Everything is connected to something else, and my life now feels like the end of stories told by other people. Even I don’t know what I just said, so I better start over.
My father was much older than my mother, She was 21 and fresh out of college when she married the 35-year-old professor she’s secretly dated the entire senior year. I was born 7 months later, which perhaps explains why they were in such a hurry. I eventually had a sister.
When I was 14 I came home from school earlier than scheduled because a twisted ankle meant no tennis practice. One of the coaches gave me a ride in his car, so I arrived an hour and a half before I was expected. I thought the house was empty – Mom and Dad ought to have both been at their jobs. I was just as surprised as my father and his girlfriend when I walked in on them having sex. Dad and the young lady – a student, no less – didn’t hear me come in. I got quite an eyeful as my 50-year-old father and his 19-year-old student shouted at me and tried to find their underwear. I told Mom and they were divorced before my 15th birthday.
The next 12 months were horrible for us, but once property was retitled and court orders were complied with life settled down. I had such negative feelings towards my father that I was happy he was gone. I didn’t mind when Mom started dating, tentatively at first, but then more often. She was a victim, entitled to her new life. It was fun to watch her dress and make up for a date, meet the stranger, and babysit Kendra with popcorn and movies way past our normal bedtimes.
Kendra would go to bed no later than 10 pm, before Mom got home, but I would wait up for her. Then I got to spend a magic hour with my Mom, listening to the story of the evening while she undressed, removed her make-up, and jumped in the tub. It made me feel all grown up that she disrobed in front of me and told me stories about her date. Men sometimes did things they shouldn’t, or didn’t do things they should. Mom taught me about men and sex an hour at a time floating naked in her tub. I was enraptured by her stories of men’s touches.
And then one night, as she primped for her date, she had a few serious words for me. Tonight, it was possible, she might bring her date home with her to spend the night. It is a testament to how well she had prepared me for the adult world that I took this in my stride. Of course she would bring a man home someday, and the day was here.
When she was out I dumbed it down for my sister, and we both went to bed at 10. Mom and her man made so little noise that I slept right through their arrival and their sex. Whoever he was, he tiptoed out at 5 am and my sister and I never knew he came and went.
That didn’t happen often. More typically we would hear them come in, hear all sorts of noises while they made love, and find a strange man at the dinette table the next morning. Rarely the same man twice. And, I was slow to realize, never a man even close to Mom’s age. My mother was a cougar. I was 18, and her lovers were usually young enough that they could have been dating me.
I stopped wandering into the kitchen in my pajamas, rubbing sleep out of my eyes. These were young, hungry men, they had recharged their batteries while they slept, and they undressed me with their eyes when Mom wasn’t paying attention. Kendra and I soon began staying in our bedrooms in the morning until Mom’s cubs had left. Or we ducked in and out of the kitchen early, while Mom and her lover still slept. Or, we could hear, did not sleep, but were too busy for coffee.
One of Mom’s regular lovers was Mike Anders. I had known his younger sister for several years and crossed his path once or twice at their house. I slipped out of bed at 5:30 one morning and ducked into the dark kitchen to get cold coffee and a bagel before he and Mom got up. Mike was sitting in the dark, waiting for me. I don’t know to this day why he and I sat and whispered for a while, both of us obviously wanting not to wake Mom or Kendra. I don’t know why I let him kiss me, and touch me, and why I touched him. I went back to my room with the taste of his cum in my mouth.
In June I was a graduate, Kendra a counselor at a summer camp three counties away, and Mom still working 40 hours a week. Mike and I had the house to ourselves for hours every day. Mom had tired of him weeks before and now dated others, but Mike was as happy as could be doing the daughter. I kept it at the oral sex stage for a few days, but that couldn’t last and my cherry bit the dust mid-week the second week of June, just before Mike had to report for Army Boot Camp. Mike was gentle and restrained and he played my young body perfectly. By the third day I could orgasm with him and I felt like a whole woman.
We were both sad that our affair was so short, but the day before he left he brought a friend for a threesome and sort of handed me over. Nelson was another of my Mom’s ex-lovers, although he had only been a two-night stand months before. He kind of had a grudge against Mom for kicking him to the curb. He got even with her by introducing me to pain, pulling my hair and twisting my nipples. If he thought I’d cry he was wrong. I loved it all. The apple never falls far.
One day in August Mom came home unexpectedly and caught me in bed with one of her formers. She wanted to be angry, but she just couldn’t. She didn’t mind that her adult daughter was having sex, and she didn’t care about him at all. After he fled, she started laughing about the fact that I had come home early almost 5 years earlier and set all these things in motion. I cried a little and she hugged me and calmed me down. She and I have since had a few threesomes with one of her cubs, but it’s not a regular thing.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ilwq2l/mf_coming_home_too_early