Triangled Up in Blue Ch. 03

The following story concerns a love triangle between a mother, her son and her best friend. All characters are over the age of eighteen. This is the third chapter.

Just before dawn I reached over and found myself alone in my mother's bed. The sheets on her side were rolled up haphazardly. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to pull her body close enough that the rhythmic pace of her breathing would lull me back to sleep. I headed towards the living room with the intention of getting her to come back to bed. Mother was lying awake on the sofa. There was a pile of tissues on the floor and looked like she'd been crying. I asked if everything was alright. She grabbed my hand.

"I feel so selfish, David."

"About last night? I already told you it's nothing to feel guilty about."

"No, that's not what's bothering me."

She told me how bad she felt about her agoraphobia, that her never leaving the house had placed so many unreasonable demands upon me. She was afraid she'd robbed me of the chance of ever having a life of my own. I deserved to have a serious relationship, maybe even start a family. She sniffled as tears began to run down her cheeks. I could feel the water forming in my own eyes. Mother wasn't the only one with mixed emotions.

The five years spent with Dottie had only been a partial distraction from the ten thousand pound elephant in the living room. There were moments -- entire days even -- when I felt totally pathetic; a twenty-five year old mama's boy whose "girlfriend" was his mother's horny sixty-something best friend. Yes, my physical needs had been met by this arrangement. But how many dreams had I given up on because I was afraid to leave my mother home alone for even a single night? The triangle between Mother, Dottie and me was dysfunctional enough but with Dottie gone my mother and I were on the verge of becoming an incestuous couple. Maybe it was better that she believed I was gay. If she knew how twisted things had really gotten it might have been more than she could bear.

"I just want you to know, David, if you ever want to get out on your own you are free to leave. Don't worry about me. I'll find some way to manage."

"It's okay, Mother. I'm here because I want to be," I said, though at that moment I was confused as to my true feelings.

We stayed together in silence for a while, my mother laying on the sofa while I knelt beside her and held her hand. The room slowly brightened as morning broke. The alarm sounded from the bedroom jolting me from the early morning daydream. Time to shower and get ready for work.

At the office I was so distracted that all I could do was stare at the data on the computer screen. The signals Mother was sending had me confused. At noon I told the team leader I was feeling nauseous and signed out. When I left the office building I had no idea how I was going to spend the rest of the day. Going home wasn't an option. Things had gotten too intense. No way Mother and I would be able to avoid a serious discussion just because the painters were working in the apartment. I headed for the mall instead.

As I was parking the car I had a sudden urge to call Dottie. We hadn't spoken since my mother and I first slept together two nights ago. Maybe she could help me sort out my feelings.

"Hey, handsome," Dottie said when she answered the phone. "What are you doing calling me in the middle of a work day?"

"I had to leave the office," I said. "The past couple days have been a real doozey."

I told her everything; the painters, sharing the bed, us masturbating. Dottie seemed pleased that we were on the verge of consummating everything.

"But it's a damn rollercoaster," I said. "I don't know what to make of it."

I asked what she thought about Mother leaving the bed and crying in the living room. Did it mean she was having second thoughts? Dottie paused for a moment, then said she didn't think that was the case.

"Women aren't like men. Men have sex first then start thinking about the implications. Women, well, we are much more likely to talk ourselves out of something good. We run through every possible outcome or scenario in our minds before deciding whether or not to follow our heart. If she is doing that it is a good sign."

"You really think so?" I asked.

"I do," Dottie said. "Her heart is telling her she wants to have a more intimate relationship with you. If she didn't she would have put a stop to it. You just need to get it done before she talks herself out of it."

"So how do I get her to take that final step?"

She paused for a moment and pondered the question.

"Is that what you want? Because if it isn't now is your final chance to bail out. Becoming lovers will change everything and if you decide later that it isn't what you want the two of you can never go back to being just mother and son."

