Oh God, What Have We Done?

After the story was posted a very good and understanding editor offered himself to do the editing. His name is Pepere and he made a wonderful job. Many, many thanks, PEPERE, you are the best.

F

Part 1

1

Dr. Song family

The Cathedra continues arguing, although increasingly less whether sexuality is an individual's personal choice, environmental effect, or is already programmed in our genes and is not an option, but an inheritance from our ancestors as unavoidable as the color of the eyes or hair, the height, a mark on the body, or diabetes. As we'll see in the case of our main character, her genes marked her tendency.

Moira Song is her name. Dr. Moira Song is a forty-eight year old gynecologist, divorced, with only a twenty-one year old married daughter, Christine. Everyone inside her family knows that she is bi in her sexual preference; in truth, she is a closet lesbian and well advanced in her way to be a lesbian mother with incestuous tendencies on her mind. A path known to her in that she has been a lesbian daughter.

Her married daughter, who is a student at some University, got pregnant by her student boyfriend and they were forced to marry as a result. Since they didn't have the means, and his parents were unwilling to support a family of students with a child, Moira Song took them to live with her in her parent's old mansion, at her expense.

Dr. Moira is the only child of a family in which her parents' attitude and failed marriage marked her for life. Her father was a renowned obstetrician, whose greatest ambition was that her only daughter would become a famous lawyer, not a medical doctor, and least of all, not a gynecologist.

Her parents married when they too were both in the University; her father was a professor and her mother was a student. They met, they either fucked or made love, and she got pregnant. She was twenty-three and he her senior by fifteen years. Nobody who knew them thought the marriage was going to last, but they were still together after forty-five years; yes, they live in the same house, but only that. They are no more than enemy-friends and have been so for almost thirty-five years, an enmity not declared, but clear in all acts of their lives, and their daughter has known it.

Dr. Geoffrey Song was British by birth, the son of a second rank diplomat in the British Foreign Service posted in the United States when his son was a mere five-year-old child who, when his father was given the order to go to a new diplomatic destiny after some twelve years serving in the United States, refused to go to the new diplomatic destination with his family and stayed in the U.S. Dr. Geoffrey had always had an acute insecurity about his sexual orientation, he didn't like to date, and in fact, nobody in the faculty had known him date with girls or women before his sudden marriage to his pupil.

Most of the faculty members had him as a little strange, aloof, even rude sometimes, in his attitudes to colleagues and students. Some thought him to be asexual, not interested in sex with either gender. Aah, they were so wrong. Since Dr. Geoffrey was a teenager, he had what he saw as a strange compulsion; he felt a tingling effect in his manhood when near a good-looking boy or young man. His rigid Lutheran early education made that sensation a sin, something from the devil, something to fight. So in his concept, the best way not to sin was to abstain from any thoughts of sex, and oddly enough, that timid attraction for his own sex led him to study gynecology, a field in which he acquired the reputation as being one of the best.

What was his reasoning for choosing this discipline? Simple; in his naivety, he thought that the sight and permanent contact with hundreds of vaginas in a clinic practice would change his natural tendencies and make him like and appreciate the feminine sexual organs. It was a major surprise to him, that in no time at all, the sight of a pussy, no matter the beauty, the age of its owner, or of the pussy itself, was disgusting. It wasn't so strange, since the people performing in many areas hate their trades, nonetheless are very good at it, and he was very good attending women.

And what about the adventure of his marriage; why did he marry at all? Practically the same motives for choosing to be a gynecologist; he was trying to overcome that attraction about young boys or men. In addition, his bride to be, later his wife, was from a very rich family, and with a good private clinic practice and his professorship, although not a pauper, he wasn't as rich as he would be with the passage of the years. So he married himself an heiress.

