Chapter 14

We didn't spend our entire honeymoon on the waterbed. We also found time for concerts, museums, long walks, and food from around the world. We did Manhattan.

We'd heard so much about street crime there, but had no problems. As irony would have it, right after we returned to Denver I got mugged.

My high school and the one next to it had a constant feud going. My school was in a middle-class neighborhood and was named after a US president. The other school was in a poor neighborhood and was named Manual Arts, as if the kids there could only work with their hands. They knew what their chances were in life, so many of them were bitter and had chips on their shoulders. If we came into their turf, they might beat us up. They usually beat us in football too. These were the only times in their lives they would have more power than we did.

I didn't know them, didn't like them; they felt the same way about me. The idea that we were divided into these separate neighborhoods and schools so we wouldn't get to know and like one another and work together for change never occurred to me, until Diana explained it later. It probably occurred to some of them, but they couldn't do anything about it. Except beat me up.

Four of them surrounded me as I was coming home from a friend's one evening. They shoved me in the chest and bounced me back and forth among them like a basketball, then pinned my arms behind by back, hit me in the face, and took my money, three dollars. I staggered home, scared, hurt, humiliated.

I hadn't cried, but as soon as I saw mom I burst into tears and told her the story. She knew exactly what I needed. Sitting on the couch, she stroked my sobs away, opened her blouse, and gave me her breasts. I nuzzled and sucked and snuffled there while she patted my head and whispered calm words of comfort. Her soothing balm rose from within and flowed into me through those nipples that had once kept me alive and now were easing the pain and trauma away. As I got hard, my strength and self-respect returned. I was a man again, and she reacted to me as that, lying back and letting me take charge. I took the rest of her clothes off, gazed gratefully at her naked splendor, and skinnied out of my jeans.

Mom gave my erection an awed, almost fearful look and turned away a little, as if to protect herself. I put my hand on her to claim her. Pulling her legs gently apart, I could see the desire drops shining on her labia. Her pelvis canted up in surrender. Her mouth was open, eyes closed, waiting. With a gasp of gratitude I entered her and my troubles were over.

This woman knew how to heal.

But she didn't take any crap either. If I slacked off on chores, made a mess, or left dirty dishes, she became the dominant one and showed me her power. Once I carelessly washed my red sweatshirt with her laundry on hot and turned her clothes pink. Diana was righteously pissed.

Without saying a word, she pulled off my clothes, pushed me face down on the bed, and spanked my bottom. Her open hand made loud, stinging smacks on my buns and thighs, turning my rear end hot and red, almost hitting my scrotum. While spanking me, mom took off her own clothes. She rolled me over, sat on top of me, and drilled me right in the eye with a stern, no-nonsense stare. I felt very little but my rod was very big. She slid her crotch back and forth over it, then rose up and worked herself down onto it, her thick russet hair splashing across her breasts. When my pole was all the way in, she straddled me with her hips and rode me domineeringly until we both came. I had been duly punished.

Whenever I needed discipline, she ran some variation on this theme, and it always brought me back into line.

Our relationship couldn't be all bliss—it was too complex. The husband-wife and child-parent roles sometimes clashed, and we'd fall apart in confusion. But most of the time things went smoothly. When problems did come up, we'd talk them over and try to change. Even if we were angry, we could always communicate.

Since we'd gotten rid of so much psychological and physical frustration, we both had more energy now. We were so fulfilled that we didn't have much need of distractions. Compared to what we did with each other, most entertainment and socializing seemed just silly. Since there are limits on how often one can do it, we had lots of time left to work.

Diana became such a skilled defense attorney that she regularly got offers from private firms, but she declined them, saying she liked poor crooks better than rich crooks. She also became the co-director of Lawyers for Peace, doing what she could to ban war and the manufacture of weapons.

Although I was a bit of a loner at school, I had some good friends, more girls than boys, actually. Maybe the girls liked me because I didn't hit on them. There was a lot of peer pressure to go to school dances. I discovered if I went with a different girl each time, they didn't get romantic ideas and mom didn't get jealous.

I really got into learning. Every subject had its own fascination now, and I could focus on it without difficulty. I discovered that thinking was fun. Since mom and I had overthrown the rules and found them to be a sham, I began to see that many of the assumptions that run people's lives are nonsense, so I particularly enjoyed challenging the conventional beliefs about an issue. I wasn't always popular with the teachers, but my grades were high.

I could've gotten into an Ivy League school but decided on the University of Colorado, mom's alma mater. They gave me a good scholarship, but I actually took it to be close to her. I came home on the weekends, riding the bus an hour on the Boulder turnpike, bringing my dirty clothes and clean cock back to get washed.