I thought about what Dottie said for a moment. On one hand, if mother and I started sharing a bed it really wouldn't change our lives all that much. There was no way I would ever leave and very few women would be willing to put up with a situation like mine. But I had this nagging feeling that if I crossed the line with mother it would pretty much guarantee the rest of my life would follow the course it was already on. I'd always be one of those men who never left home; her little boy forever, never striking out on my own. The finality of it all bothered me more than the breaking any sexual taboo.

On the other hand, as much as I fantasized about leaving home and seeing the world, the truth is it wasn't likely to happen. So the real choice was whether Mother and I tried to meet each other's physical and emotional needs or spend the rest of our lives lonely.

"I do want that," I said, finally. "But I'm not pretending there is no cost."

"There's a cost to every decision in life," Dottie said. "You know that."

"That's true," I said. "The cost of us being lovers is far less than spending the rest of our lives ignoring our needs. I'd become bitter and Mother would feel a whole lot more guilt."

"Good," Dottie said. "Now here's what you need to do. You have to make your mother feel that same gentle, girlish sort of intimacy that made her fall in love with your father. Like two girls sharing a secret."

Dottie promised to talk to Mother that afternoon and we said our goodbyes.

After half an hour wandering various stores I started thinking about the previous night, especially the way my mother and I had talked about silky nightgowns and what color lingerie we'd look best in. The thought of Mother and I frolicking underneath the sheets while clad in satin and lace pretties obscured my mixed feelings. Tonight we would be sleeping in my bed. I decided that when mother came to bed after her shower not only would I be wearing something sexy but I would present her with a full length gown with a matching robe.

I browsed the lingerie section at JC Penney. The sleepwear ran the gamut from practical cotton gowns that did nothing to enhance the figure to bustierres that left little to the imagination. I decided that I shouldn't come on too strong and selected for myself silky black pajamas with red lace trim around the neckline. Sexy without going over the top. On my way to the register I picked up a pair of black panty briefs that looked like they would fit me.

After paying for the pajamas I left the mall and drove over to the west side. There was a small shop in the black section of town that specialized in lingerie and club wear for plus size women. Dottie had been a regular customer and brought me with her a few times.

A bell on top of the door rang as I entered the shop. I browsed the lingerie rack for a minute before I was approached by the salesgirl.

"Can I help you find something?"

"I am looking for something in a size 28. A nightgown."

"That would be about a 3X. Do you know the cup size?" she asked.

"Double D, I think."

The gown I'd conjured up in my imagination was both sexy and elegant, full length and trimmed with lace. Something that would draw attention to rather than diminish the vast swell of Mother's pear shaped body. I attempted to describe such a gown to the sales girl but stammered as words began to fail me.

"I think I know what you need," the salesgirl said. "We have some bridal peignoir sets over here. They are a little pricey."

She led me to a small rack in the back of the shop where each gown and robe set was draped in clear plastic wrap. The salesgirl removed the wrap from two peignoir sets and presented them for my approval.

"These are the only two full lengths we have in that size," she said.

The first set was pink. I remembered what Mother had said about pink not being our color and set it aside. The other set was a ruby red satin gown with a gold embroidered neckline. There was no built in bra like some of the baby dolls in the window but the bodice was made out of a spandex type material and seemed up to the task of supporting Mother's tits. The set included a full length chiffon robe and a thong wide enough to fit Mother's waist. I told the salesgirl to box it up and wrap it. I also selected a black baby doll with a built in bra and a sheer skirt that I thought would fit. At the counter the salesgirl explained how when it comes to plus size lingerie sizing is difficult. All of the items were returnable as long as the tags weren't removed.

At dinner mother and I spoke about everything except what was foremost in our thoughts. My stomach tingled every time I thought about the boxes of lingerie I'd placed on top of the bed. After dinner we shared a blanket as we snuggled up in front of the television. Mother had her arm around me as I rested my head just above her bosom. But when I placed my hand upon her thigh mother grabbed me by the wrist and placed it once again on her belly. At ten o'clock she shut off the television.

