Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Slow, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - One cannot measure love in its entirety, nor can it be learned from text. Sometimes it requires one to look even deeper than the near surface, but what would one do when one discovers the truth?



My mother had to hate me. She's told me otherwise. I've heard sentences telling me this was for the best, and that I would have fun. That wasn't the problem. I knew I would have fun. It was the fact that she was 'shipping' me off.

My mother had to hate me. I wasn't so sure I liked her either.

"Everything packed?"

I shifted my eyes toward the door, seeing my mother leaning against the frame. She had her arms crossed, reddish-brown hair falling into her face. Mom let out a small sigh.

"Still not speaking to me?"

"You asked an obvious question."

"And apparently, still bitter."

"Wouldn't you be if your mother decided you were too much trouble and just sent you away? Thanks Mom. You really care a lot, don't you?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her flinch. I could tell I hurt her. I hadn't meant to, honestly, but the words had slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"This was your choice as well," Mom sent back, calmly. This was something I admired about her; when hurt, she never lashed out. She would bite her tongue until she knew she was calm. Katherine Rynolds was one of the most patient women I ever knew.

"Mac's more fun than Granma. No offense."

A slight smile crossed her face. "None taken. I know you two will have a great time. You've adored that man since you were a baby."

"So did you, apparently. You were married to him."

Mom chuckled. "Yes, we had some great times then. Oh the stories I could tell you... we had some good times afterward too... "

Ah yes. Mom's mysterious marriage to my "uncle" Mac. Eighteen years of knowing the two, I had never figured them out, much less their relationship. All I know to this day was that they met in college, eloped, and divorced a few years later. Wonderful knowledge, no?

The doorbell interrupted whatever I had been about to say. I grinned and dashed past my mother, who let out a small laugh. I reached the entry way to find my Dad had already greeted our guest. Mom and I had hoped we could get to the door first, considering even after eighteen years, Dad and Mac weren't on the best terms. Odd, I thought. Mom said they used to be the best of friends.

My worries were forgotten, however, as I grinned up at the man standing in our entry hall. Tall, lanky, red-haired and freckled, Mac looked exactly how I remembered him. It had been ages since he had been back in the States, having been stationed in the Middle East for a large chunk of years. Mom had always said Mac used the military to get away from the real world.

"Hey little lady," Mac greeted me, his nickname causing me to roll my eyes. In my eighteen years, the only man who has ever been able to refer to me as a 'little lady' and get away with it is Mac. Then again, that's his name for every woman. It's not condescending, as most might take it. It's how he was raised.

"Not so little anymore, Mac. I graduated last week."

"So I heard. I demand pictures, you hear?"

A small snort came from Dad. Mom chuckled.

"We figured you'd want them." She handed the package of pictures to the man. "They're doubles. Yours to keep."

Mac smiled. "Thanks Katie."

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the two only stared at one another. Until my Dad coughed, that was. Mom broke the contact, turning away to busy herself with something in the kitchen.

"Good seeing you again, Mac. I trust you've been taking care of yourself?"

Mac shrugged. "Same 'ol, same 'ol. I fly. I eat. I sometimes sleep."

"That sounds healthy for a commercial pilot."

"Never crashed, have I?"

"There's always a first time."

I rolled my eyes. "While you two decide to show off your testosterone, I will be grabbing my bags from my room."

I found my mother sitting on my bed, idly fiddling with the stuffed cow that had been sitting on my bed. She was biting her bottom lip — something she only did when she was troubled, or stressed. Something wasn't right here.

"You okay?"

She looked up and smiled, placing the cow on top of my packed clothes. "I'm fine. Just... reminiscing about things. Mac ready to take you away?"

I nodded. "If he and Dad don't kill each other first. You know how they are."

A snort came from my mother. "They've always competed. Far too many times." Mom stood and brushed her hands against her jeans, as if she was wiping away something. She gave me a bright grin, and before I knew what had happened, I was wrapped in a giant hug.

"I'm sorry things had to be the way they are," Mom whispered. "Trust me, I think this will do you some good. You'll get to go places, see things... Mac's a pilot, you know. And you'll come back from summer, ready for college, all bright and pretty and ready to do your schoolwork."

"School work? Right."

She shrugged. "Hey. A mother has to dream, doesn't she?"

I couldn't help but wonder, for a brief instant, if the life my mother had imagined at eighteen was turning out the way she lived now. We had a good family, my mom, dad, and I. A nice home, a nice family... the only real problem was me. I hated it all. Every bit of it. Call me strange, but at times, I wished our family had been as screwed up as those you see on TV. At least then, life wouldn't be so boring all the time.

I grabbed my packed bags (and the stuffed cow. Hey, he was important too!) and trotted into the living room. There, I found Mac and Dad having a rather tense conversation. They were friendly toward one another, but behind the act, you could tell both were equally as nervous around one another. Mac more so than my father.

The freckled man looked up and grinned as I entered the room. "Ready to hit the road?"

I nodded. "We have to fill up my car before we leave... unless of course, you'd like to get stranded on the highway."

