The Mother Tracie Deserves

NOT NORMAL

I would have preferred it hadn't, but the sun rose the next morning. When I woke up, I realized I was still in my stupid Eighties aerobics costume. My next thought was of the flask I'd confiscated from the boys at the party. As soon as I tried to move in my bed, I felt the hangover.

I started to cry.

Terrible flashes from the night before lit up in my memory, and I cried harder. How much worse could I have possibly failed?

I had failed to stay sober, and if that was all, I could have dealt with it. But worse, I had failed horribly

as a mother.

The roller coaster had flown off the rails and gone up in flames. All hope for a happy, even halfway normal relationship with Tracie was now definitely gone. Without that, what did I have to live for?

I couldn't get out of my head the sensations of eating my stepdaughter's pussy - my nose hissing angrily in her pubic hair; the heat on my cheeks from her black nylon thighs; my tongue pushing into her swollen, slick labia; the tight, wet grip of her canal on my fingers; her groans; the sloppy wet noises I made between her legs; her hand crushing a cupcake; the whimpers and taste of her coming in my mouth.

And worst of all, the memories aroused me.

All that Sunday, I simply hid in my room - in part, to recover from my hangover; but mostly, because I was too ashamed to show my face.

That night, even after spending the whole day in bed, I was weary enough to fall back asleep, wanting the escape from my thoughts. But there was no escape. I had an intense dream. I dreamt that I was in bed with Tracie, both of us completely nude, having excited, uninhibited sex. I was laying on her, face-to-face, humping her like a man would. My daughter was clinging to me, her arms and legs wrapped around me, pulling me to her. I was thrilled by the touch of her smooth, warm skin. I saw so clearly her eyes looking into mine - we were both loving it. In the dream, I felt as happy as I could be - no guilt at all. We both said how much we loved each other as I made intense love to my beautiful girl. I woke from the dream having an orgasm.

To tell you how confused I was, I laid in bed after coming from the dream, crying and wondering if I needed to go to a psychiatrist and get on some pills. But at the same time, I fingered myself and easily brought on a second climax.

The days that followed were grim. Tracie and I avoided each other entirely. No dinners together. I don't even know what my stepdaughter ate those days. I ate nothing. I couldn't. Not so much as hello. Not even any eye contact.

There was no longer any pretending that we could ever go back to being a normal family again, and that broke my heart. I loved Tracie just like any mother loves her child - she was my whole life. But what had happened between us over the previous year had now gone much too far to come back from.

I had destroyed everything. I couldn't blame anyone else for what I did at the Halloween party. And I couldn't just blame Tracie's blackmail for what I had done with her after the party. There was no one I could talk to about it. I had lost my daughter. I knew I was ruined - maybe insane.

I went through my days trying to appear like a normal person. But I was like a robot, following my programming even though I was without hope. I got up in the mornings, drove to work, did my job (to some degree), drove home, went to bed - and tried not to think.

I yearned to start drinking again, to deaden my mind and let everything go to hell - it was just as well if it did. The only thing keeping me from alcohol was fear: booze had led me to do what I did at the Halloween party. Only the devil could imagine what I might do if I got drunk again.

To add to my stress, things at work were suddenly not going well. There had been a big production problem, and we were in danger of losing several of our important clients. But I was at my least effective.

My boss was scared. He called me into his office to ask me why I had been so distracted and "out of it" when I should have been doubling my efforts.

All I could do was apologize for some "personal stuff" and promise to "get it together."

Of course, it was upsetting to get scolded by my boss, but work strife seemed so trivial compared to what was going on in my head, my heart, and my home.

Having nowhere else to go, I drove toward that broken home after work through a cold November rain. I stopped at the grocery store, partly as a way to delay returning to the house. Maybe I could still put together a basic meal, maybe eat some of it, even if the rest of my life had fallen apart.

In the produce section, I saw a nice-looking woman who appeared to be in her thirties. Alongside her, a little girl about eight years old was skipping and happily talking to her mom. It was cute how the girl was trying to help her mother shop. Not many years before, that had been Tracie and me.

Life had been so much simpler back then. Things had actually made some sense: I was married, mother to a darling young girl - I thought I had life pretty much figured out.

