A Mom's Night to Remember

I'm in my mid 40s, divorced, and trying desperately to hold on to everything that matters in an increasingly weird world. It hasn't been the easiest time for me--divorces are always hard, but mine seemed like a bottomless pit of anxiety and frustration. I won't use my ex's real name (or any others), but I wish I could, if only to tell you what an unreasonable and petty person he is. Let's call him "Drew" in this story...thankfully he'll only be a very small part.

Our marriage never quite fired on all cylinders, but the last few years were even worse, having promised each other to stay together until our daughter--let's call her "Katie"--went off to college. We managed to make it that far, but not by much, and the minute Katie slammed the hatchback door to head away to school, the lawyers descended to make everything even more unmanageable and depressing. A constant reminder of what I considered my own personal failings.

Drew and I did make an effort. Even after we parted ways, not wanting to continue the nonstop arguing and antagonizing that were the hallmarks of our relationship, for the sake of Katie. Just because our marriage showed signs of rot didn't mean we loved Katie any less, and to be fair, Drew was an excellent father (although it pains me to admit). We tried. We still try. It's not always easy.

A summer ago, the summer after Katie's Junior year, the whole world was hiding under a blanket for fear of the horrid coronavirus, and we were no different. I felt awful that Katie's college experience would be ruined by whatever was in store for us. Not the best of times.

I got custody of our modest home in the settlement, and the lovely pool in the backyard that came with it, so hey--if you're going to be sequestered, might as well do it on a chaise lounge, with margaritas and some decent iPhone speakers. Katie and two of her friends, as well as her boyfriend "Danny" and his best friend, made our backyard their safe "bubble." Their summer home base away from the rest of the world I was happy knowing they were close by, considering the state of the world. It felt better than worrying about the 21st century plague every minute of the day, at any rate. And I always liked hearing their laughs from inside.

Some time in July, after a depressingly low-fi independence day celebration of pizza and sparklers, Drew invited me out to dinner at an open air place, which actually sounded like something I needed at that moment. We tried to maintain some sort of civil dialogue, and a dinner out every now and then was how we decided to stay close enough for Katie to feel like she still had two parents. Having been cooped up for months, I admit I was looking forward to a nice night of alfresco dining.

At around 8:00 PM on a Friday, I left Katie alone with her charming and doting boyfriend, which was pretty common that summer. She was 20, as was Danny, and they were a lovely couple--mature and easygoing. I was excited to actually have something to get dressed up for, and so I left the house with a spring in my step, for a change. A night on the town, or at least something close to it, awaited.

Leave it to Drew to completely shit on a potentially lovely evening. From the moment I arrived at the restaurant and gave him a cool but cordial hug, he was in rare form, questioning my parenting skills, arguing about money, and generally being condescending, which was actually completely on-brand. What was scheduled for a three-hour night out lasted about as long as it took for me to chug my pinot grigio, which disappeared in a matter of seconds. No dinner. I looked at my watch and wanted to cry. I could barely be in the same room with someone I spent 18 years married to for more than 55 minutes. (I remember the exact timing, because it struck me that I had lost the ability to fake civility for even an hour). I'm sure he has his side of the story, but to hell with him, he can write his own version if he chooses. This is mine.

Still vibrating from my collision with Drew, I stomped on the gas of my Cherokee and made it back home in maybe 15 minutes, which was a feat since I always remembered it as a 20+ minute drive. I was so upset I could scream. Or maybe I'd open another bottle of wine and do some damage of my own, all alone. Or, then again, more likely, I'd just shed my bra, throw on a tank and shorts, pull the blankets up to my chin with the air conditioner cranked, and try to forget the night ever happened.

When I walked to the front door from my car, I remember noticing Katie's light wasn't on. Odd. Not even 9:30, it was too early for her to be asleep, and Danny's car was still in the driveway. Oh well, maybe they were watching tv in the basement, who cared? I was still so upset by my experience at dinner, the mystery of it all was the last thing on my mind.

When I got to my bedroom, there was just enough light filtering in for me to peel off my "nice" clothes, and slither into a comfy cotton tank that had seen way too many washings, and a pair of soft terry cloth running shorts without flicking the light on. As I was about to, I heard an odd noise from outside. My room was directly over the pool near the shallow end, and--ok, what the hell was that noise?

I took the few steps over to the window and looked out. At first, what I saw didn't remotely register. It seemed like my brain was trying to tell me I wasn't seeing what I was actually seeing. It was the strangest feeling I have ever felt, and I still sometimes randomly react to the memory with a jolt, even nearly a year later.

With no light on in my room, my eyes required no adjustment to the dark outside, which was actually more illuminated than my home, surreally aglow from the underlighting in the pool water. My fingers are actually shaking a bit as I prepare to type what I know I am about to type.

Danny was sitting on the edge of the pool with his long, muscular legs dangling in the water. Katie was in the water facing Danny, leaning in, her head slowly bobbing in an easy, gentle rhythm.

Before I even fully realized what was happening, I was standing, mouth agape in my dark bedroom, watching my daughter perform oral sex on her extremely attractive--and now, I just realized, incredibly well endowed, boyfriend. My redlining mom meter seemed to tell me that I should be furious--take action, stomp out there and end this! But I couldn't. And I didn't. I kept watching, and I couldn't make myself look away.

After the emotional meltdown of my cancelled dinner, staring out that window--I can't explain it. I was angry, confused, wired, and as I watched Danny sigh again and again--so deeply jealous. Even in the moment, I could hear my brain saying "stop." Stop watching, stop staring, stop feeling the warm shiver that kept hitting me as more of the flesh of his wet erection came into, and then disappeared from, my view. I couldn't contain the irrational searing jealousy I felt for Katie in that moment--jealous that she was young with her life ahead of her, that she had someone strikingly handsome who loved her, that she could still feel....this...any time she wanted to feel it.

I'm not proud of this, but I admit it--I became very aroused. The barrier of the window notwithstanding, I wasn't more than 20 feet from Danny and Katie. I could see their chests breathing and heaving raggedly, the way his almost vulgarly thick shaft slid into her mouth a bit too easily and too deeply, the way his fingers moved through her hair to encourage her.

In the moments she rose to kiss his chest or whisper to him, I could plainly see that Katie was topless, and Danny responded at times by sensually caressing the glossy wet flesh of her breasts. My own nipples stiffened and tingled watching his hand and fingers move expertly, almost as if he were touching me. My god I was jealous, and I realized I had slipped my hand inside my shorts as I watched.

It seemed at once like an eternity or just a few seconds, but in reality I probably watched for less than ten minutes when my own experience began to read Danny's body language. He was close. And I could tell Katie knew also, as her motions became more urgent, using her hand and mouth at the same time--fast, then slow, then fast again. I know I shouldn't admit this, but I felt proud. And on fire. And I could feel my own heart pounding and climax building as my own touch matched the intensity of theirs.

I could hear Danny's low, sensual grunts as he let go, his thick shaft spasming in Katie's mouth again and again. It made me ache to watch how lovingly he feathered her wet hair when she finally looked up at him again. It was...perfect. He was perfect.

I could never possibly guess as to how many times I have replayed that night (post-dinner, of course) in my mind--in bed, in a bath or shower, or even, when I was sure of my own privacy, in the pool exactly where they were. And I am still so very, very jealous.