The relationship of the new married couple went from lukewarm to cold, and was freezing cold by the end of their fifth anniversary. Having sex fell from once per month, to once in a while after the birth of their daughter, and stopped altogether after the third year. Bitterness was the word, they fought constantly, and in contrast to the majority of the fights most couples have, money wasn't the reason; the reason was, or so it seemed to, hatred for each other. If one asks oneself the reasons for this hatred, it is difficult to explain. It apparently was the sum of thousands of small things, with a prominent one, sex, or lack of it.

They had a beautiful baby girl; they had money enough to live comfortably and improving substantially with each passing year; the wife has money of her own, and liberty to use it as she wanted. They had the liberty to be with whom each would like, only keeping up the social and family appearances. They went together to family gatherings and social events, always with smiling faces and naturally joking and intermingling in conversations. The perfect couple; only their daughter knew the truth. Poor girl.

When the explosion came one day, ripping their tenuous family tissue, fate willed that twelve-year-old Moira was home and heard their very bitter discussion, with accusations and confessions between her parents this time that rocked her unstable world even more. She was accustomed to her parents' fights, knew that her parents didn't make love, and that her mother was unfaithful to her marriage wows.

She did know that her mother had lots of female friends, and it appeared so natural and even wonderful to her that at least one of her parents had friends and brought them home. But she heard things that late evening that she didn't understand at the moment, but later on, in the following months and years, she could understand all that her parents had thrown at each other in its immensity. The fragments of their verbal clashes she heard that night were particularly poisonous.

"...I don't want to talk about it anymore." It was her mother's voice.

"Oh, you don't, do you." Her father's British clipped voice, "Why, do you think I don't know about your affair with your college roommate?"

"Well at least she gave me love and pleasure, more than I can say about you."

"...&&##..." her father's voice was unintelligible, "...you bitch, why did you marry me then?"

"No, why did you marry me?" she heard her mother retort.

"Not for your or your family's money, that's for sure." Her father's voice was enraged.

"No, that's for sure, and I admit it you never used my money, you have been a good provider," her mother's voice was sincere and appreciative; but she couldn't change what has been their rough and wounding way to communicate, "... except in the 'fucking' department."

"Well, at least I gave you a daughter," she heard her father say in an ironic tone.

"Yes that's truth, casualties are casualties; you luckily fucked me on one of my fertile days."

"Luck, my arse; that, my dear, wasn't by random or luck, I decided which days were best to get you pregnant so I could end with that torture."

Her mother's voice sounded shrill and incredulous, "You son of a bitch, what do you call torture?"

"Fucking you, my dear, fucking you and putting my dick inside your vagina; that's torture to me," her father's tone of voice was sarcastic and slightly mocking.

Moira wanted to stop listening as her parents bared their moral wretchedness, but she couldn't.

She didn't understand everything they were hurling at each other, but their words were forever etched in her mind so that she wouldn't forget them; ever. Their conversation, by the way, was continuing in the same tone.

"So fucking me was torture for you? And I say 'was' because the last time you put your sorry excuse of a penis in my pussy was a lifetime away, at least ten years ago, if I remember rightly."

"Yes, that may be so, but your pussy can't complain if I'm not wrong, as you had it well attended by your lady friends, and if I correctly remember your cries, your lady friend sometimes had a substantial fake penis inside you."

She could guess by her mother's shrill tone of voice that she was enraged, furious at her husband's indifferent assertions of her sexual practices and the powerlessness that caused her not to be able to attack him in the same way. He could be sexless and indifferent to her nude body that neither often saw until now; in fact they had separate bedrooms since shortly after Moira was born, but she hadn't the slightest bit of proof that her husband was philandering. She had to find what the weak point in his armor was; she wouldn't be in equal terms until then.

Dr. Geoffrey could see the fury, the anger, the spite, and his wife's overall wishes to return the diabolic blows. The good doctor then surprised his wife with a confession, a confession that was going to bring calm to the spirit of his wife with the remediation of their situation; but it would be a fatal blow to the image her daughter had of her father.

"I'm going to confess something to you that I should have done years ago, but I couldn't; I'm gay, I have never had sex with a guy, and please believe me if I tell you I agree with your pursuit of happiness, sexual relief, or whatever you call it..."

