Parents Anonymous

I looked at the cross shaped window that lit up with gold from the midday sun. I felt really peaceful with the deep inhale. I planted my hands palm down on my khaki pants. They felt slightly sweaty. I pressed my golden wedding ring a little harder against the pants. It always gets a little sticky and constraining when I feel anxious. Those quiet group moments always started really peaceful. The whole group gave me space to collect my thoughts, but towards the end, I started feeling my throat constricting to the point where I was sure that only a squeak would come out of it.

"My name is Jasper. I'm a parent. Nina is my daughter. She is a lovely sophomore and staying home during her study to save money. She had her nineteenth birthday recently," I told the audience.

There was Sally, a black woman with curly hair. She always fuzzed about what was right and wrong for her kid to do. There was Richard, the group leader, who dressed in black and gardened when he wasn't hosting group meetings. There was Sam, the computer geek, who was always very sensitive. There were also a few newcomers.

"I struggle with the feelings that come up in me. I feel guilty about them. Nina is still a little girl in my eyes. I can see the chubbiness from when she was a baby in her cheeks. But she is also an adult now. She is tall and slender. And when she dresses to drive the boys in her class crazy, well, I feel a little crazy as well."

I paused. Sally was picking peanuts out of a small bag. Sam had a flush red face already. Richard grew a bulge in his pants. We were all guilty to some degree. We came here every week to dump those guilty feelings.

"So last Friday, she came home. She twirled a car key around her finger. I didn't even recognize it as a car key at first. I was busy putting the chicken tenders into the frying pan. But she boasted about it. She got a new car. I mean, she got a brand new car. We had talked about a used compact after Christmas, after she had saved up some money from Christmas gifts."

I had to pause because the blood pressure was already shooting up in me. Sally waved the finger to condemn my daughter's action. Nina does these things. It's not simply that she does these things, but she won't listen to what I tell her about it. It's like it doesn't sink in. Then the heat shoots up in. My wife will say that the fire shoots out of my eyes and that my blood vessels in my cheeks turn into red lines.

"Okay. I read in a parenting book to take breath... take a moment. And then to ask neutral fact finding questions. Let's not assume. So I ask her how she is going to pay for it. She tells me not to worry about it. She got a good loan. All good intentions went out of the window. The best I could do was to chew on my lips to keep the words in. So I tried my best with another neutral fact finding question. What is the interest rate? She blurted out 19%."

"I blew up. The Mercedes logo on the key put her at least out $30K. That's $5,700 interest a year. She doesn't have a job. My college and mortgage payments have me right at the edge every paycheck. She stood there middle in the hallway with her hip cocked to one side to tell me that I was annoying with her questions. She was wearing a $200 dress from Love and Lemon that I had paid for. It was blue dot white dress with a tight fighting body and fluidly flowing mid-thigh ending. The buttons were undone to show the top of her perky full sized breasts. She was wearing red slip on high heels. Her blond hair was flowing down her back. She was all that symbolizes easy breezy summer day and no responsibility at all."

"'You don't have the fucking money to pay any loan interest', I yelled at her full force. 'Get it through your head!' Her face snapped to impulsively upset. Her red lips rolled out to pout. 'I'll get a boyfriend who has a job that pays money.' She had threatened over and over to get a sugar daddy. 'You are not becoming a hooker!' I yelled at her. 'I've put way too much of my sweat and blood into getting you a good life and education.'"

"In hindsight, we were both so enraged that we only yelled things at each other. I was breathing so hard. My head was swirling. All I could feel was the drive to snap her straight. I don't know exactly how she experiences it. But her hair was flying through the air whenever she talked because her head and body would be so enraged in every point that she made. Her red youthful mouth wouldn't only spit words but saliva was freely flying as well, landing on the floor and on me. Her words would pierce my ear drums and echo back from the distant ceramic tile kitchen walls. She did seem a lot more like a woman than my little kid. And she had a feminine beauty in those pastel pink cheeks."

"I don't recall what we were yelling at each other. All I remember was that I wanted her to get: "You don't have any income to pay the loans. You are bankrupting me!" And then I asked how she even got approved for such a loan without a credit history. She said that she put us as co-signers down. But I shouldn't worry about having to do anything. She signed for me. My signature was very unimaginative and easy to copy. The word fraud lit up in my mind followed by the word prison. To imagine my daughter in prison was unbearable. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't jump out of my skin."

