Chapter 10: Sex In The Dark

I suppose the future was predetermined for the three of us by what had happened in my bedroom that morning.

Betsy didn't blow the whistle. In fact, for several weeks she didn't do anything. That included talking to either of us or anyone else, for that matter. She had taken on a sullen, hurt look and it affected her performance at work while at the same time making her an alien presence in our little family.

She'd sit in the TV room reading or watching something and the only time she'd say anything was when either mom or I would ask her a direct question, forcing her to answer. She drew back into herself, as if her self confidence had suddenly been stolen from her. This was a side of her neither mom nor myself had seen before and it worried us.

Mom and I had absolutely no chance to have sex during this period. Betsy was always nearby. It was as if she had figured out where the potential liasons could take place and like a sentinel was guarding each one. If mom and I gravitated toward the hallway, Betsy had to go into the kitchen. If she woke me up in the morning, Betsy would need to run back upstairs for something she'd forgotten. There was no place to hide.

Each day as we drove to work, Betsy and I were very quiet. The tension was almost physical. Then one day, three weeks later, we were halfway there, about fifteen minutes driving time left. She turned her body on the seat to face me and asked;

"How long has it been happening?" I didn't answer.

"Please! How long?"

I glanced at her. "Months."

"Have you been doing it a lot?" Almost a whisper. I looked at her. Her face was drawn, pained, as if the single word I'd uttered had hurt her. I answered, hurting her more with each word.

"Every day. Every way. You name it. We've done it. Before you came, I was sleeping in her bed every night."

"How did it ever start?" She pulled her legs up on the seat and folded them underneath herself, turning to face me. "I mean how did it ever happen? She's your mother."

"Yes, and I am her posession. She marked me when I was five years old by giving me an oral orgasm. Deep in my soul, I never forgot how wonderful it felt and from that point on I have always wanted her sexually."

She shifted slightly on the seat, her knees seemed to squeeze together several times. Is she getting sexually excited, I wondered? "How did it all start?" She asked, sounding a bit breathless.

"It was the backrubs I gave her. They gave us an excuse for me to begin touching her physically in a way we could tell ourselves was harmless. In the beginning I didn't understand why I wanted so desperately to touch her, caress her. The touching during the backrubs opened the door and our long surpressed desire for each other filled both of us. It had been there all along, hidden. Now we both understood what the feeling was and knew what we wanted to happen between us.

It started so innocently. One night she asked me for a backrub. It was the Saturday after you visited us and we went for the ride. She had just come from the shower and was wrapped in a towel. She was sitting on her bed."

I paused, remembering. "I know how to give a very sexy backrub. It's all about tantalizing the person's skin with tickling, scratching and squeezing. That night it was only the backrub, but something exciting was going to happen and we both wanted it.

The next week was the first sexual contact. By the middle of the backrub, she had gotten so hot she let masturbate her from behind." Stopping, I looked at Betsy. Her eyes were large and round, her face flushed.

"What happened next?" She asked even more breathlessly.

"We tried to fight it but the need just overwhelmed us anyway. The longer we went without touching, the more fiercely we wanted to. Finally after six or seven weeks she invited me to give her another backrub, but it was really an invitation to get me in her bed and our hands on each other. We forgot all about the backrub in ten minutes.

That night I rolled her over onto her back for the first time, got her legs open and licked her to orgasm just like she had done to me as a child. It was glorius." Betsy had drawn a sharp breath as I finished. Her cheeks were flushed bright red.

We arrived at work. She went directly to the ladies room. The day passed in a blur. I was definitely off speed. I told people I wasn't feeling well.

In the privacy of the car, driving home, Betsy asked for more. "So after the oral sex, what?"

"Well, the night of the third backrub, the oral sex one, we slept together and the next morning since we were already naked and in bed together, we decided it would be all right to do a little more. Just that one last time. She decided to give me a rub. Since I was on my back, she just pulled the sheet down and did my chest, arms and face, you know, tickling and teasing." I stopped to think.

"After a while she started rubbing lower and lower. Next thing I knew she was stroking me. I was hard as a rock too. We ended up with me coming like that. It was very, very nice." I finished.

"Sounds like it was." She breathed, perched there leaning against the door facing me. "So go on. Still nothing like I saw that morning."

"That came a little later. This time we could only manage to hold out for six days. You've seen those tee shirts she wears. Her nipples stick so far out you can't help but look at them. And lots of times she doesn't wear underwear and she teased me by flashing her butt. It absolutely drove me crazy with desire. Finally, one night on the couch, my arm was around her and I just had to slide my hand onto her breast and squeeze and touch her nipple." She grabbed my hand and pressed it against herself. We kissed, and she whispered.

"Well, maybe we can do it just once more."

"The next morning she woke me up 'nice'."

"What do you mean 'nice'?"

"When I woke up she was sitting on the bed next to me. Her hand was under the sheet, squeezing me. I was hard. Then, after I was fully awake, she pretended to be my mommy, helping me stop being bad and bent over and took me in her mouth." I breathed deeply, remembering the blissfull sensations. I came like never before."

