Lessons for My Son Ch. 04

Adam came home the next Friday evening. I wasn't there when he got home and, by the time I did get there, Amanda (Mandey) told me he had already left to meet some of his friends. As usual, she was glad he had come home. "He seemed in much better spirits," she told me. "I hope he's coming out of this funk."

"I hope so, too," I said. "I don't like seeing him this way, but I don't know what to do to help him. He just needs more self-confidence, but he has to get it himself. I can't give it to him."

Amanda had a wistful look on her face. "Yeah, I know. He did seem a little more confident tonight, though."

I didn't think anything about her comment, until the next day. Adam normally slept until two or three in the afternoon when he visited. I always thought it was so he could limit his contact with us. You know. Visiting because he had to, but not really being there. I was surprised, then, when he came walking down the stairs at ten. I was sitting in the den, drinking coffee and reading newspapers on line, and Mandey was in her office in the back of the house.

"What, ho! Is the house on fire? What got you out of bed?"

"I dunno, Dad," he said. "But if I'm going to start this journey, I need to get an early start."

"What journey? You going to hike the Appalachian Trail or something?"

"No, Dad. But I just love dill pickles."

I spewed my coffee. I literally spewed my coffee. I wiped the screen of my laptop with my shirt sleeve, and grabbed a couple of paper napkins to blot the keyboard.

"Good Lord! Are you kidding me? How did you know it was me?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I didn't, but I thought it would be worth a chance. But now I know. I kind of figured it might be you, because I remember those nights in the hotels on our trip. You described them perfectly." He seemed a little embarrassed, maybe timid, but he cleared his throat and looked me in the eye. "Do you really think I..." He hesitated. "Do you really think I can?"

I just smiled at him. "Look," I said. "We can't beat around the bush on this. We need absolute trust with each other. I'm out on a limb here, and I have to know we're talking about the same thing. You're going to have to come out and say it, so I know what you think we're talking about. I'll start. I wrote something on the internet. If you read it, and you want to do it, then you're going to have to say it. What, specifically, are you talking about?"

He cleared his throat again. "Well. Here goes, and if I'm wrong, you can throw me out of the house, but only after I explain. Do you really think I can make love to Mom?"

I heaved a deep sigh of relief. He had read it. We were on the same sheet of music. "Yep, Adam. I think you can. I mean it about trust, though. If you ever say a word of this to your Mother, we will both be so screwed there's no getting out of it. She would think we conspired against her, she would think I corrupted you, and she would chuck us both out. Or worse. Promise me, no matter how this goes, you won't say a word about this."

"I promise, Dad. But we are kind of conspiring against her, aren't we?"

It was my turn to clear my throat and stammer a bit. He had asked a perfectly legitimate question, and on the face of it he seemed right. "Well, not really. I think we're just going to be helping her get what she really wants, which is a closer and more loving relationship with you. But to answer your first question, yeah, I think you can. I gotta tell you, I really think you can. You might not get to Valhalla. I can't promise you that, but I can promise you'll have the time of your life."

He had been standing in front of me. Our den was set up with sofas in an L shape, facing the television. He moved over to the adjoining sofa, and sat down.

"So tell me," I asked. "What did you do different when you got home, and how did she react?"

"Well. When I came in, I walked right up to her and gave her that hug you were talking about." He looked down. "I guess I was hard for the whole drive here, thinking about it, and I know she must have felt it when I hugged her. She didn't say anything about it, though, and just hugged me back. It seemed like we stood there for five minutes like that. Then I told her I loved her."

"How did she react? What did she say?"

Adam grinned. "She said she loved me, too, and then she hugged me again. I swear to God I think she pushed herself against me to feel it, but I'm not sure. But then she gave me a kiss on the lips. No tongue or anything, but I can't remember the last time she kissed me on the lips."