"I'm going to sleep in my bed tonight," Mother said.

There was a quick shudder in my chest and I swallowed once.

"But what about the fumes?"

"I've had the windows open all day," she said. "I don't think it will be that bad."

I must have looked as crestfallen as I felt because Mother grabbed both my hands.

"David, look," she said. "I don't think it is good for us to sleep in the same bed like that. It had been so long since I've been with a man that I allowed myself to get carried away. That is my fault and I'm sorry."

"But I don't have a problem with it. We both have needs..."

"It isn't right for me to use you to meet them," Mother said. "You need to have your own life and shouldn't spend every night home with your mom. It's been months since you've gone out in the evening. What happened? Did you break up with...a partner?"

I averted my gaze from hers and stared at the blank screen of the television. I could feel the water form in my eyes and sniffled once.

"I was in a relationship but it ended," I said.

Mother placed her hand on my shoulder, squeezed gently then began rubbing my upper back in a clockwise motion.

"That must have hurt," Mother said. "What happened?"

"My...partner moved out of state."

"You know, you could have talked to me about it," Mother said. "You didn't have to keep it a secret. I don't care if you're gay. You can be open with me."

I was quiet for a second as I considered what I was going to say. Despite what Dottie had said about Mother believing I was gay being advantageous I still had my doubts.

"This wasn't with a man," I said, finally. "I was involved with a woman."

Mother tilted her head skeptically as she absorbed this new bit of information.

"Really?" she asked. "Why did you keep it a secret? Was she married?"

"No. She was an older woman. Older than you."

Mother stared at me for a few seconds. Her eyes widened as it slowly dawned on her what had been going on for the past five years. She looked downward.

"Dottie?" she asked, softly.

I nodded. Mother closed her eyes and squeezed my hands. For a few moments the only sound in the room was the cars passing outside.

"It all makes sense," she said, finally.

"Did you know?" I asked.

"That's a good question."

She told me it was obvious that Dottie and I were close but hadn't considered the possibility we were lovers, probably because it was something she didn't really want to know about.

"She and I just spoke this afternoon," Mother said. "Strange."

"What did you talk about?" I asked.

"The usual," she said. "How we're getting on now that she's not here. I told her about this morning -- not about what we did in the bed but how guilty I felt. She told me you wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be."

"I do want to be here."

Mother touched my neck with her fingers and laughed softly.

"I always figured you were having a discreet relationship with another man and that's how I justified keeping you here with me. So there's a chance I might be a grandmother after all?"

"Not really," I said. I explained how the only women I was attracted to were past childbearing age. Mother shook her head.

"So sissy boys and grandmas," Mother said.

I shrugged and didn't try to correct her. Things were complicated enough without Mother thinking what had happened the past two nights was something other than the two of us getting naughty after looking at gay porn. It was an option I wanted to keep in play.

Mother wanted to know about the nature of my relationship with Dottie, whether we were in love or if it was only about the sex. I explained that we had an understanding, how she had taken care of my sexual needs since the time I was twenty so I wouldn't be tempted to leave home. On one hand it was a relationship borne of convenience. On the other, our emotional bond had always been as close as any two relatives could be whether related by blood or marriage. Our lovemaking was as much about preserving the integrity of our family as it was about satisfying our desires.

"Did you ever talk about what would happen after she was gone?" Mother asked. "We always knew she was going to Florida when she retired."

I don't know what came over me but at that moment I decided to put everything on the table. It was risky and Mother was bound to be shocked initially. But the way things were going it didn't seem like I'd have another opportunity to share her bed. Putting things out in the open would give Mother a chance to consider things from Dottie's and my perspective. She might warm up to the idea. I took a deep breath as I prepared to disclose everything.

"Dottie believed that the best thing the two of us could do after she moved was for you and I to take care of each other in that way."

Mother jolted her head upright and brought her hand to her mouth.

"She said that? What did you say when she brought it up?"