"And then I grabbed her. I wrapped my left arm around the middle of her torso to force her to bend forward. I lifted up the back of her dress. And my right hand started whacking down on her cheeks. Those two smooth cheeks with the soft skin and the baby blue G-string in the middle. I slammed down on her cheeks: You-don't-go-to-prison. You-fucked-up. You-can't-pay-a-loan. You-must-give-back-the-car. With each slap, I intonated a word into her to force it to sink into her head. And my eyes were transfixed onto that peach bum. The baby blue G-string was so soft and girly. It so barely covered her asshole. I was peeking at her barely concealed sex."

"I got aroused. It didn't help that her body was writhing around in the embrace of my left arm. I get a sensual impression of her whole youthful body, so tender, so slim, so flexible, so nubile, so fierce... I felt her boobs rubbing against the side of my arm. I felt the heat of her being fighting against me. It was so animalistic, so raw, so connected. And then I was raging hard. I was gushing with lust. It was like a switch had flipped the rage into animal lust. I was panting so hard and out of breath. I was so instinctively driven by my base instincts taking over. She was lost in the same animal instinct as her whole being fought with me and rubbed against me."

"I let go of her. I stepped back stunned. I was ragingly ready to fuck. I felt like I was a paper thin line away from ripping down that baby blue G-string and ramming in my dick into my very own daughter. I stumbled backwards to get away from that cliff that sucked me in like a vortex. The blood in my penis raged to plunge into the supple teenage flesh. I struggled to get away. I ran. I ran. I saw the restroom. I locked myself in it. I unpacked my dick and started masturbating hard. It was a fuck with my hand like I had never experienced before - heat and passion like nothing else."

"She knocked at the door, 'Daddy, I'm sorry.' Her words sounded rueful. I couldn't stop. I was so horny. It felt so good. I couldn't stop but drive towards orgasm. I furiously beat my meat, while she begged me outside to forgive her and to let her in. I was so gone. I didn't even care about her hearing me masturbate - the hollow sound of skin hitting itself real fast. Her voice pleaded so softly, "Daddy, daddy, please, let me in. I love you so much." The way how she put softness and tenderness into it only turned me on even more."

"I came. I poured ice cold water over my head. I came out. She was all tears and a heap of sadness on the frame of the bathroom door."

"My wife did some mediating. It turned out that she hadn't bought the car. She had simply taking it for a test drive and wanted to ask me to take a photo of her in the Mercedes convertible. However, my reaction had already early on been so strong that she got really pissed off and tried to make me feel what she was feeling. My wife told me that over tea in the kitchen in the evening. I offered to go and apologize, but she grabbed my wrist. I hear a buzzing sound in her room. I think she's self-soothing with a vibrator."

"It's the guilt that eats me up," I finished and choked up. Richard gracefully took over the circle. He thanked me and asked for the next person to share.

A small statured, brown Indian woman raised her hand. I had never seen her before. She was about 5 feet tall. She wore very sharp, dressy, and attention drawing clothing. It was like she was trying to overcome her small size with sharp stiletto heels that were pointy. Her white pants were very tight and had big sparkly stems on them. She had a black blouse that was at once snug and form fitting, big shoulders, deeply unbuttoned to reveal a décolleté of bulbous shape from the push up bra. It smelled like sharp office blouse and the fabric had a shine that called expensive cocktail party. Her face was exquisitely painted with red lip stick, blue eye shadows, cheeks contoured by the lights and shadows of the makeup. She definitely caught everyone's eye even though she, was very small.

"Hi, I'm Mukti. Jasper's experience resonates with me. Oh, I would never have dared sharing my story, if you hadn't trail blazed. I thought that I was alone. I planned on only observing in my first meeting, but now I'm burning to tell you my burden."

"I'm a step mom. Yes, I'm a step milf." She laughed at herself. "Matt is my husband's son. He's also a sophomore at the same college and also staying home to save money. He's a tall guy. He's about 6' 4". He has a big hair of curls on his head. It's like an ocean of 5 inches of curls all around. He's tall like my husband. My husband is from Montana, a white originally European man. Matt is huge. I am tiny. He is sometimes so clueless, but I guess all teenagers are. I like the finer things. I have a PhD in biology. I like to discuss things. Matt likes football. When he doesn't understand something, he says, 'Fuck it. I'll simply do it.'"

Everyone in the circle smiled and waved at Mukti to welcome her into the group.