"Wow." I looked at him with admiration. "Son, you're off to a flying start. OK. I have some errands to run anyway, so I'll leave you two alone. After I'm gone, go in and tell her good morning, and give her a kiss on the lips. Ask her if she wants you to make her a cup of coffee. Act like it's no big deal, like you've been kissing her like that always." I could sense his excitement. "Damn," I thought to myself. "He's getting into this."

"You don't think that's pushing it too fast? You said tiny steps, remember?"

Ah, so he was a good student, after all. "Yeah, I did say tiny steps. But she started it. She lowered the bar a little bit, so there's nothing threatening about you reacting the same way. That's going to be your new baseline."

I went to the post office, the hardware store, and the grocery store, just to make sure Adam had ample time alone with Mandey. I wanted to make sure he had time, and I also wanted to emphasize to him through my actions that I was serious about this. I had written that I'd make sure he had plenty of time alone with her and that I'd not be jealous, so this was really a first test of whether I meant what I said.

At the grocery store I phoned Mandey to see if she needed anything. Her phone rang about five times before she answered, and she seemed a little out of breath. "Hello, Love," she answered.

"I'm at the grocery. Do we need anything that's not on the list?" I wanted her to know I would be awhile yet, as it was at least a 30 minute drive home from the store.

"Nope, can't think of anything."

"Adam still asleep?"

"Oh, no, he's up. I thought you might have seen him before you left. I almost passed out when he came into my office. When's the last time he got up before one in the afternoon when he's visiting us?"

"Oh. He okay?"

"Yeah. He just got up early, I guess."

"Is he there?"

"Uh, no." She sounded a little hesitant. "He must have gone down down to the basement."

"Well, I've got about 30 more minutes here, and then I'll head home. I guess about an hour." I'd make sure it took me at least an hour to get home, because I wanted to make sure she knew how much time they would have alone. I don't know why, but I thought maybe Mandey was getting into this faster than I thought she would.

When I did get home and carried the first load of groceries into the kitchen, Adam and his Mom were sitting on the bar stools at the counter. As I came in the back door, I could hear them laughing. I don't know when I last heard that joyous sound - the sound of Adam and Mandey laughing together - but I loved hearing it now.

"What are you guys up to? What trouble are you cooking up?" I sat the grocery bags on the counter.

"Oh, nothing," Mandey giggled. "Adam was just telling me about this funny thing that happened at work."

When I had come in, they had their barstools pulled close together, but Adam slid his a little away from his Mother when he saw me come in. "Yeah, Dad. I was telling Mom about how skanky our coffee pot is."

"Oh, I can imagine." I looked him in the eyes to make sure he knew what I was saying. "You want to go out with me to take the dogs on a walk? Your Mom still has the taxes to work on, so she'll have to stay here." I wanted Adam to know that he should go with me so we could talk more, and Mandey to know she was not really invited.

"Sure. Let me grab my coat."

When we got outside, I couldn't wait for an update. "So? How'd it go?"

"I did just what you said. I went into her office and right away kissed her on the lips. She was surprised I was up so early, and I told her I thought if I wanted to spend time with her I couldn't spend all day in bed. She blushed, I think, when I said that. She said she was liking this new me. I didn't know what to say, so I just bent down and kissed her again, and then went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. She came in and sat down beside me, and we started talking. She's really kind of fun, you know?"

I laughed. "You have no idea how much fun she can be, but I have a feeling you're going to find out."

He hesitated. "I was standing right next to her, rubbing the back of her neck, when you called. She told you I had gone downstairs, and then looked at me and winked. What do you think that was about?"

"What it means, Champ, is that she's already creating a secret relationship between the two of you. Why would she tell me that, if she didn't feel a little guilty about what the two of you were doing?"

Adam looked at me, and put his hand on my arm to stop our walk for a moment. "I do have some questions."

"Ok. Shoot. I guess you're allowed some questions."

"Well, Dad. I know what you wrote, but really, why are you doing this?"