"My first thought was that she'd lost her mind," I said. "But then she told me the other options were me moving out and spending the rest of my life feeling responsible for whatever happens to you or the two of us staying here together with me feeling bitter and you feeling guilty about everything. When she put it that way I realized that there are no easy answers."

"As if incest is a viable solution to agoraphobia," Mother said. "And how do you feel about this idea?"

"Honestly, I never thought it was something we'd consider. I mean, was I supposed to bring it up at the dinner table or something? But these past couple nights, well, they made me see that having that kind of relationship might be something we'd both enjoy."

Mother sniffled a couple of times and tears formed in the corner of her eyes. She brought my hand to her mouth, kissed it then pressed it against her cheek.

"You are good to me," she said. "But the two of us going to bed every night as if we were married? That's just crazy."

"Crazy? It didn't seem so crazy last night."

"Look, David, last night...I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. But I'm afraid we're on a slippery slope. I mean, incest? Who does that sort of thing? Sex offenders and perverts. Once you start on that path that's where you'll end up. Some dirty old man stealing ladies underwear from the laundry room or peeking in people's windows while they get undressed. Is that what you want?"

I paused for a second as the tears formed in my own eyes.

"I want us to be as happy as possible in our situation," I said, sniffling. "If the two of us sleeping in the same bed every night makes us happier I don't see the harm in it."

Mother pulled me closer. I nuzzled up against her shoulder as she cradled me, stroking the back of my head. We stayed like that for a while. Then she patted me on the shoulder and released me from her grasp.

"Honey, this is a whole lot to take in," she said. "Let's just call it a night, go to bed in our own rooms and revisit this another time."

The two of us stood up from the sofa. Silently, we walked to our bedrooms on opposite sides of the hallway.

I stood at the side of my bed. The three boxes of lingerie -- a baby doll and peignoir set for Mother and a set of silky pajamas for me -- were on top of the bedspread. "So much for that plan," I thought. I grabbed the boxes and set them on the shelf in my closet next to the Sorry and Monopoly games. Then, for the first time in three nights, I pulled back the covers and climbed into my own bed.

As I lay there in the darkness I could hear my mother moving around in her room across the hall. She was restless, getting up from the bed and rummaging through the dresser. I thought she might end up tackling a major project like cleaning the oven or polishing her silver since housework in the middle of the night was her favorite way of dealing with insomnia. Then I heard the nightstand drawer slide open.

I quieted my breathing and listened for the tell-tale sounds of mother playing with her toys in the darkness. The creaking of the mattress and box spring would have been unnoticeable in daylight but in the late night still of the apartment they carried like a dripping faucet or the ticking of a clock. I wondered if she was imagining me next to her, caressing her supple belly and the velvety smooth skin of her inner thighs or maybe just holding her in my arms as she wiggled and writhed. Her occasional whimpers and gasps became more frequent before ending abruptly, those few tranquil moments of suspended animation just prior to orgasm. The quiet was broken by mother's stifled moans and the bed frame shaking as though a small child was bouncing playfully. It went on like this for a moment or two before everything faded into stillness.

I tried to bring myself to sleep with the upward strokes of my fingertips upon my shaft but Mother started moving around again, opening and closing drawers as she padded about her room. She walked across the hall to the bathroom and was in there for a while. I wondered what she was doing as I listened to her rummage through the medicine cabinet.

The door to my room opened. I shielded the light from the hallway with my hand as Mother stood in the doorway. She hesitated for a moment before shutting the door behind her. At my bedside she removed her heavy white bathrobe and laid it across the back of a chair. She was completely naked, her pale flesh heavy and loose. The heady scent of perfume radiated from her body and filled the air like fog on a humid night.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked.

"Something like that."

Mother turned on the lamp. She'd applied makeup in the bathroom. Her lips had a deep burgundy shine and she'd traced a black border around her eyes with mascara.

"I want you to take a good long look before we go any further," Mother said. She lifted her bare breasts with her hands. "This is what you get. It better be what you want."

"It's nice," I said. "Can you turn around?"