Now, as I stood there in the grocery store, I had to grab onto the edge of a fruit display to steady myself. I closed my eyes, swallowing back on emotion. I could practically feel little Tracie standing next to me, only as tall as my elbow, pulling my sleeve to ask for some candy.

How had the years flown by so fast? How had things gotten so screwed up?

At the grocery store checkout, I was surprised that the cashier was Emma Johnson, Tracie's friend and teammate.

"Hi, Ms. Gasparo," she said with a big smile.

I tried to act normal. "Oh, hi, Emma. I didn't know you worked here."

"Just started," she said. She dragged my items one by one across the beeping price scanner.

Emma gave me a curious glance. There was an awkward pause as I remembered she had been at the Halloween party.

She said, "Are you doing okay?"

I stretched my lips into not quite a smile. "Yeah..." I said, embarrassed.

"Can I tell you something?" she said, weighing my bananas on the checkout scale.

"Okay."

Emma leaned closer and said, "That was awesome what you did at the party. We all hate Raymond. We've been telling Tracie for years to forget about him."

I almost started crying. "Well, it wasn't my proudest moment. But thanks."

She said, "You're like our hero. He so deserved it. I hope you don't mind, but I told my mom, and she said 'Good for her.' She said, as a mom, she would probably do the same thing."

"Well... Thanks, I guess. Tracie's pretty mad at me."

"Don't worry," Emma said. "She's okay. She doesn't want to admit it, but you did her a favor. She's been alright at school and practice. A little down, maybe, but she's tough."

"I guess she is," I said. "I hope so."

"And she really loves you."

I looked up and Emma's eyes met mine. She nodded and said, "She does."

"I love her too." My voice was so soft I was mostly talking to myself. My damn brain reminded me,

You love your daughter so much, you come dreaming about sex with her.

Emma gave me a sincere smile and continued scanning my items. She was a pretty girl. I noticed under her cashier's vest, she had on a sweatshirt with the logo for State University. Her mother Jenny had told me during one of the girls' volleyball matches that Emma was going to State the next fall. Looking forward to starting college - what a nice, normal thing for a teenager and her family.

Watching Tracie's friend happily doing her after-school job, I felt very far away. I could hardly remember how regular moms and girls lived. At the end of her shift, would Emma go home and pull up her new college sweatshirt so her mother could feast on her young breasts? Of course not. Jenny and Emma were a normal mother and daughter. But me, I was unable to forget the taste - and how eagerly I had wolfed it down - when Tracie came in my mouth.

I swallowed hard, trying not to cry as Emma handed me my receipt.

She said, "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow. Tracie and I are doing the fundraiser together."

Barely hearing her words, I nodded. "Bye."

Emma said, "I'll say hi to my mom for you."

TOO NORMAL

Driving up our street, I chewed my lip, hoping my stepdaughter wouldn't be at the house. Getting closer, my heart sped up and a shiver went through me. I felt every bit what Tracie had called me: a coward.

When I saw our garage door was up, I knew she was home. She had a bad habit of leaving the house open like that after letting herself in after school. I would have reminded her again to be more careful, especially when she was home alone - but after days of avoiding each other, frankly, I was scared to talk to her.

I parked. As the cold rainwater dripped from my car onto the garage floor, I carried my purse and several bags of groceries into the house. I was startled that Tracie was standing right there in the kitchen, like she was waiting for me.

"Hi," she said. "Let me help with that stuff."

"Oh, uh, okay." I let her take a couple of the grocery bags from me. I swallowed nervously. My daughter and I hadn't spoken a word to each other since the party. What had changed?

She said, "Can I get a quick sniff?"

It made sense that she would start asking again. I opened my mouth and exhaled for her to check for alcohol.

"Good," she said. "Here, let me help you with your coat."

I quietly thanked her as she took it. I couldn't remember the last time, if ever, she'd done that for me.

She said, "Why don't we just make dinner easy tonight and get some pizza delivered or something? Or I could make some healthy smoothies?"

"Oh, um, sure..." I was starting to worry about what was happening. "I guess we can, uh, save this stuff for another day."

Tracie helped me put the groceries away. I noticed her hair and makeup were nicely done, and she was wearing a pretty smocked crop top with a short wrap skirt.

I was still shivering from the cold, rainy weather outside. I said, "Aren't you a little chilly in that outfit?"

