Caitlin and Sara Ch. 05

For a moment it was like my mother was hearing such compliments for the very first time. She smiled and looked at me.

"I guess I just never hear those sorts of things anymore."

"Well, you'll just have to trust me on this. I haven't seen too many women who could hold a candle to you, Mom. You're definitely still a major league hottie."

I hadn't seen my mother blush in a long while and I found it very endearing. Maybe we're at the point in our relationship where I should try and treat her more like a woman and a little less like a parent.

We stared at each other and smiled and the feeling that came over me when I first walked in the house was now gone and everything seemed very different. It wasn't where it used to be, but I was starting to have hope.

"Cat, can we please talk about that other thing . . . the thing we discussed last night when you came in?"

My first reaction was to release my mother's hand as I felt my body tense up, but I knew that was the real issue we needed to discuss.

"Just so I'm absolutely clear here, do you mean the part about you watching Sara and I having sex?"

Hearing the question spoken aloud caused my mother to turn red with embarrassment. She just nodded her head once.

I bit down lightly on my bottom lip and wondered how things were progressing next door between Mr. and the soon-to-be, former Mrs. Martin. Under normal circumstances I'd be very tempted to drop in on Sara before I went to bed and check it out for myself, but I seemed to have my hands full right here. I guess I'd have to wait until our morning run.

"I'm glad you gave me some time to consider the request. I think our discussion will be much different now, than if I had responded last night."

My mother gave me a closed-mouth smile and nodded. I didn't know where I'd take this discussion, but I thought I'd feel her out a little bit, so I could better understand the request.

"Are you alright taking about this now with me, Mom?"

She quietly responded the same way and I wondered whether she would be able to say anything about it at all.

"Okay then, let me ask you some questions first. Describe for me your reaction when you saw Sara and me . . . making love in the kitchen."

My mother's lips straightened, as she seemed to be searching for the proper response, while also trying to avoid further embarrassment.

"In a strange sort of way, I think I knew you two were involved, so I wasn't totally surprised."

"Whoa, there; excuse me for interrupting, Mom, I'll try to keep that to a minimum, but you really have to elaborate on that for me. You KNEW we were involved?"

She smiled broadly at me. "Well, let's say that I was reasonably sure you were, yes."

I could feel my brow furrow. "Mom, how was that . . . exactly?"

Her smile broadened. "Because you're my baby and I've seen you around enough people to know how you typically react. Around Sara you were anything but typical, in fact – you were totally different. I didn't know it then, but now . . . now that I know you're gay . . . I can plainly see it for what it was . . . and for what it is. You two are in love! It was so obvious by the way you looked at each other that a blind person would have seen it. Believe me Cat, most people who have been in love can recognize that look when they see it."

I wished Sara was here now to hear what my mother just said. I knew I would never do it justice tomorrow.

"Thanks Mom."

She smiled. "Anyway, when I saw you two together in the kitchen I wasn't totally surprised. And my immediate response was to turn away and retreat to my bedroom, because I knew I was watching something that was certainly not intended for MY eyes."

"But then . . . it was . . . it was strange. Normally, the thought or mention of women together like that did nothing to arouse me. I don't mean it repulsed me, I know some women who respond that way to lesbians, but it just never had any effect on me whatsoever."

"And this time?"

She smiled again, sensing I was trying to help her along.

"This time I was so turned on I . . ."

Parents! What is there about taking on that role that immediately causes someone to forget what it was like to be an individual that got them into that mess in the first place?

"So turned on that you started to get wet?" I volunteered.

At first my mother didn't know how to respond to my candor. We were officially into uncharted territory now and she definitely didn't have a roadmap.

She swallowed hard and nodded.

"Please continue," I said.

"I couldn't turn away, even though I knew it was wrong to keep watching you. I haven't had a date in so long and I was getting so turned on watching Sara . . ."

This was going to be far worse than I first thought. I waited another minute and then jumped to her aid one more time.

"Watching Sara lick my pussy?"