"But then why did you..." Now little Moira's mother was thunderstruck.

"I had repressed impulses and was excited at the sight of some boys when I was young. I was wrongly convinced something was wrong with me and I was adamant about curing what was wrong, that's why I went to the School of Medicine and specialized in gynecology, with the wrong assumption that I would start to like pussies after seeing and touching so many them."

"I don't understand the logic of that thinking..."

"Of course you don't, both genders think differently, and it's easier for you lesbians to..."

She was very upset; "Excuse me, I'm a bisexual woman and I still like a real penis from time to time; that I didn't look more for them was out of respect for you and our marriage wows."

"Oh, I'm sorry, and I really appreciate your way of thinking, but with each passing month, I realized I should have studied urology. That way I could have had as many cocks in my hands as I wanted every day, without society frowning at me or worse."

"Yes, but why did you marry me at all if you felt that way?" Her voice had a depressing tone; she felt as if her life had all been a lie, which, in fact, it had been.

"I married you for the same reasons, to try to cure myself with someone I liked and still do; you must know I love you as a sister or someone related by blood. I'm very fond of you and hope we could live a peaceful platonic marriage from now on."

"That's easy to say... it's been a lie for so long..."

Moira didn't want to keep listening to their voices and she ran out the house to the small gazebo in the garden with tears in her eyes, where her worried parents found her in the morning, with traces of so many tears on her face.

2

Moira's independence

Life changed in the Song household; the girl became more introverted and rebellious as her parents' relationship stabilized with some semblance of normalcy once they had cleared things between them, and she was growing up faster than usual. But Moira was living in a hell of a world inside her mind, one in which nothing seemed to be truth to her. She had observed her parent's behavior for months as a scientist observes guinea pigs in a laboratory. She was meticulously trying to unravel the truth.

After what she had heard her parents say that fateful night, she wasn't sure about anything she had learned from them; she wasn't sure about her parents who, by the way, acted as if nothing was wrong in their lives as always, as if they were the happiest of couples, but she knew they were acting. Her father was acting, when after a few drinks at a party with friends, his hand went down her mother's back until it reached her buttocks and gave them a pinch that made their friends and their wives think, 'Wow look, the rascal still can't keep his hands off his wife after so many years.

But he wasn't the only one acting, since when her mother felt the pinch, she would turn around and with the most loving and sensual voice, would give him a gentle slap in his hand and say, "Not here, my dear, wait to be home alone," or when she would go into a corner with another of her husband's friends' wives who was one of her mother's lovers to arrange an appointment to go out to eat during the week, Moira would think, "Yes, I'm sure you both would be eating a lot of pussy."

And so the world keeps spinning; life goes on without apparent change and Moira realized she was officially a woman when her sheets were bloodied one morning. Her relationships with her parents were so stressed that her mother only knew of the arrival of her menses when the laundress mentioned it; if her father knew, he didn't mention it.

With her hormonal development, Moira got, if that was possible, more rebellious when at home, sometimes unkempt, careless of her clothes, sometimes leaving her lingerie on the floor instead of the hamper when she bathed, or worse when she changed her underwear directly without bathing. What she didn't fail in was her studies; she was always in the top ten of her generation. So in between fights with her parents and periods of indifference where she generally didn't even greet them, she ended her high school years with flying colors and received her promotion in the proud presence of her parents at the ceremony.

In a rare moment in which the family was gathered to eat one day in the middle of summer, prior to the beginning of the autumn university courses, Moira dropped two; no, I mean three bombs over the table.

"I want to tell the both of you a few things," her parents lay the cutlery on the table to hear what she had to say, since her talking or explaining herself to them wasn't a usual thing.

"First of all, I want to tell you that I know you are both homosexuals." You could hear a pin drop in the dining room. "I have known since I was twelve. You, Father, are gay by your own confession, and you, Mother, are not fully lesbian, you are bi, but you prefer women from my own observations. I also want to tell you that it doesn't concern me anymore, it's your life, and you live it as best you can."