She smiled and turned side to side, showing it off to me. "Do you remember buying this for me for Taryn's graduation party? You said it was both cute and a little sexy."

"Yeah, but that was last summer when it was hot. I forgot to wear a blazer to work today and I had goosebumps all day. Did you wear that to school?"

"No. I changed after I got home."

"Oh, okay... So, where are you going?" It would be a relief for her to go out with some friends. The last thing I needed was to have Tracie hanging around the house looking so attractive and acting weirdly sweet.

"Nowhere," she said. "Just here."

"Well make sure you take a coat. You don't want to catch- Oh. Staying here." So now I was more confused. But I was too nervous to keep asking questions. To end the conversation, I simply said, "You look cute."

"Thanks. And thanks for getting groceries. Was traffic bad on the way home from work? You need to use the bathroom or anything?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, needing an excuse to step away. "Yeah, I need the bathroom."

She said, "Alright. Well, as soon as you're done, come to my room, okay? I want to talk to you."

"Oh, um, yeah. Sure." I tried to hide my growing uneasiness as I started to walk off.

Tracie put her hand on my arm, stopping me. She said, "You look nice today, too."

"I do?" I'd been so emotionally messed up that morning, I had barely had the energy to brush my hair, and I had picked my clothes at random. But my stepdaughter was looking me up and down like I had done something special.

She said, "You always look so good in a button-down top. So professional, but still hot." She stroked my satin sleeve. "This is one of my favorite looks for you."

"Oh, okay. Just the ol' pants-and-blouse office standard. But thank you."

"You're welcome, Mom. Don't forget your purse." She handed it to me.

It was unsettling to talk like this when there was so much going unsaid between us.

I turned and walked through the dining room, the scene of the most recent crime. It was cleaned up now, but an unwelcome memory flashed into my head: me on my knees, my daughter laying on the table, crushing a cupcake in her hand, twitching in orgasm.

I hurried down the hall. On the inside, I was a mess.

Tracie, though, was acting very normal. Too normal.

I set my purse on my bedroom dresser and dropped onto my bed to take off my heels. I had been going through a lot mentally for a while now, but I knew I hadn't completely lost touch with reality. I knew what happened after the Halloween party. So, it was unnerving that Tracie was acting so sweet, like nothing unusual happened. Was she hoping we could just forget everything? Things had finally gone too far for me to be able to do that.

I took a deep breath to calm myself as I went into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. I searched my face for a normal woman, a normal suburban mom, hoping some bit of her was still there.

The things my stepdaughter and I had done had changed my life in a way that could never be changed back. But she was still my daughter. I needed to salvage what I could between us, and be a mother of some kind for my girl. She deserved better than me, but I was the only mom she had. I had to do what I could.

I composed myself as best as I was likely to. I quickly smoothed my eyebrows and checked my hair and makeup, as if I was going into an important business meeting. Then I walked down the hall toward my stepdaughter's door, scared of whatever she wanted to talk about. I took another deep breath, blew it out, and turned into her bedroom.

Tracie was lighting a candle on her dresser. I couldn't believe how good her room looked. The floor was completely clear of the mess of crumpled clothes that was usually there. Her vanity desk was cleaned off, with only her laptop and a school book placed tidily on it. Her bed was made up perfectly. In one corner of her room, she had even made an adorable display of her favorite stuffed animals, her childhood "lovies" that were too cherished to ever get rid of. She had them all stacked in a neat pyramid, with each one's eyes looking out. Everything in the room was put away and in its place, with the exception of a cardboard box on her bed.

"Wow," I said. "It looks great in here."

She looked back at me excitedly and waved out the match. "Hi!"

She hurried to me and wrapped her arms around me in a tight, surprising hug.

Slowly, I hugged her back.

With her head resting on my shoulder, she said, "First, Mom, I just want to apologize. I'm sorry for everything I've put you through."

I bit my lip to keep from crying. "Oh honey... I feel like I'm the one who needs to apologize."

Tracie said, "It's been killing me, not talking to you."

I nodded. "I know. Me too."

She held onto me a long time, so I held her too. Between her skirt and crop top, I felt the smooth, bare skin of her lower back. I tried to relax into the hug, but despite how nice my daughter was acting - or maybe because of it - I was anxious.

