Nature or Nurture?byYKN4949©
"Where have you been?" I asked, tears welling in my eyes again. I couldn't believe I had been stupid enough to trust the woman who'd abandoned me.
"Oh honey," she said stepping towards me. I backed up into my house, "I am sorry. Are we going to miss the start of your game?"
"We already missed half the game. By the time we get there is will be almost over," I said and then she was standing in my house, "where were you? Your roommate said you left right after we talked." I walked into the living room and she followed. I didn't really want her in my house, but I didn't know how to get rid of her. Plus I wanted answers. I sat down on the couch and was little unnerved that she sat down next to me.
"No, I know," she explained, "You're right. I was on my way here right away. And this guy that I have been talking to, well this guy I slept with last week, he finally called me back. And he wanted to get a quick drink so I met up with him. And I just had a couple of drinks and then I came over."
"How many drinks did you have? You shouldn't have driven over here," I said. She looked glassy eyed and slow. I knew she was hammered and it made me angry.
"Well it depends on what you mean by drink," she giggled, "I think I had a couple of martini's at the bar, but I got a drink of something else in the men's room." I didn't understand what that meant. What the hell did she drink in the men's room?
"What?" I asked. She leaned forward and blew into my face. It smelled like cheap alcohol and cigarettes.
"Does my breath smell like spunk Ella? I drank a big load of Carl's cum in the bathroom right before I left," she said and then she started to giggle again. I was repulsed. What the hell had I done, inviting this animal to drive me to a game? I thought about how disappointed my mother would be, to know I was talking to a person like this. And I realize I had half of this woman's genes and I shuddered.
"I am going to call you a cab," I said. "You need to leave."
"No, let's go to this game!" she said, "I want to meet David. Does he have a big cock like Carl?" She asked and I felt my face get hot. I had never seen David naked and had no intention of talking about it with Tiffany anyway.
"It's too late for the game and you can't drive," I said. I walked over to the kitchen and found the phonebook. I flipped through the pages until I found some cab companies. I walked back into the living room to grab my cell phone.
When I walked in I heard Tiffany snoring loudly on the couch. I rolled my eyes and walked over to her. I put my hand on her shoulder and shook her. She made a weird gurgling sound but didn't move. I shook her again and she just smacked her lips. I felt like crying, but I realized that I couldn't move her. And I couldn't ask a cab driver to take her to her home. I called her roommate, but she was apparently out of the apartment because the phone just rang and rang.
Finally, I gave up. I rolled Tiffany onto her side so that if she vomited she wouldn't choke on it and die (I actually considered not rolling her over, but I couldn't bring myself to risk it) and the put a blanket over her shoulders. I went into the kitchen and grabbed some aspirin and a glass of water and set it on the coffee table in case she woke up.
I didn't want to be around her, so I went to my room. I changed into my pajamas (a large t-shirt and a pair of panties) and tried to relax. I watched television for a while and tried not to think about the drunk on the couch. I checked a website for a local newspaper and saw when the game was over. My school lost, but David had 32 yards on 8 carries. I really wished I'd been there to see it. Finally, I was too tired to worry anymore. I set an alarm for 6:00 a.m. so I could get Tiffany out of the house before my mom got home. Then I fell asleep.
* * * * *
A noise at my bedroom door woke me up with a start. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and looked at my alarm clock. It was 3:30 in the morning. Then I remembered Tiffany, she was still in my house. I looked up and saw her standing in my doorway, looking disheveled. I sat up and turned the light on beside my bed and squinted in the light.
"Ella?" she said, "When did I get here?" Her voice was a croaking little sound and she put her hand on her head like it was trying to split in half.
"You drove here," I said haughtily. "Remember you were supposed to take me to my game?"
"I remember I was on the way here and that awful Carl called and asked me out. And I was so angry at him for blowing me off last week that I decided to go down to his bar and tell him off. The next thing I know I woke up on the couch downstairs," she said.
"You got drunk, forgot about me for a few hours, then came over here and said some terrible things and fell asleep," I said. I saw her face get red and her shoulders dropped. She looked crushed. Good.
"Oh god, I must've had a drink for courage and then not stopped. Why am I such an idiot?" she asked and then walked over and sat on the edge of my bed.