"Second, I want to tell you that what is inherited is not stolen; I think maybe I'm a closet lesbian. I don't know since I've never been with a woman and I'm still a virgin, in fact, so until I taste a penis I declare myself as bisexual as my dear mother." The silence was deafening after this confession, her parents looked at each other, embarrassed and not knowing what to say.

"And third, I want to tell you that I have decided to enter Pre-Medical school, and I will specialize in gynecology after I take my Medical College Admission Test. I differ with you, Father; I like pussies and aim to love them if their owners let me."

Her father started stuttering, "...but you can't, I mean you, you...I oppose..."

"You can't oppose anything, my dear father; I'm twenty, I have my own money, and I don't ask you or Mother for anything. You, nor Mother, didn't give me what you should have when I was a little girl so now that I'm an adult, I'll make my own decisions. But don't worry, I promise I'll come to you for advice in the future when I have a problem in my profession or some difficulty at Uni."

"But, Dear..." her mother was wordless for once.

"Good evening to both of you and enjoy your meal, I'll see you tomorrow."

Her life changed from that moment on; she wanted complete freedom from her parents while going to college, and for that, it was necessary to leave home and rent a place to live, either alone or with a roommate to share expenses. She found a two-room apartment near the campus that it was modern, a little expensive, and easy to go to classes. It was tastefully furnished with a kitchen with every utensil and appliance needed to make a good meal; it had a luxurious bath with shower and Jacuzzi, and the dining room connected through an archway to the living room that had large windows directly overlooking the park.

She moved her clothes, books, and the most valuable of her personal belongings there as she was beginning her new life. Her mood changed and her personal appearance did as well; she now was an independent woman and would act as such, with responsibility, looking for new personal and, God willing, professional horizons.

She was a good-looking young woman, a few inches over average height, slim, with small breasts and long coltish legs. She was a good athlete who had excelled in long distance races where she tried to expunge her inner demons through the burning of energy and tiredness. Of course, the effort had molded her body, which although muscular, was very feminine.

Moira was about to begin her freshman year at the university campus she had chosen for a lot of reasons. It was located in the middle of a park area, and as she loved to run and exercise, she could do it every afternoon if she wished and the curriculum allowed. The gynecology department where Moira intended to major was said to be outstanding (couldn't be any less with her father on the faculty and teaching). Helping and treating the women's sickness in that area and bringing babies into the world was something she wanted to do for as long as she could remember, so she had figured long ago that she'd turn this inclination of hers into her profession.

Moira had learned from her orientation packet that this school would assign a senior as a mentor to every freshman. That mentor would guide the new student to campus life, and be available for the duration of the first year of college to advise and give support to the freshman when needed.

3

College initiation

Valerie was a senior and was to be Moira's mentor. They breathed a sigh of relief the moment they laid eyes on each other. These two young women, one twenty, the other about to turn twenty-three, could see they would get along very nicely. They curiously said hello to each other, and Valerie suggested taking Moira out for a late morning breakfast at a joint she really liked. Moira saw that it was a classy place which was a good start, as Valerie could have taken her to some plastic fast food joint, which Moira hated.

They talked and Valerie filled Moira in on where she was from and what college life had been like for her these last three years. Valerie already knew a bit about Moira from the material she got from the admissions office and for being whose daughter she was.

Moira, of course, being circumspect, and not one to be telling her intimacies, was reluctant to open up to Valerie on their first encounter. She first needed to better know who Valerie was as a person in reality, she would then see how much she could confide in this woman.

"Do you have a regular boyfriend?" Valerie asked Moira, out of nowhere.

"No, I don't," Moira replied a bit curtly, she didn't like too many personal questions "Hey, I'm starting college now, and it's a whole new scene. I want to meet and go out with new people; lovers will come when I'm good and ready."