Mac shook his head. "No no, that's not exactly in my schedule. We'll fill 'er up before we set out. Checked the oil lately?"

Dad nodded. "Yesterday. Do you seriously think we'd let our daughter drive a vehicle that was going to give her problems?"

"David."

My mother's voice broke the tension between the two, and I sighed. "Can we just get out of here?"

All three adults looked my way, as if noticing for the first time I was there. I rolled my eyes in disgust, and turned away, silently mad at them, and at myself. This was ridiculous. They weren't sixteen anymore.

Mac followed me out to my car, his brown eyes widening at the site of my Cougar. "Old car. Big car for such a small girl."

I shot him a look. "I like my car just fine, thank you very much. It gets me where I need to go, and right now, I need to get to your place before I kill my parents. Sound good?"

A snort came from the older man. "You're blunt."

"Been away far too long, Mac."


A tank full of gas, twelve cans of Coca-Cola, and a bag of chips later, Mac and I headed toward his home in Texas. I don't exactly care for Texas. Don't get me wrong, it's not exactly a bad state. I've been there a few times, but there is some un-natural rival about Texas and Oklahoma that just makes us not like each other. Odd that my 'god-father' is a Texan.

"I never thought we would leave that Wal-Mart," Mac was griping. "I should have known better than to take a woman into a shopping store. You never get out as quickly as you would with a man."

"It's not like I was wasting valuable time. We have all day to get to your house, thank you very much."

"Five minutes under my care and you buy a thong, and drug me through the bra section. Oh yea. Your parents are really going to let you stay with me again."

I snorted. Mac could be a little blunt at times.

I handed Mac a can and grinned. "Are you sure you're ready for a teenage girl?"

"I'm starting to wonder."

"You geezer."

Mac shot me a sharp look. "I might be older than you, miss, but I am not old."

He had a point. At forty-six years of age, Mac could outrun any highschool track jock that I knew from my school. Mom had always bragged Mac had the best stamina of anyone she had met. My Dad had always snorted, and stated that he didn't want to know what that meant.

As I've said, Mac and Dad have a rivalry.

I changed the subject. "Does it feel good to be going home?"

The older man shrugged. "I guess. I've spent so much time in the Middle East that at times, it feels like my home. It's not different than here. I have my friends, I have my co-workers, I have a house... things like that."

"How long have you been over there?"

"Almost twenty years."

I nodded. "Mom said you were drafted before you two divorced."

There was a small pause, and I turned my head to look at Mac. He was chewing on his bottom lip, something he only did when he was uncomfortable with a situation.

He finally spoke. "Yea. A few years."

His reaction perked my curiosity. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"You can ask. Can't promise I'll answer."

"What happened between you and Mom? You two always get along, joke around... like old friends. Old lovers. You have as long as I can remember."

Mac was definitely uncomfortable now.

"Mandie... If Katie hasn't told you anything, it's not my place to say."

"I'm eighteen! It's not like I'm ten and naive!"

"Your age has nothing to do with it. The last thing I want is for you to lose repsect for your mother, father, and myself. Katie and I had... marital issues."

"Marital issues?"

"Yes. That is all I'm going to say."

I frowned, but stayed quiet, knowing I wasn't going to get anything else out of him.

Mac changed the subject this time. "So, tell me about that senior trip of yours! You sounded excited when you wrote."

For the last hour of our trip, I told Mac about my trip to New York, and D.C. For those who lives around large cities, this is not a big deal - for me, anywhere outside Oklahoma is a haven. Sure, go ahead and laugh at the country girl. I'm used to it.

Though I was talking to Mac about my travels, and hearing about his as well, my mind was on other topics. Why was Mac so nervous about their divorce? Mom had always told me they parted on good terms... if that was the case, why was this such a huge deal.

I reasoned that I was making too big a deal out of it. Knowing me, I probably was.

Mac pulled into a small edition just about five minutes outside Austin, Texas. To me, this was a new home away from home. A place where I could concentrate on my writings, and getting away from my mother... all without being in the middle of nowhere.

"Like it?"

I turned, grinning. "Of course, you dork. Show me to my room!"

Mac matched my grin. "Right this way, Princess."

Another smile lit up my face. He had been calling me that as long as I could remember.

I followed Mac into the house, taking in it's surroundings. I had visited Mac in his Texas home only once, and I laughed, still finding it much the same. Mac lived like a bachelor who was missing a lot. Since his latest divorce, there were no traces of female evidence anywhere. Yet, the house was spotless. Either Mac hired a maid, or he had an OCD problem.

"Here's your room for the summer."

The room was huge, though it was obvious no one had occupied in it who knew how long. The comforter on the bed matched the white walls, and no pictures of knick-nacks were to be found. Oh yea. This was definitely a male's house. That would change.

"The bathroom connects to this room, so you don't have to worry about climbing down the stairs in the dark, or going down some long hall." Mac said. "I"m sorry it isn't... pretty. What the hell do I know about coloring?"

"It's perfect. I'll spruce it up."

"I figured."

Mom had been right after all. This was going to be an awesome summer.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Slow /