I Hated Being Me Mf

I hated being 18.

This was not a new or even revolutionary feeling, nor was my hate something unique or different. No, I simply hated the frustration that being 18 involved. When reaching 18, society likes to claim you are an adult, they then fail to remove the restrictions that prevent you from being an adult. Smoking? Nope, another year before you are allowed that. Drinking? Nope, got to be 21. Property? Oh, I'm sorry you must be 21 as well. Rental car? Better not try that until you are 25. You can now even be claimed as a 'dependent child' on your parents' insurance until you are 26!

So, I was an 18-year-old adult, who could not do anything as an actual adult. This frustration was worsened by my being 18 and already finished with my first year of college. Nothing makes you feel less of an adult than being a child in college. Do you think any college girl was interested in a kid who can't even go out and get a cigarette, let alone a drink? I hate being 18.

So, I spent my first full year of college single and frustrated. And by frustrated I partially mean the ability to be an adult, but really I was most frustrated sexually.

I was no prize. Athlete? Nope, I stood all of five and a half feet tall, with the glorious 140 pounds that goes along with such stature. I had begun working out when I was 15 and still did, but while I had toned and defined, even bulked up a little, I had no coordination. Smart? Smart aleck maybe, but a solid B-C student. I was just not that interested in books and learning, especially since girls had captured my attention. Rich? Did I mention I was paying my own way through school and was back at home working at the local burger place to earn money for next year? To sum it up I had developed into the awkward kid, who hangs around, nice, but unnoticed or missed.

I was an only child but was very curious and so would even spy on my Mom's friends when they'd come over. I was small, younger than most of their kids, and generally unnoticed so was able to discretely listen to them talk or watch as they would come and go. I was always hoping to catch an unguarded glimpse under a skirt or through a blouse, but never did. Once I got to high school, I was ready to date and quickly set my heart on various girls. It was always the same, interest, a few dates, then the dreaded friendzone. I was the best friend to some of the cutest girls in my class. My life sucked, but the girls never did.

Going to college had re-invigorated my hopes and with a new positive attitude I had gone, only to find myself now a friend to several more girls and still a virgin.

Getting home from an early shift at work I was headed to my room when my Mom called from the other room. "Michael? Before you go upstairs, I'd like you to meet Carol."

Pausing with a foot on the step I thought crap, nothing makes you feel more an adult than having to parade and present to your Mom's friends. I almost kept going, I could claim I didn't hear her or maybe had my earphones in... but that was not who I was, so I grudgingly walked into the living room.

"Michael, this is Carol Albertson, the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Johansson across the street. She and I were best friends all the way through college. She and her family have just moved back into the Johansson's old house." Mom said. I remembered the Johansson's they had passed away last year, and the house had been empty since then. I never knew they had a daughter, but I could see the resemblance. Carol was almost the definition of average. She was of average height, in a pair of average jeans, with a plain t-shirt, of average weight, with brown hair and brown eyes. If I had been forced to provide a description to the police, it would match half of the women in town.

"Hello Michael. I have heard so much about you." Carol's voice was also unsurprisingly - average.

"Hi Mrs. Albertson." I replied in the tried and true manner I had been taught.

"Oh dear, call me Carol please. My mother-in-law is the only Mrs. Albertson I know." Carol said with a laugh. And there is was... something that was not average. When she had laughed her eyes had sparkled and her face had blossomed, and the sound had been surprisingly sweet. I was momentarily taken aback at the brief transformation and had missed the next things that was said.

"Excuse me I missed that, long day at work." I lied.

"Carol was asking you about college and what your major was?" Mom repeated with a smile.

"Oh, it was okay, a lot harder than I expected. I'm majoring in Biology." I answered.

"Really? How wonderful. You know I started in Biology." Carol said with excitement.

"Which is true." Added my Mom "but you also majored in Sociology, Psychology, and Anthropology. I'm not sure what 'ology' you finished in, but you did try them all."

Carol laughed again, that sunshine on a cloudy day laugh, and replied "Ouch that was mean... true, but mean. And I finished in General Studies, if you must know." We all laughed then. General Studies was what you got when you had taken every core class needed for graduation, but there was no clear pattern to all of the other classes that filled up the minimum hours needed to earn a degree. "Besides," Carol added "the boys kept majoring in different things." This resulted in another round of laughter. By this point I had sat down on the footstool and joined the two old friends in the living room.