"You just are," I said. I felt tears in my eyes but didn't dare let them drop. She wasn't allowed to know that she could hurt me.
"What kind of terrible things did I say?" she asked, "Do I want to know?"
"I don't care if you want to know!" I screamed, "You told me you gave Carl a blowjob in the men's room and then your breathed in my face so I could smell his cum. You are disgusting!" I didn't want her on my bed or in my house or a part of my life. I felt a deep rage building inside of me.
"No!" she said, "Oh God. I am a fucking pig. What the fuck is wrong with me? I promise myself I wouldn't do these things anymore."
"I don't care," I said and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
"Ella let me give you some advice," she said and I snorted. Yeah, right. She was the kind of person to give me advice. "Don't ever drink. All of my problems are from my inability to control myself when I drink. And as much as you may hate it, and as much as I may hate that I passed it to you, those are your genes. Fuck!" she screamed and pounded her knees with her fists. I saw that she was crying now and I felt strange. It didn't sound like she'd consented to do anything with Carl; in fact it sounded like she had been taken advantage of. Despite myself, I felt sympathy for her.
"Uh," I started, "Did you take that aspirin I left?"
"Yes, thank you. You are a sweet girl," she said, "I am so sorry that I made you miss your game."
"I saw on the internet that David did well at his game. I wish I could've been there for him," I said. She looked over at me with big red eyes. And I felt angry that she looked beautiful that way. I wanted her to be ugly.
"Well good for him. You should've been there. Make sure he knows that it was all my fault," she said. She seemed like a different person when she was sober.
"Did you drink when you and my dad were together?" I asked.
"Yes," she said, "That's why I left. He was always trying to get me to clean up, especially once we got pregnant. And I didn't drink when I was pregnant. But I knew that I would start again. I didn't want you around that. Then, when I'd get drunk I'd blame your father for 'making' me leave and call him and yell at him. He didn't deserve that; I'd decided to go. He just wanted me to clean up. I think he did a good job of protecting you from me."
"Why do you drink so much?" I asked. I knew my father. He had been such a wonderful guy. I had always wondered why he'd wanted to be with some woman who would abandon us. I wondered if maybe Tiffany was just a good sober person and a terrible drunk. Maybe, if she stopped drinking, she could be a good person. Maybe that was what my father had seen in her. I had to believe that, I had to believe that I had the genes to be a good person, and maybe all I'd have to do was stay sober. I could handle that.
"I don't know. A lot of reasons I guess," she said, "None of them particularly good. I guess I just feel so ashamed about the things I do when I am drunk that I drink to forget them. And while I am drunk I do it again. Then a whole new wave of things to be ashamed of occur. So I have to drink to forget again. A cycle like that."
"You need to forgive yourself, so you can stop doing these things," I told her. It sounded corny, but I think it was true.
"Yeah well, I have done too much wrong to start forgiving myself now," she said and her head drooped again.
"I forgive you for being late tonight," I said and even I was shocked when I said it, "I don't forgive you for leaving me yet. But tonight was a little mistake. And everyone makes mistakes. But I can't give you anymore second chances Tiffany. I just, I don't have it in me to do it again. And if you ever want me to forgive you for your big mistakes, then I will need you to never make me disappointed in you again." I was trying to think of where that speech came from. It didn't sound like me, it sounded like...
"Your mother is a remarkable woman," Tiffany said, looking at me with her mouth agape, "She raised you far better than I would have. Thank you," she said. And then she opened her arms. I didn't really know what to do. But she looked so contrite. I moved forward and put my arms around her. I felt her large breasts pressed against mine. I smelled her stale perfume and the smell of alcohol. But I felt warmth too. Honest warmth. She held me for a long time before breaking the hug. Then we sat on the bed, both sitting cross-legged, looking at one another. She had this glowing smile on her face. And for a long time we just sat in silence, basking in the warmth of our new understanding.
"So tell me about this David character, is he handsome?" she asked coyly and gave me a little smile. I blushed. To be honest, David was only average in looks, but he was sweet.
"He isn't bad..." I said and she laughed.
"How long have you all been dating?" she asked.
"Three months," I said, "It's getting pretty serious." It was the longest relationship I'd ever had.
"Serious eh?" she asked, "have you two...you know... done the deed?" she asked and then gave me a playful punch on the shoulder. I know I blushed. But I was still feeling so good about everything; I decided to answer her honestly.
"No. We've never gotten passed second base," I said, thinking about David's awkward fumblings with my bra, "But he wants to do more."
"Do you want to do more?" she asked seriously. I looked into her eyes and wondered if boy trouble wasn't something that maybe she was more qualified to speak about than my mother.
"I don't know. I mean I know his ex-girlfriend gave him a blowjob before. And I don't want to lose him but I am not sure that it is something I want to do. I mean... what is it like?" I asked and I felt ashamed even to ask it. But Tiffany understood.
"Giving a blowjob?" she asked, "It isn't too bad. I mean boys really love it so there's that. But it is just a matter of getting the thing into your throat without gagging too much." She shrugged her shoulders like it wasn't a big deal.
"What about the... stuff?" I asked and then wrinkled my nose. I'd Googled oral sex before, and watched video clips. I'd seen the weird looking white stuff come out of the man's privates and into the woman's mouth. It seemed kind of gross?
"Sperm isn't too bad," she admitted, "I mean I wouldn't want to drink it regularly, but it is just hot and salty and sticky. And it can depend on what the guy eats. I doesn't taste as good as a woman's juices." My eyes shot wide open. What was this?
"You've tasted a girl?" I asked.
"Haven't you ever tasted your fingers after you've masturbated?" she asked in an almost shocked voice. My head was swimming now. This was not the conversation I'd expected to have. I gulped deeply.
"I've never... I don't do that?" I explained.
"Taste your fingers?" Tiffany said.
"No. I mean yes, but I don't do any of that. I don't masturbate," I said and the last word was barely above a whisper. Of course, I knew was masturbation was, but I didn't think it was the sort of thing that a lady did.
"Wow!" Tiffany said, "I can't believe it. So your 18 and you've never had sex and you've never masturbated. You've never had an orgasm?"
"No," I said quietly and shook my head. I felt a little silly. Like I was doing something wrong or something. Was it weird that I didn't play with myself?
"Don't look like that!" she said smiling, "It's not a big deal. And I can help you." And suddenly she was standing on my bed in front of me. Then she reached down at the hem of her dress and in one smooth motion she pulled her tight black dress up over her head and threw it on the floor. She was wearing a tight, lacy black bra and a pair of matching panties. Her stomach looked flat and sexy and her massive breasts looked incredible squeezed into her bra. Her tiny butt looked cute packed into the tight panties. I couldn't believe how beautiful this woman was. I might not have liked her personality, but I hoped that I had some of the raw magnetic power I felt flowing out of her body.
"What are you doing?" I asked suddenly. This was very weird.
"I am doing what a mother is supposed to do," she said, "I am going to teach you something." With that she slipped her thumbs into her panties and quickly shimmied the panties off as well. I know my eyes bulged out of my head and I immediately glanced between her legs. She was waxed completely bare and the skin above her pussy looked smooth. She quickly sat down on the bed across from me and spread her legs wide, opening her vaginal lips. Her vagina had thick pink lips and it looked very small. It was beautiful, like a delicate flower. Her clit was long and appeared to be quite hard and the skin around her pussy glistened like it was wet. I wondered if just talking to me about sex had turned her on.
"You... have a beautiful body," I said and she smiled. I didn't know what else to say.
"Want to see my tits?" she asked in a straight-forward manner, "I paid enough for them, I might as well show them off." She didn't wait for me to respond. She just reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. She threw it on the floor with her dress and panties. Then my birth mother was sitting in front of me, naked. Her breasts were somehow bigger out of the bra. She had small brownish nipples that pointed upwards and they looked round and soft. They hung perkily from her body; she'd had a very good plastic surgeon.
"What are you going to do?" I asked. I was so confused and embarrassed that I felt almost paralyzed. I couldn't move.
"I am going to show you how to masturbate," she said matter-of-factly. Then she brought her hand forward and rested it gently on the inside of her thigh. I watched all of her movements, fascinated and terrified at the same time.
"You don't need anything else like a toy or anything?" I asked and she shook her head.
