Really Like: A Promise Broken by FiveInch033,FiveInch033

What It’s Really Like: A Promise Broken

Nancy put her head into her hands and cried. She was sitting on the edge of her bed sobbing and feeling terribly guilty. An hour earlier her son Dave left her bedroom. Ten minutes earlier she heard him pull his car out of the driveway. He was headed to tech school. He had his own room but he rarely slept there. Last night was the third night Nancy and Dave had sex. Sex she initiated. Sex he was reluctant to engage in.

Her long blond hair was disheveled. She was wearing pink pajamas. Being a forty year old athletic petite blond she could have dated. Guys and lesbians would often eyeball her petite legs and her athletic behind. She was always surprised when someone would glance at her small B-cup breasts. She received many offers to date but she never once considered it. She was already in a platonic relationship. Denial is often a powerful thing.

She asks herself, “What are you doing?”

She sobbed.

“I’m his mother. You know what this feels like. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this to him.”

She looked out her bedroom window. As if her backyard held an answer.

“If Brett wouldn’t have had an affair and left us. This would have never happened.”

She sobbed for the marriage that ended when Dave was eleven. This was the reason she allowed her son to spend the nights with her. This sleeping arrangement was purely platonic up until the night of his eighteenth birthday. This was three days ago. At the beginning this brought both of them comfort after the divorce. She knew it brought her more comfort than Dave. Often times when he tried to sleep in his own room she would ask him to sleep with her. He always listened to his mother and honored her request.

“You knew where this was going? But no you didn’t stop it. You didn’t want to stop it. Did you?”

She sobbed.

Nancy grabbed tissues from her nightstand.

She said, “It’s different for boys.”

She cried.

She blew her nose and stood up. She stepped to her dresser and looked at herself. She grabbed a tissue from a box on her dresser. She wiped the tears from her eyes.

She tried to lie to herself, “It’s different with Dave and I.”

She became angry at herself.

She spoke to herself, “Isn’t this what Mom told you? That it was different when a Mom and a Daughter had sex?”

In vivid detail she remembered her eighteenth birthday. Her Mom prepared her a romantic dinner for two. She could easily recall on how awkward this was.

Nancy cried.

Out loud and angry at herself she looked in the mirror and screamed at herself. “Remember what she said?”

Nancy sobbed and grabbed more tissues.

Nancy talking to herself said, “Mom said I should be honored with the birthday gift she was giving me. I should look forward to knowing how sex was. Remember what else she said? She said the reason no one wanted to date me was because I lacked confidence and I was awkward. She said this would change after she taught me how things worked. Remember how it felt to have your own mother give you a candlelight dinner? To have her give you head? How confused you were? Who wants to loose their virginity to their mother.”

Sobbing she looked in the mirror, “It took a year and two women to figure out you were straight.”

This made her angry.

Nancy yelled at herself, “Remember what it was like for those two years before you moved? What it was like to have your mom shower with you? To enter your room? To be nineteen and feel powerless? How guilty you felt for never stopping it? To hate your Mom’s own smell? To have your Mom touch you? It’s the reason you slept around. It’s the reason you married Brett.”

She sobbed.

“What does Brett do? Cheats on me and gets a divorce.”

She cried for a marriage that failed.

“You promised yourself you’d never touch Davy.”

She felt so guilty.

“Not only are you touching him you are making love to him.”

Nancy knew if she hadn’t reached over and grabbed his cock none of this would have happened. She knew she wanted to grab it. She wanted to find out how big it was. To stroke it. To finally see it squirt all over. She knew Dave would have never reached over and touched her if she hadn’t grabbed his hand and placed it on her small breasts. She knew he was reluctant; he became limp when she mounted him. It took a great deal of effort and a lot of reassurance for him to get it up again. He was the one who mentioned pregnancy. Her son was unaware of a sex ad she posted six months earlier looking for a friend with benefits. Two months prior to this ad she went on the pill. She met with a half dozen men between the ages of nineteen and twenty-four but never had sex with them. It never felt right.

She pleaded with herself, “You have to stop it.”

She cried for a while.

She looked at herself and felt terribly guilty.

She stepped into her bathroom. She opened a drawer. She took out her birth control pills and took one.

She looked at herself in the mirror.

She cut off her tears.

She was honest with herself and said. “You like it.”

She stared at herself.

Being honest with herself said, “You don’t know how to stop it.”

This is when she grabbed the bathroom sink and stared into it. She was looking for an answer. An answer she never found at the bottom of the sink.

She stood up and prepared herself for work.