I woke up the next morning with serious "wine breath". I was in my bed and staring at the ceiling. I glanced out my open bedroom window and saw not a single tree branch or leaf was moving—it was another hot, sweltering day.
I had overslept, as it was almost 11:23 in the morning. My sheet was curled up next to me, apparently I had pushed it as far away as I could in my sleep due to the tremendous heat. I really needed to get an air conditioner in my room. It usually isn't this hot where I live, but the past few weeks have just been a living hell of heat.
I sat up rubbing my eye crispies out and clearing my dry throat. I felt like a hot mess, I smelled of sweat, my hair was greasy and gross, my skin felt slimy from perspiring so much. I sat up and pulled my shorts on—I sleep in my panties and a T-shirt. Usually I throw on a summer robe so Sam won't see my cans, but I figured there was no point in covering up now?
Then it hit me. I was reminded of what I had done. Sam watched my movie last night! He has now seen me naked and doing the most private of things. How I was going to face him I had no idea; I actually stopped by my door and listened to see if he was up. I didn't hear anything. I was like a child not wanting to face their parent after having done some naughty thing. After awhile I realized there was no hiding from this and that I was going to have to go out and face the music. So I collected myself and went out to the kitchen. I decided I would have to be the adult here and act as if everything was perfectly normal. That's right it was perfectly normal for a stepmom to give her stepson a video of her lusting after his body then masturbating naked while crying out his name—it happens all the time!
I was totally relieved to see no sign of Sam. I started making my morning (or late afternoon) coffee when Sam spoke up behind me.
I actually screamed. I'm not proud of it, but I did. He laughed.
"I'm sorry, I thought you saw me." He said.
"No, I didn't think you were here."
I looked at him; he had obviously showered already and was clean and dressed. Although not really dressed, he was wearing his khaki shorts and nothing else. It was very unusual for Sam to walk around shirtless, he was too shy for that, but I think he was starting to get used to the idea of nudity in our household. I'm not complaining, mind you, it's just unusual and I think my video more than anything else was the cause.
"I asked if you had a good sleep?" He said.
"Oh, yeah—a little too good, I guess I overslept. How about you?"
"Slept like a champ!" he said and he was smiling a little too much and had a tone in his voice that was a little too playful.
"It's supposed to rain later, do you think we should mow the lawn? It's getting pretty deep out there. I figured you could do half and then I'll do the other half?" I said.
"I'll do all of it." He told me with determination and that silly grin.
"No, it's too hot out. Just do a little and come in, it's not worth getting overheated."
"I've been overheated for awhile. In fact, I'm about to explode! Mowing a little grass isn't going to affect me." He said.
Okay, so we had managed not to talk about the movie, but it was clearly on his mind. That smile said it all. At that point I felt like Dr. Frankenstein experiencing his 'What have I done' moment.
I turned and faced him. I was leaning against the kitchen counter and he was leaning against the far wall. He was magnificent standing in front of me proudly displaying his body to me with his arms folded in front of him accentuating his biceps—which seemed much bigger than they had only a short while ago, I wondered if he had been working out.
We looked at each other for a long instant; I think we both wondered who would be the first to mention the giant elephant and how. I knew it wasn't going to be me.
I turned and pretended to be doing something with my coffee cup when he spoke.
"So I watched your movie last night."
That statement hung in the air for a least a thousand years before I found the courage to respond.
"Oh?" I said.
"I, uh . . . REALLY enjoyed it." He said and I spun around to face him. He looked away, but his smile was broader than I have ever seen it.
I didn't know what to say. I felt like a microbe under a Scientists microscope just praying he didn't decide to look too closely.
Panic sweat began to mix with actual sweat and I could feel the heat of my cheeks burning outwardly.
"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it, but that was a one time thing, Sam. I probably shouldn't even have done it. I wasn't thinking clearly." I said and I was really disappointed to hear me say that. And I mean it that way—I felt as if I hadn't said it, instead it just came out of my mouth and I was as sad to hear it as Sam was. I saw his smile disappear.