Again she swallowed hard and nodded, but this time she was getting redder by the minute.

"Okay Mom, so you walked up to the kitchen doorway and you saw Sara on her knees licking me and you got so turned on that you started to get wet. Does that about sum it up?"

She swallowed hard as she seemed to consider my question for an instant.

"I wasn't just turned on Cat, I was more turned on than I've ever been in my entire life."

"How long did you watch us?" I asked, but it was mostly out of curiosity.

"I have no idea, ten – maybe twenty minutes."

I nodded. I was suddenly getting into the role and thought Sara would indeed be proud of my direct examination of my mother, the self-professed voyeur.

"Were you turned on by watching two women make love or were you turned on watching me and fantasizing about me?"

Her brow furrowed, as she looked over at me and I could tell she did not understand the question. In retrospect, I wasn't sure I understood it either.

"Could you repeat the question?"

I considered a better way to phrase it.

"Mom, when you were watching us, what was it that really turned you on so much? Was it watching two women together, and would two strangers have had the same effect on you? Or was it the fact that one of the women was your daughter?"

I could tell by the look in her eyes that this time she clearly understood the question.

"Caitlin, are you asking me if I might actually want to have sex with my own daughter?"

My mother's tone changed and she was becoming annoyingly indignant. By the use of my name I knew that the role of the parent was about to rear its ugly head and I was going to have to handle this very carefully.

"Cat, don't forget who you're talking to, I'm STILL you mother." She reeled of those words with icy precision.

I think those words are encoded into the DNA of every parent, and I had been expecting to hear them at some point during our discussion. I smiled at her, as she sat there with an unwavering straight-lipped expression. I had a feeling she was enjoying her new-found strength.

"Mother, I suggest that you not play the parental trump card with me right now. I think you abandoned that role when you told me that you wanted to watch me and Sara make love. You can't have it both ways, jumping back and forth as the mood suits you."

Suddenly, there was barely any trace of the fire that was in her eyes just moments ago.

"Now, please answer the question. Was it the idea of having sex with me that turned you on, or was it just watching two women making love that did the trick?"

My mother knew she didn't have a leg to stand on. If she clung to the protection provided by the parental role, she knew the conversation was over. If she abandoned it, she knew she might never get it back. I didn't envy her position right now, but I wasn't the one who put her there. Deep down, I think she knew it.

She was quiet and for a minute or two and I realized I could actually hear my heart beating inside my chest. I was looking at her and patiently waiting for some sort of response. I thought I knew exactly what issues she was grappling with and I didn't envy her situation at all. She remained perfectly quiet and absolutely still, with her hands folded on the table. She was staring down at them, brandishing a rather serious expression. Then I heard her take a deep breath and exhale, and I had the feeling that she probably arrived at some sort of resolution. I thought I knew what it would be.

"I'm sorry Cat . . . you're absolutely right." She said quietly, as she slowly looked up and made eye contact with me.

In a way the tone of her voice had a ‘defeated' quality to it and I felt badly for her. It wasn't my goal to undermine her role as a parent, but she was single-handedly changing everything between us and that would have a price.

"Thanks for that, Mom."

She managed a smile, but I could tell it was forced. I almost hated to do it, but I desperately had to ask her the same question again, since I thought the response was critical to my understanding her initial request.

"Mom, I'm sorry to keep asking this, but I really need to know the answer. When you were watching us, what was it that really turned you on? Was it watching two women together or was it the fact that one of the women was your daughter? Did you get turned on watching me?"

She bit down on her bottom lip and a look of panic was evident in her eyes.

"I don't know . . . I . . . I haven't analyzed it fully. I think that I may be afraid to."

I thought about her response. I was really dancing on the head of a pin here and I knew it. If my mother confessed to harboring sexual feelings about me, I wasn't sure how I would handle such a disclosure. I had never looked at my mother like that before and I wasn't sure if I could. The idea certainly didn't gross me out at all, but I was definitely a little weirded out.

"Okay Mom, that's fair enough. I just have one more question and I'm sorry to tell you that this will be the toughest one yet."