"Come here," she said, leading me to sit with her on the edge of her bed. "Do you want some water or something?"

"No, that's okay," I said. "Thanks." I looked around, marveling. It was like a picture you'd only see in a home decor ad: a perfectly clean teenager's bedroom, with Tracie looking like a model in a summer photo shoot.

She said, "I bet you're tired from work. Do you want a little neck rub?"

I wasn't sure that was the best idea, but I figured it might upset her to refuse. "Uh, sure, I guess. Thanks."

Tracie got on the bed behind me and started to rub my shoulders and my upper back through my satin button-down blouse. She put real effort into it, and frankly, it felt like just what I needed. I started to relax a little bit. I caught the fragrance of the scented candle.

"Gosh, Mom, you really have some serious tension going on in here."

"Yeah," I sighed. Then I made the understatement of my life. "Things have been a little rough lately."

"Well, let's see if we can make them a little smoother." Tracie's strong hands focused on a knot above my shoulder blade. I moaned in relief as she loosened it up.

I let her massage me in silence for a few minutes. I was so worn out from worrying that I just gave into it, and didn't question it like I had questioned everything non-stop for days. It really did feel good. I couldn't remember the last time anyone gave me a neck rub.

My stepdaughter asked, "Is that better?"

"It really is," I said. "Thanks so much."

She kept going. Her hands kneaded more of the tightness out of my neck and shoulders. I felt my body gradually soften and release.

She moved her gentle attention to my temples, then around the back of my ears. I surrendered to her touch. She combed her fingers through my hair. It felt wonderful.

I said, "You could be a masseuse, Tracie."

She chuckled and said, "I've watched some videos." Again she massaged from the base of my skull to my outer shoulders.

I don't know how much time passed. My girl's hands grew warmer while she squeezed and stroked me. My skin and muscles also warmed. Tracie worked some of my knots pretty hard, but the pain was worth it as they unkinked and relaxed. She loosened my whole neck. My head was bobbling pleasantly. I was in a trance.

Quietly, she said, "Am I helping you?"

"I should be paying you for this," I said.

"No. You deserve it." She gave me a sweet kiss in the crook of my neck, then began lightly stroking my collar bones.

I sighed in relaxation. I was all too ready to let go of all the stress I had been carrying, both physical and mental.

As she caressed the front of my shoulders, tension in my body released, and worries in my mind dissolved. My daughter's hands moved in smooth circles on my upper chest. Her touch through my satin blouse soothed my skin and brightened my heart. She moved closer behind me on the bed, her firm belly pressing softly into me.

I rested the back of my head on my stepdaughter's breastbone. I felt like I could fall asleep right there in her arms. Her hands massaged careful little circles up the sides of my neck to my earlobes. I lifted my chin a bit as she gently stroked my throat.

She whispered, "Thank you for trusting me, Mom."

There had been times in our lives when Tracie probably would have liked to choke me. But for all the turmoil and confusion we'd gone through lately, I still loved my daughter and I knew she loved me. As her fingers glided up and down my throat, I didn't mind being vulnerable to her. In fact, I hummed a long note of pleasure.

She giggled. "Do I have you purring?"

"I guess so," I smiled. I tipped my face up to make eye contact with my girl. She smiled down at me. She was so beautiful. I wanted to believe everything would be okay.

I closed my eyes and felt her hands travel lightly down my throat, back to my collar bones. She started slowly swirling her fingers once more on my upper chest. Even there, I felt tension releasing. I was hypnotized by the feeling and sound of the sliding satin. I sighed in relief as her fingertips passed over the buttons, sometimes slipping under the fabric. Her hands circled unhurriedly, relaxing me more with each widening sweep.

My breathing was deep and relaxed. I listened to Tracie's breath, so close above, while her tender fingers moved over me. I had needed this release. I must have nodded off into a blissful doze.

But then, somewhere in the middle of that heavenly massage, my heartbeat and breathing grew faster. I wondered why I was becoming excited. As I blinked my eyes open, I realized it was because my stepdaughter's hands had strayed, and she was now fully caressing my breasts.

Trying to appear calm, I set my arm atop her hands and said, "Thank you so much for the neck rub, honey."

After a moment, she took the hint and removed her hands from me.