Kathryn M. Burke
“Hello, Jenny.”
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?… Mom, are you there?”
“Yes.”
“Something wrong?… Mom, will you say what you have to say?”
“I think I want to throttle you.”
“What? What for? What did I do?”
“Because of what you said, I let your Daddy…”
“What?”
“I let him go into my bottom.”
“Oh. I guess you didn’t like it?”
“I hated it! It hurt like hell.”
“I told you it would. It’s always like that the first time.”
“It hurt more than giving birth to you!”
“Oh, come on, Mom, it couldn’t have hurt that much.”
“Well, it was pretty bad.”
“You used lube?”
“Of course. Not cold cream, though. I couldn’t face the thought of having that stuff–back there. We used some hand lotion.”
“That should have worked.”
“I don’t think anything would have worked.”
“Mom, the thing is, your thing back there–I guess it’s called your sphincter–has to get loosened up. You know, it’s not designed to have stuff go into it, only stuff coming out of it.”
“You don’t need to remind me.”
“So it takes a couple of tries.”
“It does, does it?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t know that I’m going to give Daddy another try.”
“Oh, Mom, don’t be so closed-minded. Just try it once or twice more.”
“Maybe.”
“How did he do it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what position did you get into?”
“I decided to do it doggie-style.”
“I thought you hated that position.”
“Well, it does make me feel sort of like an animal–you know, a cat in heat, or something. But your daddy insisted.”
“Why?”
“He says he wanted to see his thing going in and out of me.”
“Oh, yeah. Jeremy likes that too. But I think it might have been better if you’d done it flat on your stomach.”
“Yes, possibly.”
“But I gather Daddy liked it.”
“God, yes. This was the first time he’d come twice in I don’t know how long.”
“Oh, you did it the regular way first?”
“Naturally.”
“What did it feel like, having his discharge in your butt?”
“It started leaking out almost immediately. It trickled down my thighs. Yuk!”
“I kind of like that feeling.”
“Oh, you do?”
“Sure. I like the feel of his come anywhere on my body.”
“Why would you feel it like that?”
“Well, Mom, Jeremy has learned to pull out and then spatter me all over with his stuff.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He likes to come on my back, on my bottom, my boobs, my stomach, just all over. Even my face.”
“Your face? Ugh.”
“I like it. It feels so warm and wet and nice.”
“Nice, eh?”
“Yeah. Sometimes it goes into my mouth.”
“Oh, please!”
“Okay, I admit it doesn’t taste so good, but it’s his stuff. It would hurt his feelings if I spit it out. Does Daddy come in your mouth?”
“He hasn’t in ages.”
“Oh, yeah. It takes him a lot of effort to come, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“But I suppose you don’t like it in your mouth?”
“No.”
“Well, there it is. Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?”
“I suppose.”
“Okay. But do give butt sex another chance or two. Maybe you’ll start liking it.”
“I very much doubt it.”
“You never know, Mom.”
*
“Mom, we need to talk.”
“What about, dear?”
“You know what. Just sit down here on the couch.”
“I don’t think you should order me around.”
“Mom, sit down!”
“Okay, okay, keep your shirt on.”
“So I’ve been talking with Daddy.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I spent a while at his office today. Why did you kick him out of the house?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Mom, I know exactly why. I just wanted to hear what you have to say.”
“He cheated on me, that’s why!”
“I know, Mom, but it was just one time.”
“Oh, so that makes it all right?”
“I’m not saying that. But he feels sorry about it.”
“Then why did he do it in the first place?”
“Well, Mom, I have to tell you…”
“What?”
“That girl he did it with–it was an intern at his office–she’s awfully cute.”
“She’s barely older than you are!”
“Mom, she’s like twenty-two or twenty-three.”
“She could be his daughter!”
“I suppose so, technically. But she isn’t his daughter. She’s just a pretty girl.”
“Oh, and men can bed down with pretty girls whenever they want, whether they’re married or not?”
“No, of course not. But you know how men are. I mean, it takes no effort to seduce them. And that’s what that girl did.”
“Your daddy can’t love me very much if he was so easily lured by a pretty face.”
“Her face isn’t the only thing about her that’s pretty.”
“I really don’t need to know that.”
“But, Mom, listen. Daddy does love you. It’s just–”
“Just what?”
“Well, I hate to say this, but you can be a bit of a pain sometimes.”
“What on earth are you saying?”
“Mom, you’re sort of a nag.”
“I am not!”
“You are. You nag me, and you nag Dad.”
“And that’s the excuse he gave for sleeping with this–this creature?”
“It’s not his excuse. It’s his explanation. That’s different. He knows he did wrong.”
“Oh, does he?”
“Sure. He told you about it, didn’t he? Almost as soon as it happened, he got all guilty and went right up to you and confessed. Didn’t he?”
“Yes, but–”
“So that means he’s sorry, doesn’t it? And what do you do? You kick him out of the house just before Christmas!”
“I will not have him cheating on me!”
“Mom, I don’t think he’ll do it again. Maybe it was just a midlife crisis or something. Anyway… I’m not sure you can get on the high horse with him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mom, do you really think Jeremy didn’t tell me what you and he were doing while I was away talking with Daddy?”
“He told you?”
“Of course he did. You think he’s going to keep quiet about taking you to bed?”
“He didn’t take me to bed!”
“Didn’t he?”
“Well, okay, he did–but it was different.”
“Different how?”
“Here’s what happened. After Daddy left–”
“Mom, you told him he had to go.”
“Okay, fine. After I told him to leave, I felt pretty lonely. I mean, I’ve lived with that man for twenty years! And even though he’d done this awful thing to me, I felt his absence. And then you two showed up. When you toddled off to have this heart-to-heart talk with Daddy, I was left alone with Jeremy. Somehow my mind got thrown back to when Daddy and I were first married–”
“Are you saying Jeremy reminded you of Daddy when he was a young man?”
“No, not exactly. Jeremy doesn’t look or act anything like your father. But still, here I was, with a man in the house, and no one else. Well, I just got all sad and sorry for myself–I admit it, I was sorry for myself–and so I just started to cry.”
“Mom, you never cry.”
“That’s not true. I do cry sometimes–I just don’t want you to see it. And the thing is, I’d gotten so used to your daddy comforting me when I cry that I just assumed that Jeremy would do the same. And he did.”
“He comforted you?”
“Certainly. There I was sitting on the couch, weeping and sobbing, and he just sat down beside me and gathered me up in his arms, and I threw my arms around him and just cried my eyes out.”
“Gee, that’s intense.”
“It was. And you know, Jeremy was pretty smart. He didn’t get all freaked out as so many men do when facing a woman’s tears. He didn’t try desperately to stop me from crying. I think he realized that this was just something I had to get out of my system. So he just stroked my head and basically told me (without actually saying anything), ‘Go ahead and finish. I’ll be here for you.'”
“Oh, how sweet.”