The poor girl swallowed hard and nodded. I knew it was tough on my mother since my father died, but I was just beginning to get a sense that I had no real clue how hard it had really been on her. Maybe this could all work out to be a good thing for her and if it does, I guess it'll make me happy too.

"After you watched us and then went back to your bedroom . . . what were you thinking about when you masturbated?"

This time my mother wasn't outraged, only embarrassed. In fact, I think I was even getting a bit red myself asking that question. But there was no turning back now. I looked at her and raised my eyebrows, indicating that the question wasn't going away and that I was still waiting for her response. I was only hoping that she wouldn't try to convince me that she doesn't masturbate. Sometimes parents can be such children.

She looked back down at her hands folded on the table and then she finally bared her soul to me.

"I kept replaying the same image in my mind of you and Sara . . . of Sara playing with your pussy . . . licking you and pinching your nipples. I was getting so incredibly wet and I began to play with myself and I . . . I just, God, it's turning me on all over again just thinking about it. I'm sorry Cat, I can't possibly imagine what you must now think of me."

I waited a moment to allow the tension to diffuse.

"Mom," I said in a near whisper.

She looked up at me. Her eyes were teary and she had an exhausted expression on her face. I guess I cannot imagine how difficult all this had been for her, but I was starting to get a pretty good idea.

"I think you're a human being. You responded in a normal, healthy way to an extremely arousing scene that was unfolding before your very eyes and there's nothing wrong with that. I'm certain Sara or I would have reacted in exactly the same way."

She smiled at me, but this time it didn't seem to be forced. "I really appreciate you saying that Cat, but I still feel so ashamed. I should not have been watching you and I certainly should not have asked you if I could watch you a second time. That was wrong and I apologize."

I returned her smile and for the first time since she sat down at the table I thought we were actually making some real progress.

"Your apology is appreciated, though unnecessary. But I think what has happened so far will invariably force our relationship to change – but that doesn't have to be a bad thing."

My mother sat there and quietly nodded at that observation. I think she already knew our relationship would change, she was just not sure how that would occur and for the moment I wasn't exactly sure either.

"I'll always be your daughter and you'll always be my Mom. But from now on I think we need to move towards a more adult relationship, and I think that will work well for both of us. I'll still always respect you as my mom and look to you for advice, but I think now we're probably gonna be more like friends or roommates, and that has distinct advantages for each of us."

I waited to see whether she might object to that comment, but so far so good.

"Now you're aware of my situation with Sara, so it should come as no surprise to you to learn that I'll be spending a lot of time with her, including sleeping with her at her house. That's not to say that I'll be neglecting my chores here or my schoolwork, since I can't see Sara as a life partner with someone who is unable to stimulate her cerebrally. But I don't want to worry about making lame excuses to you or potential repercussions – either for me or for her - when she comes over here.

She seemed to consider what I said for a moment and then nodded.

"Good. And the same situation would exist for you too, Mom. If you wanted to spend time here with Kevin Baldwin or maybe even some really hot and sexy female friend . . ."

I smiled at my mother and she immediately looked down at her hands and started to turn red once again.

"Now Cat, I didn't say that I was becoming a lesbian too – did I?

I laughed at the innocence of her question. "No Mom, you didn't, and I didn't suggest otherwise. But you're still a very young woman and I want you to know that if and when you require privacy to be with whomever you decide to bring home, isn't it nice to know that you'll be able to do it without feeling awkward or embarrassed?"

We finished our discussion on a really high note. I assured her that Sara and I would arrange something that I thought would help her learn more about herself and she seemed more than satisfied with that plan. Thank you God, I needed all the help on this one I could get.

The dreaded electronic beeping started at 4:30. I struggled to open my eyes and find my jogging attire without turning on a light. I was up late doing homework and preparing for a Calc test and I barely managed two hours of sleep before hearing that cursed sound. Whatever cobwebs were still in my head now would have to be cleared out in the next seven miles, otherwise they would probably be there for the day.