At that question, I hesitated. I didn't know how much to reveal to him at this point, but it was a legitimate question. "You really want to know?"

"I think I should know, if I'm going to try it."

I looked at him. He was my son, and in that moment I loved him dearly. Maybe it was a small thing, but in that moment he seemed to be asserting himself in a way I had not seen before.

"I was in your position. I think almost every man wanted his Mother at one time or another, and I think almost every man harbors that desire, in some degree, as long as he lives. Freud said the Oedipus Complex should pass by the age of five or seven, or something like that, and I call bullshit. At seven I didn't know what sex was. But anyway, from the moment I learned what sex was, I wanted her. Even when I was in college I wanted to make love to your grandmother more than I ever wanted anything. I was always rubbing her butt. She knew what I wanted, and she never said anything about it to anyone. It was our secret. One night, when Dad was on a trip and everyone had gone to bed, I went into her room and knelt on the floor by her bed, just talking with her. I rested my right hand, on top of the covers, where I thought her pussy was and my left hand on her breast. I didn't move them. I just put my hands there."

Adam gave a half grin and said, "Grandma?"

"Oh, yeah," I quickly replied. "She was a hot woman, your grandma, rest her soul. But anyway, she was all covered up in bed and I had my hands in strategic spots, and she said to me, 'You know we can't do what you want.' As I remember, and this was a long time ago, I just mumbled something like, 'I know,' and me and my hard dick shuffled out of her room. I didn't realize then that she was not saying, 'No,' but was really saying, 'Let's talk about this. Reassure me we can do it without anyone getting hurt.' Well, not long after that I found a girlfriend at school and my interest in Mom went into hibernation. Some years later I tried to rekindle it with her, and she would have none of it. I think I hurt her. I think she perceived it as me just trying to get a piece of tail, and she didn't know how deeply I loved her and wanted to make love with her. It affected our relationship until she died."

The emotion was heavy with me, but I looked in his eyes. "I don't want you to make that mistake with your Mother. I know it's weird, but I think in a way I can make it up to my Mom by helping you with yours."

I laughed then. "God knows it will be exciting."

"Ya think?" Adam laughed, too, and the tension passed.

"Thanks, Dad. I have one other question, though. You talked a little bit about incest in your letter, but how can you be sure this isn't going to screw us up psychologically?"

"I see you've been doing your homework. Read everything you can read on the web about incest, have you?

"Uh, yeah."

"OK. Once you get past the erotica posts and the fictional part and get into the psychological studies, what do you find?"

He hesitated, and I could see that something was troubling him. "Seems like everybody who's done it ends up pretty much screwed up."

"Yeah, it does seem that way, but let's look at it. First, most of the studies I've read deal with underaged incest. As I told you, that's an abuse of power and is just wrong. It is child abuse. Since most of the cases the psychologists get are a result of child abuse, of course there are going to be damaged individuals. In fact, I have not seen a single psychological study that involves cases of consensual adult incest, have you?"

"No, I don't think so. They were all kids when it happened."

I knew this was bothering him, so I went on. This would be information he could use with Mandey, if it came to that. "But there's more. The psychologists mostly base their case studies on the people who have come to them. People with problems. I don't think anyone is going to walk into a psychologist's office and say, 'I'm having adult consensual sex with my Mother, and I'm pretty happy about it.'"

Adam laughed at the image of happy people making appointments with psychologists. "Yeah," he said, "I can't see a lot of people making appointments and spending money, just to explain how happy they are."

