Helping Mom part 1
My mom father divorced when I was about s*******n, now about ten years ago. Since that time she had dated some, but none of her relationships had even come close to getting at all serious. Not until this last year. There was one man who wanted to marry her, and was pushing at it a little bit. More than my mom in a way wanted. He was a nice enough guy. I had met him, and he seemed nice to me, too. But mom was just so hesitant about doing that, not sure if she wanted to be tied down, and unsure if this man was really right for her.
"I just don't know..." she said doubtfully.
"Well, what's the rush?" I said.
I had gone over to her apartment and we were sitting having coffee that morning.
"That's just it," she replied. "He's the one who seems to be in a rush."
"Just tell him that you want to think about it," I said, logically.
"That's the thing," she confessed. "I Have told him that. That's what I've been telling him for the last six months, that I don't want to rush into anything."
"And he's giving you a hard time about it?
She frowned. "He's understanding enough..." she sighed. "But he keeps bringing it up, and I keep putting him off."
"Are you afraid that you're going to lose him?" I questioned.
She sighed again, and took a sip of coffee.
"It's not that. Not really. It's just that...I have too many doubts. About him...about myself."
"What sort of doubts?" I asked.
"Oh...if he's just looking for a wife. Someone just to fill in...to do things for him."
I could see what she meant.
"And I have doubts about myself," she said.
Mom gave me a kind of chiding smirk.
"Well...it's been a long time since I've been with a man. I mean, really been with a man."
I grinned. "You mean that you and him ..."
I let the rest of the ques ton go. It was a little embarrassing asking my mother about her sex life.
"No. We haven't," she admitted, but upfront about the issue.
"Oh," I said simply, trying not to make an issue out of it one way or the other.
"And I just don't know how it would be with him. How it would be with anybody," she said. "I'm older now. I don't know how desirable I am."
"Desirable?" I echoed. "Well...he seems to think that you're desirable."
She gave me a doubting look.
"Well, he's never seen me without my clothes on," she said. "Things change." She paused. Having gone that far, she added, "And I don't know how good I am at it. I mean, it's not the kind of thing that you can practice."
It was sort of funny to see my mother being so worried about such things. I always saw my mom as being mature, decisive, and quite sure of herself. I guess you never think of your own mother as being worried about how she looks naked, or about sex. To me, it struck me as being very amusing.
I laughed. "Anything I can help with?" I teased.
She smirked again.
"I doubt it," she said, being entirely practical about the matter. She then rolled her eyes. "If you saw me without my clothes on, you would run the other way."
This time I smirked at her lack of selfesteem.
"I doubt that," I said. "I've seen you in a bathing suit," I reminded.
"That's hardly the same thing as...well, seeing someone completely bare from head-to-toe."
"I'm sure you look fine," I assured.
She responded with a doubting look. "That's easy for you to say. I'm your mother. It's different."
"It isn't that different," I said earnestly.
"Well, seeing your own mother naked probably wouldn't be too much of a turn on."
Carelessly I said, "I don't know...it might be. "I think you're attractive."
"That's with my clothes on," she insisted.
Posted by Graeme12 4 years ago Views: