In the Moment

Chapter 3 My Mistake

After the events of that day I couldn't help, but change. I analyzed every word between Marcos and Justine, suspicious that everything they said had a double meaning. I tried not to treat my daughter any differently, but suddenly I couldn't help but see her partially as competition. If there was any possibility that they would be home alone together I would find a way to keep one of them away from the house, either having them run an errand, or going so far as to allow my daughter to go on mini trips without a question asked, something I would have never done before. I became the opposite of an overprotected mother I used to be.

It even started to affect our sex life. Knowing that Justine could hear us down the hall, I just couldn't let myself go like before. Marcos never complained, but it seemed like he was starting to end each session by asking what was wrong. Instead of admitting the problem I started booking weekend excursions, even taking days off work so that we could have a couple of days away from the house. I figured that as long as we could last for another month before Justine went back to school we would be fine.

Unfortunately my plans were foiled by a sudden emergency at work. One of our biggest clients, a client I handled, landed in some trouble over a defect in their automobiles that led to the deaths of at least ten people. There was no way I could delegate the work to someone else, it was just too important. So I was stuck in the office working twelve hour days six days a week.

To compensate I had Justine start coming to work five days a week instead of just four. But it was hard enough to get her to stay the full eight hours, so inevitably she ended up back home way earlier than I did. Plus she didn't go in on the weekends, and despite my urgings she stopped going on mini-trips since her and Lucy weren't spending as much time together anymore, the one bright thing that had emerged during that time.

Marcos didn't complain about my new work schedule, he said he understood. "A little too understanding," I began to think from my new paranoid perspective. After he mentioned that he missed his family back in Italy I shamelessly offered to pay for a plane ticket to send him home for a couple of weeks. That is how insane I had become. He declined my offer because he had to work and I almost told him to just quit his crappy job and I'd support him through school.

I know I was going crazy. But at the time I thought I was justified. I mean I knew for a fact that my daughter had a crush on him, and every once in a while I caught him stealing a glance at her young figure. It killed me when she would prance around the house in her short shorts displaying the roundness of her youthful bottom. It didn't help that they were becoming even more relaxed around each other, watching television together, laughing, joking around. I would have said they were acting like brother and sister, a disturbing thought in its own right, if I didn't know of my daughter's thoughts.

Then one Thursday, only a week after I started working overtime I decided to take a break and come home a couple of hours earlier than usual, around eight o'clock. Much to my surprise I found Marcos and Justine sitting in the spa together. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I found them. They were sitting on opposite ends. Marcos was wearing the new trunks that I had bought him after the last fiasco, but Justine was only in a tiny bathing suit and they were suspiciously quiet when I found them. I almost exploded, but calmly acted like it didn't affect me, although I think Marcos realized from my curtness the rest of the night that I wasn't pleased to find them nearly naked in the hot tub together.

After that night my paranoia reached new heights. I even checked out websites looking for video surveillance equipment. Fortunately, I realized that I was starting to step over the edge, but I couldn't help shaking the feeling that something was going on.

Justine was acting totally different. When I would ask her what her plans after work were she would tell me some vague generic activity, like she was going to the mall or heading to have coffee with a friend. But when I would ask her about those events later it seemed like she always paused before answering, like she was trying to remember exactly what she had told me.

Marcos behavior wasn't noticeably different, although he seemed to again to be very accepting of the fact that I worked late everyday. He would tell me that he missed me, but he never complained. I started to become so suspicious that I started randomly calling the house in the early evening to see if I could catch either of them there when they weren't supposed to be. Of course usually no one picked up, which only fueled my imagination, the scheme backfiring in my face.

After three weeks of grueling work on my emergency case I had to fly out to New York to handle a couple of important depositions which I simply couldn't let anyone else handle. So despite my reluctance to leave the two of them alone I left on a scheduled three day business trip. The first day I must have called the house twenty times before Marcos finally answered around eleven-thirty, meaning that it was two-thirty in the morning in New York. I knew he had to work late, but I was starting to move beyond rational thoughts. I should have been more insistent when I offered to buy him a cellular phone, but he refused to allow me to buy him anything that would make it seem like I was supporting him completely, so I was stuck dialing the house number desperately in the middle of the night.

Motivated by a desire to get home as quickly as possible I pushed hard the next day and finished up my required work so I could catch the eight o'clock plane back to Los Angeles. I knew I should have called to let them know I was coming home early, but the temptation to come home unexpected was just too great.

I arrived home around midnight and quietly crept up the stairs. The lights in both bedrooms were out, but I could hear a faint squeak coming from Justine's room. My blood immediately froze in my veins. I was sure it was my worst fears realized. Just to make sure I checked my bedroom, but it was empty, so I tip toed back down the hall to just outside of Justine's room.

I could hear soft moans coming from inside. Something definitely was going on in there. My clammy hands turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open. There was some light provided by an assortment of candles spread around the room, enough for me to clearly see my nightmare taking place on top of the bed. Justine's bare body was straddling another's. Her back was turned to me so I could only see her hips slowly wind as she worked the cock underneath her in and out of her young frame.

It was too much for me, "Marcos!" I exclaimed. Justine's head snapped back to look at me with a horrified expression on her face.

"Oh, shit!" I heard the voice below her exclaim, an unaccented voice that I faintly recognized.

"Mom!" Justine's shrill voice shouted out in shock. I switched on the lights causing Justine to rush to get under her blankets. Bathed in crisp white light my mistake immediately became clear. Next to Justine was not Marcos, but Paul one of the associate attorneys at my firm. A wave of relief passed through me as I realized that I had been wrong. Of course this was quickly overcome by a sudden rage at the sight of my nineteen year old daughter in bed with my thirty year old co-worker.

"Mom! What are you doing?" yelled Justine frantically, "Get out of my room!"

"Liz, let me explain," added Paul clutching a white dress shirt against his lap.

"Explain?" I responded angrily in disbelief, "What the hell are you doing here with my daughter?"

"Mom, get out!" repeated Justine. I gave her stern look before turning around and slamming the door shut as I left. I waited outside as I heard them scrambling inside. A minute later Paul emerged sloppily dressed. I gave him a look of pure hatred as he shyly sneaked past me.

"I'm sorry Liz," was the only cowardly thing he could say as he made his way to the door. Justine locked the door before I could get back inside. I pounded on it demanding to know what was going on, but she refused to answer. I could her sobbing inside. After a couple of minutes I stomped down the hallway and into my room.

I waited for Marcos to come home downstairs on the couch near the front entrance. He came home a little before two o'clock. "Where have you been?" I greeted him angrily.

"Sweetheart, you're home early," he happily exclaimed as he attempted to kiss me, but I turned my head away to avoid his kiss.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked confused.

"Why weren't you home tonight?" I asked irrationally. "I just found my daughter fucking a man upstairs in her bedroom."

"Paul?" Marcos answered before realizing by the look on my face that he had just made a huge mistake.

"You knew? How could you...How could you not tell me!" I shouted in disbelief.

"Sweetheart, settle down, what is the big deal?" he asked calmly.

"The big deal? He's thirty years old!"

"So, what difference does that make," he answered back suddenly a tinge of anger in his voice as well.

"She is only nineteen years old," I answered unable to comprehend why he didn't realize what that meant.

"And so what? I'm only twenty-three," he answered back suddenly as if I had insulted him.

"But that is different," I answered automatically.

"How is it different?" he demanded.

"There is a huge difference between a nineteen year old girl and a twenty-three year old man."

"Why?"

"Because...because...because it is just is," I stammered out frustrated by his questions.

"I do not think it is any different," he responded unpersuaded.

"It is when she is your daughter," I finally let out. Marcos seemed to be more accepting of that explanation, although he still seemed upset by the other reason for my distress.

I pressed him for details about the relationship. Evidently they had been seeing each other for four weeks. Justine had been blatantly lying to me when she said that Susie the secretary had been giving her rides home. I had been so caught up in work that I hadn't even noticed Paul leaving around the same time every day. In fact the time I came upon them alone in the hot tub together Paul had actually slipped out the back gate when they heard my car pull up the driveway. I had been so suspicious of Marcos and Justine, that I again hadn't even noticed Paul's Porsche parked across the street.

I was angry at Marcos for not telling me, but at the same time I was so relieved that it hadn't been him in Justine's bed that I didn't want to fight with him. Actually I wasn't really even angry with him, I was just frustrated. Frustrated by my daughter's decision and frustrated by my own personal sense of guilt. Not only had I had I thought my daughter was sleeping with my boyfriend, but I felt like Justine was partially imitating my own love life, that I had set a bad example for her.

Plus, I felt responsible for putting her in that kind of environment with sleazy men who are so god damn cocky that they think they can do anything and have anything they want. If there was anyone I was truly angry with it was Paul. I was going to make his life at work a living hell.

The next morning when I woke up and headed downstairs I found Justine and Marcos talking in the kitchen. Neither of them seemed too happy to see me. Justine didn't even say hello, she just stared at me angrily before stomping out of the house like a little child, slamming the door shut as she left.

"How could you think that?" Marcos greeted me coldly with a hurt look on his face, "How could you think I was going to sleep with your daughter? Do you think I am such a bad person?" He asked, it broke my heart to see that he was so offended.

"Marcos let me explain..." I paused trying to formulate my justification. I had forgotten what I had initially said when I entered the Justine's room last night. Evidently she had not and no doubt told Marcos just to spite me, "After that day with Lucy in the pool I just....I just worried that you would desire someone younger then me. Someone closer to your age," I started to choke up as I revealed the doubts that had plagued me since I began dating him. "My daughter is beautiful. And you both seemed to be getting along so well, and that one day I found you in the spa."

"I told you why we were in the hot tub together," Marcos jumped in.

"I know now, but what about then. You guys were acting so suspicious, and I've been spending so much time away at work, and have been so tired," I just fired off one thought after another growing more and more emotional as I did, I was on the verge of breaking down in front of him.

"But how could you not trust me? I would never disrespect you like that. You think I'm that type of person?" Marcos said his eyes burning with anger.

"I'm sorry Marcos. I'm truly sorry. It had nothing to do with you. It is my own insecurities, my own fears. I doubted myself. I doubted why a person like you would want to be with me," I cried out, tears suddenly streaming down my cheeks. The fire in his eyes began to die down. He gritted his teeth and looked away from me as if trying not to cave in, but one more glance at more and the anger left his face. In its place emerged a concerned look, he approached me and embraced my softly sobbing body. It felt so good to be in his arms I squeezed him tightly to me not wanting to let go, but he moved away from me.

"I need time to think. Give me time. I will talk to you tonight," he said in a solemn tone that raised new fears, but the tender way in which he wiped away the tears from my cheeks and gazed upon me controlled those fears. He said good-bye and walked out the door.

Needless to say I had a horrible day at work. Paul tried to approach me, but the one glance from me conveyed enough information to make him reconsider that venture. Justine steered clear of me as well, but that was fine with me, at least for the moment, I still had no idea what I was going to tell her.

Not that she would have given me the chance, by the time I got home a little after seven, she had already left leaving me a brief note informing me that she planned on spending the night at Paul's. I scrunched up the message and threw it in the garbage. My older daughter, Marie, never gave me this much trouble. I realized how ironic it was that I had actually disapproved of her marrying her high school sweetheart when she was only twenty. Now, I realized what a gift it had been.

Marcos came home a little earlier than normal, before eleven o'clock. He looked tired and he barely spoke to me as he entered our bedroom, barely even glancing my way on the way to the bathroom. I gave him his space, knowing that he would eventually have to talk to me, although the coldness of his entrance only gave me more reasons for worry.

Finally he spoke, "Elizabeth, I am sorry I did not tell you about your daughter's relationship," he began by surprising me with an apology, "I should have told you."

He paused for a couple of seconds before I realized he was waiting for me to respond, "You don't need to apologize, Marcos."

"I do. I want you to trust me. That is why I was so hurt by your belief that I was sleeping with Justine. I need you to trust me."

"I do trust you Marcos," but he interrupted me before I could finish the thought.

"I never cared about the age difference between us. I was attracted to you and I thought you were attracted to me. Nothing else matters..."

"That's exactly how I feel," I emotionally reacted hoping to dispel any thought to the opposite.

"No, that is not true. You do see something wrong in the age difference. That is exactly what you said about Paul. That he is too old for your daughter," he added revealing the degree to which he felt offended.

"I know I made a mistake, I wasn't thinking straight. I was just so angry at the time. I don't like Justine dating Paul for a lot of reasons. I don't like him as a person. He's an arrogant prick and I felt that way before I discovered that he was taking advantage of my daughter."

"See, you think he is taking advantage of your daughter because she is younger than him. Are you taking advantage of me? Or do you think I am taking advantage of you?"

"Marcos, you are a completely different person than Justine. You are already grown up. Justine is still a child. It's my fault, I spoiled her. She isn't as responsible and experienced as you. There is no advantage in our relationship. I consider you equal to me."

"Yet you believed that I was sleeping with your daughter."

"I told you Marcos that had nothing to do with you. It was caused by my own insecurities. I overheard Lucy saying some things about you, that I couldn't satisfy you, that a young guy wants a young girl. That is what caused that thought to pop into my head."

"I cannot be with someone who does not trust me."

"I do trust you Marcos, believe me," it was plea straight from my heart, begging him to believe me. I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him. He stood motionless for a few seconds as if deciding what to do, but finally he wrapped his arms around me as well and started to gently rub my back.

"Marcos, I do trust you," I repeated. Before he could respond I slinked down to my knees. I knew there was no argument that I could make to convince him that I did trust him. Words alone can't create that feeling. The only thing I could do at that moment was show him that I wanted him. And I knew how I could prove that desire.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" Marcos asked in puzzlement. I ignored him, unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper, "Elizabeth I want to talk," he protested, but I knew talking wasn't going to lead to anything but more frustration.

I hooked my fingers inside his pants and boxers and tugged down. His cock reacted to the open air growing before my eyes. "Elizabeth, don't!" he gave one last verbal protest before my lips grazed his cock. That slight touch caused it to immediately stiffen. It pointed straight towards me begging to be sucked. I obliged sliding it into my mouth feeling the blood pulsating within it. I slid it in as far as it could go then slid it back out again sliding my tongue along the bottom of the shaft as I did so.

I've never been a big a big fan of giving oral sex. It has always seemed like a waste to me, wasting the potential of mutual orgasms for one, but I appreciated the significance of the act at that moment. I wanted to make Marcos feel special. I wanted to make him feel good without requiring that he make me feel good as well.

So in that moment I enjoyed giving it as much as I usually enjoy receiving it. I worshipped his sex, blessing it with kisses, teasing it with flicks of my tongue, and seizing it with my delicate hands. I caused him to gasp as I first gently massaged his scrotum, and then furthered my attention by bathing it with my tongue.

Instead of closing my eyes like usual I studied his cock, running my finger down the vein as I swirled my tongue around its head. Desiring his orgasm as much as I would my own I began to steadily bob my head, working his cock in and out of my mouth. He ran his hand through my hair as I did so, gently rubbing my scalp as my mouth pleasured his sex.

He suddenly placed his hands under my arms to lift me up. I shook my head in response, eyeing him as I sucked his cock, but he insisted using his strength to lift me up. He laughed as he squeezed me against him, the resentment of a few minutes ago washed away.

"You know how to win an argument," he playfully joked. He kissed me as he broke his embrace. I responded lustily lapping my tongue against his lips. He matched my intensity, the heat of our kisses igniting an urgent desire within him. He recklessly tore off my blouse, pulled down my bra, and cupped my breasts, "I want you naked now," he demanded tossing me onto the bed.