"Oh, don't say that. Please. That was the most wonderful thing I have ever seen."
Now he stopped being smug and became very sincere.
"I loved every second of it. And I want to see more. A lot more." He said.
"Sam . . . I just don't think . . ." I couldn't finish. I didn't know how to finish.
He walked over to me—very close to me—and he put his hand on my cheek.
"I love you." He said in the sweetest way possible. His eyes pierced through mine trying to find my soul and I felt as if my soul was running away and trying to hide from his intense gaze.
"I love you." He said again. "And I want to make love to you."
I almost collapsed.
"I know that sounds super-corny, but I really do. And now I know you feel the same way about me. I see how you look at me, and your movie proved you watch me. And I love having you watch me. Everything I do is for you. All the nudity and sex stuff, the movies, the gay stuff with Tom, ALL of it is for you. I want you to enjoy seeing me do things for you. I want to do things for you, I want to please you." He said placing his other hand on my other cheek. He now had both hands on either side of my face and he was slowly advancing. I glanced down quickly and saw the protuberance in his shorts, then I looked back at his eyes and they were more determined than ever before. He moved into to kiss me.
I gently placed my hand on his bare chest and stopped him.
"Sam, I can't. This isn't right. I shouldn't have tortured you like I have been. I feel terrible about it, but we can't do this." I said.
"Why?" he pulled back but I kept my hand on his chest feeling his heart beating like a drum, his skin moist with sweat.
"Everything that has gone on here lately has been great and very satisfying in a sexual way. We both needed that release. But you're young and you should have someone your own age."
"You're only 10 years-older than me. So what! I am making lots of money with the website and I can support you now. That's all I've ever wanted is to live here with you, support you, and to give you the kind of love and attention you deserve. How can that be wrong?"
I put my hands on his face now, "Honey, it's not wrong it's beautiful. But you need to go out and live your own life and not let me hold you back. That's all. I want you to have the best life can offer."
"You are the best life has to offer." He said and I almost melted.
"I'm sorry. But it just can't be us." I said with finality.
"That's stupid." He said and now he was angry. "You're just afraid. That's all it is, is fear. I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of walking around wishing for things. I want you and I will have you, because I know you want me too, you're just too afraid to say it. We are perfect for each other. I understand why you're trying to let me have my own life, but I don't want my own life—I want a life with you." He said and he stormed off. He tried to open the screen door to the backyard but it had swelled from the humidity and stuck, Sam struggled with it then went out into the stagnant day.
I was devastated. I cried into my coffee while trying to justify to myself that what I was doing the right thing; Sam was ultimately a kid and he needed to make his own way without me, I was sure of that. That knowledge didn't stop me from crying all through breakfast, though. Then I wept all through my shower and I even "teared up" in the bank while I was running errands later that day.
I quickly left the bank and sat in the car blowing my nose and wiping my eyes. I looked at myself in the mirror checking to see how I looked—it wasn't good!
The car was stifling, it was so hot outside that sitting in a closed car with the windows up and the air off wasn't a great plan, but I didn't care. I was an emotional mess; I couldn't stop thinking about Sam—about how playful he was when I woke up, how he was ready for fun and then I destroyed him. I felt like the worst cock-tease on the planet and I hate women who do that, it's so unfair. I just kept picturing that look on Sam's face; he looked liked a wounded puppy and that's pretty much what he was. He was a wide-eyed innocent and didn't understand I was being harsh for his own good.
But then again, 'was I being harsh for his own good, or for mine?'
I started to really think about it and I suddenly realized I had made a terrible mistake. What the hell did I know whether or not Sam and I could be together? I spent my entire life making the wrong choices with men, including Sam's father; he was a dick and I knew he was a dick when I met him. Just like I know that Sam is an incredibly decent and good-hearted soul. Maybe that was what I was so afraid of. Not that Sam was wrong, but that he was so right. Maybe I was afraid of finally finding the right guy.
Maybe is the right guy for me and I am the right woman for him—why not?
The whole world is crazy so maybe crazy is the right choice!