I continued. "But look at the numbers. One study I read said that an astounding 20 - 35% of college kids surveyed had a history of family sexual contact, with most of it between siblings. That didn't necessarily have to include actual intercourse, and I'm not surprised that the numbers are high. Kids play and experiment, even if it's just learning how to kiss. Mind-blowing to me, though, are the studies that reflect that one in 33 women, or 3% of the population, have had sexual contact of some sort with their son, and it cuts across all socio-economic strata. It may be just touching her butt, or full intercourse, but think about it. One in 33. That means you know someone who is doing it. That means, that right now in America, there are a million people, maybe, doing it right now. I'm not a demographer or statistician, so maybe I'm reading it wrong, but the fact is, it happens and it's happening right now. They claim Mother-Son incest is the most rare, but is that because it's really rare or because people don't report it, even in seemingly anonymous surveys? Right now, somewhere in America, a son is having sex with his Mother. If's it's consensual and both parties are adults, where's the harm?"

I saw that my comment had gotten him. "I know someone who is doing it?"

"Sure. Chances are, I would say, you do. So, once you recognize that it is happening, the question is no longer, '...if someone I know is doing it.' The question becomes, 'OK. Someone I know is doing it, so who could it be?' Maybe no one you know is doing it, but if you go by the numbers..." I let my comments trail off.

"Wow," he whispered. "I always wondered about Jim and his Mom. She always dotes on him and, hell, he's my age and he still lives at home. You think?"

"Could be. Watch their interactions, and see. But don't ever mention it to him. If they are doing it, it's their secret. You wouldn't want someone getting into your secret, would you?"

"No way. Us guys used to talk about MILFs and whose Mother we would do, but that was just guys talking. Teen-aged hormones, you know. Damn. I'm going to start looking at people differently, aren't I?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll tell you this, look at any middle-aged, or even older, woman and no matter what she looks like, there's a son who would love more than anything to get her in bed."

I looked at him. He was totally into this conversation, and I couldn't remember the last time he and I had shared such a deep conversation about anything. "But now let me ask you a question. Why have you been so distant with us for the past couple of years? You rarely come around. You avoid us. You never really sit down and talk with us."

The sadness that crossed his face told me, even before he spoke. "You just said it. I've wanted her for years. Hell, as long as I can remember. I knew it was wrong, though, and I guess I became distant as a sort of defense mechanism to keep from doing something stupid and because I felt guilty about it."

I had known already, I think. After all, I had done the same thing. "It is wrong, but not for the reasons you think. You want to have an affair with a married woman. That's wrong, isn't it? But affairs happen every day. Sometimes people get hurt, and sometimes they don't. That's what it's really all about, isn't it? We don't want anyone to get hurt. If you have that sort of relationship with your Mother, it makes both of you happy and no one gets hurt, then where's the harm? You're a man and she's a woman. As I said before, when it's two consenting adults, then incest is just a label."

I turned around. "We've been gone for awhile so we'd better head back. When we get there, I'll mess around in the garage for a bit, and you go kiss her again. Be happy, OK? You've got a plan, and you're going to make it happen. But one more thing. I think you're ready to start thinking about how to push the envelope a little bit. I'm not sure I'd be comfortable talking with you directly about that, so I'm going to write it for the group. OK? Besides, there may be others who are looking for a little coaching, and I don't want to leave them hanging."

He laughed. "I can't wait. Others may criticize your writing as being boring and slow, but right now you're my favorite author!"

The rest of the weekend passed pretty quickly and he was soon pulling out of the driveway to head to his own apartment. As he left, Mandey stood next to me, with her arm around me. I had not seen her so happy in a long time. "He seemed different, didn't he?," she said, wistfully. "Happier than I've seen him in awhile."

"Yep," I said. "It seems like he's finally getting focused about what he wants. I love seeing it."

Our sex life had gotten not stale, but predictable, over the years of our marriage, as it does with all marriages. That night, though, she was much more excited than I've seen her in a long time. She always loved breast play and my sucking her breasts, but this time she practically attacked me with them. She held her breast and pulled my head into it, then rubbed my head as I sucked as much of her breast into my mouth as I could. It was like a mother, giving her baby suckle.

What made me know what was going on in her head were the first words she said after we had finished and were laying back, snuggling together. "I may try to go visit Adam next weekend. I'm sure his apartment could use a good cleaning."