"To give an example, last Wednesday, I was stepping by at home to change into nicer clothes to give a presentation at a symposium. On my way out, I glanced my face in the stainless steel refrigerator. My makeup needed some touching up. I was very quiet and focused on getting it right. Matt probably didn't notice that I was home. He was in the living room on a video chat with a friend. His loud booming voice carried the conversation through the whole house."

"'Yeah, so I fucked Lisa at lunch break today. She was super nice. She got me a muffin and asked me to hang out with her in her car at the college parking lot. Once we got in the car, she put her hand on my chest right away. I so knew that it was on. We made out a bit. Then I grabbed her and pulled her onto the back seat. She really liked the way that I could lift up her body and move her. I told her that I had to be back in class in 15 minutes. So we should get right to it.'"

"'She said that she wasn't wet yet. She got all reluctant. I told her to stop her bitching. It wasn't my fault that class was in fifteen minutes. I told her to handle her situation and to get the fuck wet. I got myself hard for her. It's only fair that she does her part. I ripped down her panties. She seemed wet enough to me. She told me that I fucked her so well that she came real quick...'"

"Well, I was furious! What kind of buffoon was he? I was standing in front of him. I had shut down his video chat. He had hurt that delightful young woman. He was completely clueless about sex and female needs. He looked at me surprised, 'Oh, Mukti. I didn't know that you were home. I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I have a loud voice. I can't help it.'"

"'You did a very bad thing', I told him and wagged my finger in his face to get him to pay attention. 'You have to arouse the woman. It takes time. You have to know how to trigger her arousal."

"He told me, 'Yeah, that's feminist bullshit. It doesn't work in the real world. Women want to feel that a man is a man and that gets their panties wet.' He looked at me like I was a lost puppy in the rain who had gotten it all wrong. And he was being generous to let me in on how things really work."

"I had gotten that attitude so often in my life. People pass over me. I was the best in class, but people questioned everything I said and wouldn't believe me. It triggers a button in me, where I get so loud that people must pay attention to me. It's like people would walk all over me and not even notice if I don't cry out. So with the eyes popping out of my head, I screamed at him: 'I'm going to teach you a lesson that you won't forget!'"

"With that, I grabbed his curly hair. It was really easy to dig my hand into that curl ocean, wrap my fingers around it and yank. Like that on my six inch high heels, I pulled him to the kitchen behind me. He had to walk bent over. Once we arrived, I let go of him to rummage through our oversized fridge in the vegetable drawer. He mumbled behind me with his huge resonant voice, 'That really wasn't necessary.'"

"I got my hands on a nice big horse carrot. With the free hand, I rubbed against the skin to get some of the dirt off. I barked at him, 'pants off.' He protested and told me to 'take a breath, bitch.' He still spoke softly. He didn't take me seriously. He thought I was some nuisance little gnat that would fly off if he ignored me. But I grabbed his right nipple and twisted it hard. He screamed in agony and quickly pulled his pants down. He left his drawers up."

"I took a no-nonsense attitude with him. I pulled down his drawers to his knees. I kicked into the back of his knees to make him buckle. So unsteadied, I pushed his chest onto the kitchen island. 'Tell me how this feels,' I ordered him and pushed the raw carrot into his ass."

"He screamed in agony and whimpered like he was ten years younger. I did have his attention now. I pushed the carrot in and out of his ass and with each shove intoned into him: THIS. IS. HOW. IT. FEELS. TO. A. WOMAN. IF. YOU. FUCK. HER. PUSSY. DRY. He was crying. He was begging. He regretted what he had done to Lisa. I must admit, I enjoyed playing with such a muscular and well trained ass. There was joy on my side. I didn't feel as angry anymore. I felt actually quite happy to explore his ass."

"When he finally arrived and whimpered, 'I'll never ever - ever fuck a woman until she is fully aroused and wants it,' I smiled at him. 'Good, boy. I'll show you what feels nice.'"

"I got some hand lotion out of my purse. I rubbed it liberally on the carrot. I massaged some more lotion around his anus with my fingers. I made sure to put my index finger in his anus to swirl the lotion all around. He had calmed down. By the time, I put the carrot tip to his anal sphincter, his dick was hard. He was similar to my husband, about twelve inches, very pale, and nice thick."