Carol and Mom shared stories of each other in high school and college. I was amazed at the wild life that my heretofore sedate mother had lived while earning her education. I was reevaluating my opinion of my mother as the conversation continued. Mom had been 22 when she and Dad got married during her what should have been her senior year of college. Dad had already graduated the year before and theirs had been a whirlwind of dating and then marriage, I was not born until ten years later, a bit of a surprise for my parents. To hear Carol tell the story my grandparents had been furious with both Mom and especially Dad, convinced that Mom would never graduate. Carol's face was in constant smile mode the entire time she was reliving their youth. Each new adventure and event would reignite her eyes.

That was until my Mom mentioned Carl, who was Carol's husband. I could see the light fade from her face as Mom described how Carol and Carl had met and after almost a year of dating gotten married a year before Mom and Dad.

Mom must have noticed the change as she said, "Carol are you alright?"

Carol did not reply, but just looked away. Mom was quick to pick up on her friend's mood and turning to me said "Michael, you smell like burgers, go get cleaned up before dinner."

Sensing my cue, I left the living room and headed off to my room, but I stopped on the stairs just out of sight and listened. What I heard was that while things had gone well, it had not been a happy time lately. She had caught Carl cheating on her, and the ensuing shockwaves had cost him his job and forced them to move back into her parents' house. Two of their kids were already living on their own, and their youngest had moved with them, since Carl had managed to find a great new job here that allowed them to lie and say the move was due to his promotion. The family had managed to keep themselves together and everyone seemed to be doing great... except her. The bottom line was that Carol had lost her faith in Carl and so things were not very good between them. This just made the distance greater and now they rarely even spoke. Throughout the story Mom had offered support for Carol and by the end both had cried and a few laughs had returned.

As Carol got up to leave I quickly slipped up the stairs and went into my room.

Dinner was good and I laughed as Mom told Dad portions of the afternoon's conversations. I noticed she did not share 'all' the stories, but mostly those that happened after Dad and she met.

As we began clearing the table Mom asked "Michael, are you working on Wednesday morning?"

"No. I'm off both Wednesday and Thursday." I replied, carrying a plate into the kitchen.

"Oh good. I was hoping you could help me. I offered to help Carol get some of her parent's old stuff out of the house, and I could use your help." Mom explained as she began loading the dishwasher.

"Sure" I replied, as we finished the dishes.

Tuesday was a pain. I ended up working a double shift, which was great for my checkbook, but I was exhausted. Leaving the restaurant in the wee hours of Wednesday morning I headed home. As I pulled into our driveway, I noticed that the Johansson's, correction the Albertson's lights were on. Parking the car, I got out and looked over. I could see the lights were on and there was someone standing in the den. Looking at my watch I saw it was 2:15am, so I decided to walk closer and see what was going on. Every other house was dark and our street had only one streetlight that was half a block away, so I walked almost to the front of the house in darkness.

Standing just to the side of their driveway I could see perfectly into the Albertsons' living room. The figure I had seen standing there was Mr. Albertson and it was clear to me he was not happy. He was waving his arms as he spoke, and I could see the glare on his face. Now however I could that he was facing another person, Carol. She was also gesturing and pointing at him angrily, but what hit me first and locked my attention, was that she was standing there in an almost see through night gown. I stared. Almost without thinking I moved closer to the window, until I was standing just to the side looking in. I was only inches from the window and Carol was only a dozen feet beyond. I couldn't clearly hear them as they seemed to be sharing angry whispers, but I could see them perfectly. Carl had his back to me, but I could see his partially bald head, his rumpled t-shirt straining around his waist, and his shapeless boxers. Carol on the other hand was facing me full on, which allowed me to see the faint shape of her breasts through the nightgown. Not only could I make out her nipple points poking the thin material, I could see the dark circles of her areola. As my gaze wandered over Carol, I realized I could see a hint of her bellybutton and then I realized that I could see a dark shape of pubic hair. In a faintly blurred sense, I could see Carol Albertson naked.

