3: Dominus Domina.
The half moon sat artfully in the night sky casting its pale light into my room as I lay on my bed staring up at the shadows it cast.
Both my hands were gently stroking either side of my sex as the events of the day fed my imagination and played out over and over in my head as I closed my eyes breathing deeply of the sensations flowing through me.
A stray finger rubbed my still deliciously sore pussy that I had flushed clean when I got home earlier and my thoughts turned back to him.
After we left the motel, he drove me home and pulled up a few yards from my house.
We didn't talk much. Both of us dealing with our emotions in our own way and still coming to terms with the beginnings of our relationship. I undid the seat belt and reached for the door.
"Jen, I uh," he started to say but I quickly put a finger to his lips.
I squeezed his hand. "Shhhhhh, I'm fine. That was wonderful. Everything was perfect. Go to work. I'll see you tomorrow."
He nodded as I got out and I stood to watch as he drove away.
*
The sex had been wonderful.
Not like I had imagined it to be at all. Each fuck had stripped away the foundations of who I considered myself to be. That I was, at heart, a passion flower of faith, love, and devotion to him. "The one" seemed an age ago.
Was he the one?
I turned my head to stare at the half moon looking at me through my window. He was enough. Enough for me. I sighed and stretched lazily on the bed enjoying the languid ache of every muscle as I remembered all the things we did in the motel.
But one thing flickered more brightly than all others. And it was that thing which called to my true nature.
*
Wednesday dawned with the sound of birdsong outside singing to me and the sun rising brightly in an early morning haze.
It had just gone eight when I finally got out of bed and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. I was wearing a white dressing gown as I flopped down into the chair and rested my head on folded arms.
Mom was quietly sitting on the other side of the table with a cup of coffee steaming in front of her.
"Mornin' sleepy head," she said taking a sip.
My eyes were closed and I just smiled a "Hmmmmmmmmmm." in response.
"I think we need to have a talk."
She then put a small box on the table between us.
I slowly opened my eyes and froze.
Uh oh.
*
My mom is nothing if not practical. She is the backbone of the family. A port for any ship in a storm. Calm in the face of adversity and so on.
She was also insanely protective of me. As I had grown older, she had become much more aware of the attention I was beginning to attract wherever I went.
And now, all these years later, here we were. The big mom daughter talk.
"Have you slept with him?" she asked, getting straight to the heart of the matter. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.
Unable to look at her, I sat back, fiddling with the belt of my gown. I could hardly think straight as my heart rattled around inside of me. I bit my lip and nodded.
"Yes," I whispered. I glanced up and saw her nod her head and slowly breathe out. "I'm ah uh sorry, mom."
She sat looking at me for what felt an age but then she surprised me as she put her cup of coffee down on the table.
She shook her head. "There is nothing to be sorry about, sweetie. You're eighteen. A grown woman. The decisions you make are your own now. You have to do what you feel is right for you. Your dad and I can only offer you the benefit of our experience that's all."
She picked up the box. "At least you're sensible enough to take precautions."
I could feel tears welling up as I sat there trying to keep my emotions in check. "I know," I sniffed, "I wanted to say something but I,"
She reached across the table and laid a hand on my arm. "Listen, I'm not just your mother. I'm your best friend. We should be able to talk about anything you and me. Anything. If you're unsure about something or have a problem come talk to ME."
"I will," I took a deep breath, "I promise. But uh dad. What about dad?" Geez, Dad would ground me for a year and a day if he found out.
"Leave your dad to me. He doesn't need to know about this until he absolutely has to know. This is between you and me. Our secret. So don't worry."
She frowned slightly. "He didn't pressure you did he?"
Surprised she could even think that, I shook my head firmly. "NO, no. NO. He would never do that. He's nice and kind. You'd like him a lot. I know I do," I blushed thinking I'd said too much.
"Do you love him?"
"Um," I started to say, "I think I do."
"Does he love you?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"How do you know?"
"Because he wrote it down." Oh heck. That sounded so pathetically cheesy.
Mom nodded solemnly trying to hide a smile. "Okay, I guess that's something at least," she said, "Did you like it?"
I looked up in total surprise. What? What did she just say?
She took another sip of her coffee, staring at me over the rim of her cup. "I asked you if you had enjoyed it. I take it that was your first time?"
Was mom asking me about what we did?
"Wuh, well, uh kind of. I guess. Yeah." Geez, what sort of answer was that?
"Good, that's good." she mused.