Chapter 22

Session C8:

“Tell me what the article is about, Richard.”

“It said that...”

There was a pause, and for a moment I thought he was going to wake up. That would be awkward - I didn’t really want to implant a memory of me getting him to randomly read a sexuality textbook.

Fortunately, the hesitation passed, and he answered in a deep monotone that I was getting increasingly familiar with.

“ ... it said that the subject’s happiness is increased when they have sexual intercourse more than twice each week.”

Richard is some kind of professor, so it doesn’t surprise me that he stated it more formally than my mother had. I was hoping that his academic background would also mean that he paid more heed to studies like the one I’d just had him read, but it could have gone either way.

Only one way to find out.

“Do you agree with those findings?” I asked, after getting him to hand the book back.

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

“Why?”

“The data is there, plus ... well, it makes sense.”

Great.

“Do you have sex more than twice each week, Richard?”

“Thanks so much for that - I don’t really know why it helps, but it does.”

Fuck. Eight sessions in and this was the first time I’d accidentally woken him up early. It was my own fault, of course, but still - I’d gotten so good at this.

At least I’d finally found something I could use.

Session A64:

“Would you tell me why you don’t like talking about sex with your children?”

“No.”

I was sure that answering that question would unlock a lot of doors.

“Would you ... would you tell Lucy why you don’t like talking about sex with your children?”

“No.”

“Would you tell Marcie?”

“No.”

Made sense. Luce and Mom are close, but they aren’t exactly giggling besties and I had already established that for whatever reason, Mom didn’t like Marcie

“Would you tell me if there’s anyone you would tell the reason you don’t like talking about sex with your children to?”

Whew. What a mouthful. But she answered straight away.

“Yes.”

“Is there anyone you would tell the reason you don’t like talking about sex with your children?”

“Yes.”

“Would you tell me who?”

“Yes.”

“Who would you tell the reason you don’t like talking about sex with your children?”

“Other parents.”

Interesting.

Not, of course, that there was anything I could particularly do with that. But it was definitely interesting.

I wanted to fuck my mother. Believe me, if you met her, you’d understand. And if you’d seen her the way I had - doing laundry in her panties and a tight T-shirt, watching TV in a sexy teddy that I’d ordered online and added to her wardrobe ... you’d want to fuck her too.

But right now, that wasn’t the priority. Right now, I wanted her to be okay with me and Lucy fucking. Or at least ... not notice.

“Okay,” I said. “You want to avoid talking about sex with your children, right?”

“Yes.”

“So if you walked in on one of your children having sex...”

I paused, but Mom showed no signs of waking up.

“ ... you would have to talk to them about it, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You want to avoid walking in on your children having sex, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“So if they’re in a room with the door closed, what will you do?”

“Knock before I come in.”

Damn. I mean, that was obviously better, but what I really wanted was for her to avoid the door entirely. If - fingers crossed - I managed to get Lucy in bed in the next week, I wanted to make sure that Mom wasn’t going to knock and ruin everything. I wanted Mom to stay away.

Well, honestly, I wanted Mom to join in ... but I wasn’t there yet, I knew that.

“Okay,” I said after a moment’s thought. “You want your children to be happy, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And your children will be happier if they’re having sex three or more times each week, won’t they?”

“Yes.”

“If your children have their door closed, they might be having sex. Right?”

“Yes.”

Bit of a pause, but we got there.

“If you knock, they’re going to stop having sex, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

A longer pause that time, but nothing worth worrying about.

“So if you knock on your children’s closed doors, you might be stopping them from having sex. Right?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re knocking on your children’s doors, you’re stopping them from being happy. Is that correct?”

This time, a significantly longer pause, but it wasn’t long before the answer came through clearly.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to stop your children from being happy?”

“No.”

“What will you do if your children’s bedroom doors are closed?”

“Nothing.”

“Will you knock on the doors of your children’s bedrooms if they’re closed?”

“No.”

Good. Now, of course, I just had to see if the change in attitude transferred to real life.

Session A171:

“What does it mean if your children’s bedroom door is closed?”

“They’re having sex.”

“And what will you do if your children’s bedroom doors are closed?”

“Press my ear up against it.”

“Why?”

“In the hope that I...”

There was a long pause, but I’d learned a while ago that with Mom, I just had to push through it.

“ ... in the hope that I can hear them.”

Session A64:

I considered waking her up, but I had a few more minutes on the clock, and one last thing I wanted to check.

“It’s important that your children are happy, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

It could be argued that I was over-relying on the one theme, but ... well, it was so effective. Maybe because it’s such a primal urge, or maybe because it’s something that’s always on a single mother’s mind, or maybe just because of the way Mom is built, but starting from a point of “your children’s happiness” was just so reliable.