Glancing around quickly I opened my pants and began to masturbate quickly. I may be a virgin, but that does not mean I am unexperienced with everything. I had been masturbating at least daily since I first discovered girls at 14. I was pumping myself furiously staring at the beautiful figure of Carol Albertson. She was still arguing, until suddenly she stopped and left the room. I was so close that it didn't matter, and moments later I came. Zipping quickly, I sprinted home.

"Come on. You need to get up. You didn't forget we were going to help Carol today did you?" My Mom was saying as I groggily opened my eyes. Then the words hit me, and I hopped out of bed headed for the shower. "be just a minute Mom" I called as I closed my bathroom door.

Just a matter of minutes passed before I was dressed and downstairs ready to go. Mom having already gathered some boxes and our hand truck, was standing at the door with a cup of coffee in her hand.

Let me start with the basics... Carol had 3 daughters, Cammie, 30, Carrie 28, and Callie 25. Only Callie was still living at home. The next basic fact is that their house was full of crap. When we arrived Callie and Carol, these people and their alliterations, were both standing in the garage facing a mountain of junk.

Callie was everything that her mother was not. At 25 Callie had briefly gone to college, before choosing to follow 'her soul,' her words, into art. She was blond and endowed with ample curves and a beautiful face. Unfortunately she was also into the whole anti-makeup and grooming thing that seemed to capture so many who follow art, but even her art affectations could not hide the figure buried in her shapeless clothes.

"Wow." my Mom began as we arrived "that is a lot of crap." I could not have said it better myself.

Carol turned and hugged my Mom saying "Thank you for offering to help Jane. It is a mess isn't it?"

"Did your folks every throw anything away?" I asked as I looked at the floor to ceiling piles that filled the two-car garage.

"Gran-ma never threw anything away." Callie answered, then turning to me introduced herself, with an odd arm wave, "Hi, I'm Callie, but everyone calls me Cee."

"Mike." I said waving back.

What followed were hours of digging and hauling and unpacking. The garage had been full and as the inside pile shrank the curbside one was growing. At one point I asked to use the restroom and was directed inside.

Inside the house was in much better, although obviously unfinished, shape. The restroom still had a slight 'gran-ma' vibe, but I needed to go so lifting the lid I started to pee. As I did, I looked around the small room. In a moment I stopped... I wonder? Finishing quickly, I turned on the sink to wash and my hands and under the cover of the noise, dug into the laundry hamper that was sitting behind the door. I grabbed the first pair of panties I found and quickly slipped them into my pocket, before washing my hands and leaving the small room hand tucked deep in my pocket.

"Hi there Mike," Carol said walking towards and the restroom as I walked down the hall towards the door. Quickly I pulled my hand out of my pocket and smiled. Then I noticed an odd smile growing on her face as she looked down at me. Thinking I must have left my fly open I started to move my hands, but stopped as she said, "an interesting choice."

Looking down I saw a pair of purple panties hanging out of my pocket. "Mrs. Albertson I can expl..." I started but stopped as she shushed me.

"Keep them for a while, but they are my favorite so maybe later I can trade them for another pair." Carol said as she reached down and pushed them back down into my pocket, her fingers pushing all the way into my pocket and my crotch, whispering "maybe you'd like to take a freshly worn pair sometime" then she was passed me and away down the hall.

The rest of the afternoon flew by. I hauled boxes and bagged trash, but all I could think about was my treasure and Carol. What did she mean? What should I do? What?

"Hey Mike... Mike?" I finally heard Cee calling.

"Yeah?" I quickly answered taking my hand from my pocket. "What's up?"

"We are going to grab some pizza and my Mom wanted me to see if you wanted to go." Cee asked in her bored and uninterested tone.

"Sure" I replied and before long we all loaded into Carol's Jeep and headed to the restaurant. The drive was uneventful, but I did find out more about Cee. She had gone to a year of college, but dropped it to try her hand at art. She worked mostly with paint and described herself as an "expressionist", which she described as someone who painted not the blurry colors of an impressionist, but rather the emotion tinted colors that express how something feels. I had no idea what any of that meant, but I nodded knowingly. She talked about her anti-establishment feelings, and how she was going to do what she wanted no matter what. By the time we arrived at the pizza place I was beginning to run out of things to say, as she was not an easy conversationalist.