I began my stretches on my front lawn and immediately felt the effects of missing a good night's sleep. I was a little surprised that Sara didn't come out to join me, and I was very depressed to see Greg's rental car still parked in her driveway.

When I finally finished my sit-ups, I started down the street at a pace that was little faster than usual. After running alone for all these years, I suddenly realized I absolutely hated it.

As I fell into a steady, even stride I started to consider the total irony of my situation. Here I was, an eighteen year old high school girl and I was jealous because Sara's husband stayed at her house last night.

Then my imagination started to go berserk and images of Sara and Greg making love in the same bed that we were in yesterday began to fill my mind. Just when I thought I might have to stop and throw up, I heard the familiar sound of footsteps meeting the pavement directly behind me as Sara pulled up beside me.

"Jesus Cat, would you please slow down. I've been running my ass off to catch up with you for half a mile now."

I did better than that, I stopped nearly dead in my tracks. Naturally Sara kept running past me and then turned around and walked briskly back to where I was standing. I don't know what came over me, but I just wanted to look at her and hug her and tell her how much I had missed her.

"Are you alright, baby?" She said, as she stood directly in front of me, placing her hands on my shoulders.

I was unaware of how hard I was breathing, so I couldn't do more than just nod in response to her question.

"What's up with the blazing speed? You had to be on a pace to run a four minute mile. I was running as fast as I could and I was barely able to catch you."

My breathing slowed a bit and I looked into her eyes. "God, I love you so much."

She smiled at me and started to knead my shoulders with her hands. "And I love you too, baby."

So about a thousand yards from our house, Sara and I stood in the middle of our street, softly kissing each other under the glow of a streetlight. When we separated she had a funny look in her eye.

"I hope you know he's sleeping in the extra bedroom."

I feigned complete ignorance to her unsolicited comment. "I'm sorry, what are we talking about?"

Sara laughed and kissed me again. The she pulled back and started running slowly in our usual direction. Of course, I followed her.

"Oh, nothing – I guess. For just a moment I thought that perhaps my lover would feel better knowing that there was no intimacy between me and my husband after she left yesterday."

I ran alongside her for a minute or two and then turned to look at her, and she knowingly responded to my gaze.

"Thanks for that."

She smiled and we continued on without saying anything else for about another mile or two, but those damn tears kept rolling down my cheeks. I just didn't know what there was about this woman that made me so happy that I always felt the need to cry tears of joy when I was with her.

When we hit the three and a half mile point and turned around, I finally felt I could talk once again without getting overly emotional.

"So how did it go last night?"

I'm sure she was expecting the question and she continued looking straight ahead as she responded.

"Well, lets see, I'll give you the bullet points and you can just ask me to elaborate on whatever else you might want to know."

She glanced over at me and I nodded.

"Okay, first, despite what I told him, he still believes you're really only about fifteen years old."

She looked back over at me and smiled that sensual smile that always gives me goose bumps. I couldn't help but return the smile.

"Of course, he has no idea that's one of the things I find so incredibly sexy about you." We exchanged smiles once again.

"Anyway, I let him think what he wants, and after acting like I was a child molester and even implying that he might report me to the Georgia Bar Association, he finally said that he didn't really care how old you were anyway."

She stopped for a moment, as she appeared to organize her thoughts. I was getting a pretty good idea what he must have put her through.

"Ironically, I think he's fine with the lesbian thing: I suspect because it's a whole lot easier on his ego to lose me to another woman than if he thought I was leaving him for another guy. Guys . . . go figure! Anyway, he's already worked it out so that he can remain in the Atlanta office now, instead or relocating here to Houston, and I told him that you and I thought that was a really great idea."

That last comment caused me to look over at her. "You and I, huh . . . whatever did he say in response to that?"

Sara turned her head and chuckled. "His exact words were ‘Frankly Sara, I don't give a damn.'"

I laughed. "You're joking? He was quoting Margaret Mitchell to you during your discussion? Is that just an Atlanta thing or is he really a connoisseur of the classics?"