"I gently moved the carrot a little bit in and out, patiently taking my time to get the thicker and thicker part of the carrot into his ass only when he had relaxed enough to enjoy it. Judging from the engorged bulb of his penis head, he was fully aroused and ready to burst. I checked my wrist watch. It was time to leave for the symposium. 'I leave the rest for you to finish. I believe you know how to treat women better now.' With the carrot sticking out of his ass, I walked out on my twenty year old step son."

"The strange thing is that ever since, carrots and cucumbers have gone missing. Yesterday, his basketball team had come over to update the playbook. I wanted to treat them well with a carrot cake. I could swear that I had bought a 5 lbs. bag of carrots, but when I was ready to bake, they were all gone. I can be forgetful. Maybe, I simply don't keep track of the vegetables."

"I think that I did a bad thing. I mean it was for a good cause. But still I lead my anger drive me to use force."

A large, black woman cleared her throat. The hum-hum echoed from the walls. The group narrowed their focus on her. The group was a mix of people: skinny, gray middle-aged office slacks folded knee over knee with the heel impatiently popping up and down, a puddle of oversized brown sweater over a pudding of inactive couch man, and bald saucer sized spot on a head with a face too sour to do anything but spit out rules. The woman was her own character. Her sausage sized fingers played on her knee and rearranged the gold rings. Her navy black tights ended in pink flip flops with the gap between the toes and second toe pinched tight by the fabric and the flip flop rubber. By the time, she finally decided to talk, everyone had taken in that magnificently sized woman with a belligerent belief in owning the time and attention.

"Hi, I'm Georgia. You all make me feel better about the terrible things I did. (She giggled to herself.) Of course, they are terrible, terrible. Do tell the judge that I sincerely regret it all. (She giggled to herself again as the office heels stopped flicking up and down. The kind of hard felt sorry spread over the faces of the audience.) There is no judge. You people have to lighten up a bit. (She giggled some more. The group grew a bit tense.)"

"So I did a thing. Oh, my daughter hates me so much right now. That angel of a woman Sabine. Before I tell you what I did, I should tell you a bit about how were living. I have four daughters. Oh, I know what's it's like to raise girls. I wish the lord had given me at least one boy. So money is tight. We live in a one bedroom. They should have long moved out, but they are still in various transitional stages of finishing college or working an entry level job that doesn't make enough to leave the nest yet. Money is tight, I said. We share a one bedroom. Adrianne and Sasha share the bedroom. Sabine and Monique sleep with me in the living room. We often keep the window blinds down during the day. Monique works the night shift at the pharmacy. So she sleeps during the day, and we lower the TV volume a little for her."

"Sabine is going to community college for biology. She's in her third year and has a very bright future ahead of her. One day, she brought back the college quarterback. You are probably thinking of a quarterback that you saw on a TV show. He's not that shining. It's a community college, but he does have some nice muscles on him, he's tall as fuck, but his face looks a little goofy - big round circles for eyes and an open mouth."

"You might ask how does a C student get the most priced bachelor. Sabine is skinny as fuck. It's like her hip bones stick out. You can put a ruler from hip bone to hip bone and there is a gap. On top of that, the deadbeat of a father wouldn't pay a cent for baby formula, but he got her ginormous tits. I mean they are birthday party balloon size. (The group got a little nervous at the sexual description. There was some sliding around in the cheap plastic chairs.) Well, and my girls have a reputation for doing the dirtiest and nastiest things. They'll put anything into their butthole. If there is something crazy going around the college, they were probably the first ones to try it. D'em white bitches are terrified of that lot if you pardon my French."

"So sweet Roger is sitting on the brown corduroy coach. The TV is still blaring a daytime talk show about a middle aged man finding out that his wife is trans after twenty years of marriage. They are about to have the audience vote how he should react. Monique is behind the couch on a mattress doing her high pitched snoring that she usually does when she had a stressful night shift. So Roger is peering over the stack of newspapers that I've collected over the last couple years, the two suit cases that are folded up on the floor because they are overstuffed with clothes, and the trash bag is still on the kitchen counter because none of those ungrateful daughters has taken it out yet. He probably was already nervous because he expected to get a brown session from Sabine or be strung from the ceiling. While his fantasy may have been a sparkling, mind bending rollercoaster, he probably didn't picture it with empty pizza and Chinese takeout boxes on the floor. But each time, the towering Sabine drew his attention back to her chocolate brown, trim belly with that fake sapphire in her belly button, he'd trace the outline of her abs up and down. A giant smile came onto his face. He was somewhere in heaven."