The pizza place was not crowded, so all four of us slipped quickly into a booth. Carol and Cee on one side and Mom and I on the other. Mom and Carol were busy talking, Cee and I sat largely just staring out the window and at our phones. Eventually, Cee excused herself for the restroom, and Mom followed shortly. So, I found myself at the table alone with Carol.

I jumped as Carol's hand touched mine. "Mike we only have a moment, but I want you to meet me tonight at 11 beside the driveway where you were this morning. Will you?" She whispered quickly.

"Okay" I answered.

With a quick squeeze of my hand she sat back up, just as the pizza arrived. When Cee came back, I was already helping myself to a slice. Mom returned shortly after and we all were soon busily eating.

The rest of the dinner was uneventful and after Carol dropped us off at home Mom and I filled Dad in on all the junk we had hauled out during our efforts.

Before long I was back in my room and holding Carol's purple panties in my hands. They were small brief type panties with a plain design and cotton crotch. Staring at them I couldn't help but think that Carol had been in these. That the slight musky scent of them was her and not just any part of her, but rather her pussy. That had been right here, I thought touching the cotton swath. As I sat there I also realized that in a little over two hours I was supposed to meet Carol. And that reminded me that not only had I been caught stealing these panties but peeping as well. How much had she seen? How had she seen? What did she want? I wasn't scared, if she had wanted to humiliate or cause me problems, she had had much better opportunities today. So I waited and tried to hurry the slow moving clock.

At about 10:30 Mom and Dad went to bed, leaving the house dark and quiet. So, it was easy to slip outside a little later and begin my walk over to Carol's house. Unlike last night most of the house was dark, with only two lights on, one in the upstairs bedroom I knew belonged to Cee, the other in the kitchen. The street was still dark and as I approached the house I saw a figure, Carol I assumed, standing just inside the shadows beside the living room window.

"Come back here Mike." Carol whispered as she led the way along the drive to the side door of the garage, which she opened and entered. I followed from the dark of the driveway into the blackness of the garage. I stopped as soon as I entered, but was pulled in further, allowing the door to close behind me.

The light was blinding, and I blinked furiously trying to clear my vision. Finally, I could see well enough to see Carol sitting on an old leather couch. "So" she said as I looked at her "what did you think?" Carol was sitting on the couch in the same night gown she had been wearing this morning. It was actually a light cream color, but was still semitransparent, allowing me to again see her breasts clearly.

"Umm... I... " I started trying not to look through the thin fabric.

"It was you in the window this morning. I thought it was but I had to be sure and after the panties today I pretty much was. Now I'm sure. So why were you so interested in a woman like me?" Carol asked.

I wish I could say I was suave and articulate and that somehow, I won her over, but I cant. I was just standing there trying hard not to stare. Finally sensing the hopelessness of the situation Carol patted the couch next to her and said "Okay Mike just relax. Carl is out of town for the week and it's just you and me here."

I managed to sit down and as I did Carol turned on the couch to face me. She had one leg tucked under her and her hands in her lap as she spoke. "Mike I am actually old enough to be your mother. I'm old, floppy, a married mother of three, and far from youthful. Why are you so interested in me?"

"You're not that old. You're beautiful Carol" I finally said in a quiet voice as I looked up at her.

"Beautiful? Me? Mike I'm aware of how I look. I know I'm utterly nondescript. I wasn't always like this, but that doesn't change how I am now. Carl has made my plain boringness more than abundantly clear." Carol answered searching my face.

Something clicked in my head at that. I understood something and knew what to say, so looking directly in Carol's eyes I smiled and said, "It's when you laugh." Carol's face clouded and she frowned in confusion, so I continued quickly "when you were laughing with Mom yesterday your face came alive and your eyes seemed to sparkle. In that moment you were no longer plain or average you were stunning." As I spoke, I reached out and placed my hand on her cheek pushing her hair back behind her ear. "You aren't old or plain Carol. To me you are that smiling woman who was talking to my Mom."