"You can use toys, but all you need is your hand," she explained, "now I will take my middle and index finger and give them a little lick to get them wet. You can use the juice from your pussy if you want, but I usually just use spit. When you finger are wet, you just place your fingers on your clit," as she said this she put her fingers there, between her legs. She took in a sharp breath and when she spoke again her voice was softer and higher, "And you just sort of swirl them around on your clit. Some people like to stroke their clit like it's a little cock, but I think just rubbing the little clit around feel nicest."
Then she was quiet for a few moments. I watched her fingers deftly run over her clit, swirling around on her clitoris. Her eyes were closed and she was moaning slightly. After a few moments her other hand shot up and started to knead her own breast. She played careful attention to her nipples, pinching them and rolling them. The whole time she kept rubbing her clit. I saw her hand shoot up to her mouth briefly and she licked her fingers again, tasting her pussy and getting her fingers wetter. Then her fingers were on her clit again.
I was acutely aware of the scent that was blanketing the room. Whereas my room usually smelled like fresh laundry and my shampoo, it now smelled of woman. A thick, humid smell of arousal. And it was a contagious smell. I could my own pussy getting wet between my legs and the heady atmosphere in my room was threatening to take me away. And I wanted to know what that pleasure was, what feelings my biological mother was experiencing that I'd never known.
"If you'd like," Tiffany said around a sigh, "Ohh God! You can dip your fingers into your pussy a little like this." She said and then she plunged her middle finger deep into her body. She let out a croaking sound and then smiled, "Fuck yes! But don't stop playing with your clit."
Tiffany's middle finger moved in and out of her pussy. I could see the juices glistening on her finger. At the same time her thumb kept circling her clit, bouncing off of it and giving her pleasure. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lip. Her other hand clutched her breast hard, but not longer moved. Finally, her entire body seemed to shake and she let out a loud scream. All at once, the tension broke and she made a small "eek" sound and her finger moved away from her pussy. She was panting on the bed panting and slipped her index finger into her mouth, and then her middle finger, tasting her juices. I was so aroused by the sight, but disgusted by arousal, that I didn't know what to do.
"Want to try?" Tiffany said and I just stared at her dumbly. She laughed, sitting back up. She threw her hair over her shoulder, she looked gorgeous, "Come on, it won't hurt. In fact, it is the opposite of hurting." I wasn't so much in control of my body as my body was in control of me. I was horny and the smell in the room so powerful. I wanted to feel what I had witnessed.
I slipped the big t-shirt up over my head quickly and tossed it onto the floor. I wasn't wearing a bra under my shirt and my 34-C breasts looked perky and my nipples hard as they bounced out of my shirt. I saw my biological mother's eyes on me. She was staring at my caramel-colored breasts and chocolate-colored nipples and Her eyes were sparkling.
"You have a lovely body," she said, "If I'd looked like you I wouldn't have had to get work done." The compliment made my heart beat faster. I knew the last thing I had to do was take off my panties, but that seemed so... final. I was afraid, but when I looked over at Tiffany she was smiling and nodding, and I wanted it. I lifted my butt off the bed and pulled my panties down. Just like my biological mother, spread my legs.
"What a cute little pussy!" she said and I blushed and looked down. My pussy had a little landing strip of dark hair above my small, hard clit. My pussy lips were a reddish brown color on the outside with a deep pink inside where it opened. Despite the color differences, my pussy was shaped a lot like my biological mother's it was sort of strange to see. How many people know that?
I took my fingers and rubbed them into my mouth, just like Tiffany had taught me. Then, I moved my fingers against my clit. The feeling was electric and I moaned loudly. Tiffany gave me a little giggle as she watched, "Oh god!" I said.
"That's good honey," she said lovingly, "Now just circle those finger around on your clit, give it some love." She said and I did as I was told. I could feel the tension building inside of me. My fingers slid over my clit. Almost involuntarily, my fingers popped out of my mouth. The tasty was salty and slick and I took my wet fingers back out of my mouth and put them on my clit.
"Jesus that is nice!" I said, my face flushed, smiling. I moved my other hand to my nipple, pinching it. The feeling was indescribable. I'd never noticed my nipples being sensitive before, but now, in the middle of this play, they felt hot to the touch, like they were connected to live wires. I pinched them hard.