"That night we actually fucked for the first time. We've been sleeping together ever since, until you came." She looked me in the eye.

"Do you wish I'd leave so you could go back to her bed?" She asked quietly.

The thought that Betsy might leave horrified me.

"Don't even think about that. I want you to stay! I've been so confused since you caught us together. I don't quite understand how I feel but if you were gone I know I'd feel terribly empty inside." Her eyes were drawing the words out of my soul. "God help me but I want you both... need you both desperately."

She didn't respond, just looked at me with those eyes whose depths threatened to drown me. Finally, she looked away and I fell back to reality. I could feel her thoughts churning as she sat silently next to me.

The drive to work the next morning, after a less-tense evening at home was interesting, to say the least. Betsy perched herself against the door, body turned to face me as I drove. Then she said. "Could you ever think about me the way you think about her? I mean, sexually?" Her question burst into the silence of the car, filling it with vibrating molecules of air as the words reverberated in my head. My soul screamed OH YES! But I was so surprised, I wasn't able to answer immediately. I looked at her, stricken. She went on. "I mean, after all the fun we've had, and... the way you look at me, I was thinking you... liked me... and wanted to... and I knew it wasn't quite proper but I just didn't care. I hoped... and then I saw you and her... and it really hurt me..." She stopped, gasping a little, looking at me, more discouraged as my silence lengthened. She thought I was about to say 'no'.

It was just too much. My heart racing, I put the directional signal on, slowed the car and eased off onto the apron of the superhighway and stopped the car. Next to us five lanes of rush hour traffic streamed past, vibrating the air and rocking us as each vehicle in the nearest lane passed.

Reaching to her, I rested my hand on hers. "Listen to me Betsy. You don't understand. Because of mom, and the secret of what's been happening between us, I've pushed my feelings for you back, tried to repress them. I was wrong! They're too strong to deny. I was afraid to admit to myself how desperately I needed to hold you in my arms, kiss you, lay beside you in the night, make you mine. Finally, after yesterday, I let myself think about you for the first time without everything else confusing me. At once, amazingly, it was so simple, so clear; what I'm feeling is love."

I drew a breath, sat silently for a second or two, then kept going, letting it all flow out of me. "You have filled me with your self. It's the way you carry yourself. Your manner. Your eyes speak to me in a way my heart naturally understands. It's us having fun talking about things and it's how you see things I don't. I love you for that because it makes us both fuller. It's in the way you look at me. The things you like, I like. There's so much I don't know about you... that I'll be thrilled to learn. Betsy, I swear, you weren't wrong. All we have to do to make it happen is admit that it's true."

She flew across the seat into my arms. I hugged her. Her fingers touched my lips. They were trembling. Tears snuck out of the corners of her eyes. "Tory! Is it all true? I was sure you hated me." Her voice choked off. New tears welled. "I'm so happy!" She threw her arms around me and hugged me. "Is this really happening? Is it true? Do you really love me?"

"From the first moment I saw you. I knew you were the one. It's all as natural as sun and rain." I shrugged, lost for words to describe my feelings. She got quiet all of a sudden, her face grew troubled. After a few minutes she whispered. "But what about Pat?"

Yes, what about Pat. My mother. My lover. The woman I needed to keep in my life. Minutes passed. Traffic flowed past us, the stream diminishing a bit. I struggled for words. I began to try to explain.

"The way you make me feel is different. Okay yes, she and I have a sexual relationship I could never give it up because she is me. Do you understand that a little? If I did, I'd be gone too and someone else would be there in my shell." I looked at her, hoping my words had some kind of meaning for her.

"You aren't me." I tried again. "But you do complete me, like a key and a lock, neither is anything without the other. When you asked me if I could ever think about you sexually, the answer is yes. But with you I sense there can be so much more. We can share, learn, grow, build a future. We can have a family, a dog or a cat if we want. But she has to come with us. Like I said, she is me until the day one of us dies, and I can't change it."

She was silent. Pondering my words. Outside, the rush hour was winding down. I looked at my watch. We were late. Finally she stirred, "I think I understand a little." and hugged me tighter. We drove the rest of the way to work in silence, each of us thinking about those minutes there on the apron of route 685.

That night, on the way home from work, she took charge of our destiny. The first thing she did was slide over right next to me on the seat as soon as the parking lot was behind us.

"Do you remember the first day I came to live with you?" She whispered. "We were talking in the kitchen about getting a job and you asked, 'What do you like to do?" I nodded that I remembered.

"I knew what you were really asking."

"I knew you did." I smiled at the memory. She put her mouth to my ear.

"There's something I want you to see. After we get home tonight, I'm going up to my room to change. Follow me up as soon as you can."

I held my breath as a charge of excitement flashed through me. I looked at her sitting there next to me, so beautful, so in love with me. Her hand brushing the hairs of my arm. It's really going to happen between us, I realized, thrilled.