Christie and John are back. I thank you all for your words of encouragement, requesting more of this story, and also for your patience in waiting for it.
I hope this chapter meets with your approval, and you enjoy your time reading it.
As always, please, don't be silent. Send me your thoughts, feedback, and cast your votes.
Thank you.
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"So, honey...you say that you and your mother don't keep secrets?" I asked, when we talked later that night. I had a conundrum. I wanted to be completely honest with Christie, but I didn't want to make an accusation that could be a simple misunderstanding. I know I said there could be no doubt, but now there was. Funny how that happens.
"That's the plan," Christie replied. "She knows all about us now, and if she asks, I promised I would answer her questions. I assume you're asking for a reason?"
"Um, yeah. You could say that," I said, still unsure of how to proceed. "Have you talked to her since you left?"
"No. Why?" she asked, drawing out the 'why', and indicating I should spill my guts.
"Well, she kind of invited me over for dinner," I began, "alone."
"Uh huh. Go on," she said quietly.
"She was very talkative. She told me about her sex life with your dad," I continued, "and that she wasn't totally happy..."
"Really? That's news to me," she laughed. "What else?"
So far, I hadn't really said anything that would cause friction, but the rest of it might.
"She, uh...she was dressed a bit, um...provocatively," I said.
"Define 'provocatively'," Christie said. "What was she wearing?"
"It was more what she wasn't wearing," I replied. "Pretty sure she forgot her bra."
"Gave you an eyeful, did she," she giggled. "Is that all?"
"No," I sighed.
John, meet point of no return...point of no return, meet John.
"She kind of hit on me, I think." There was a palpable silence.
"Excuse me?" she growled. "What...did...you...do?" There was a tone in her voice that scared me a bit.
"Nothing, baby...I swear. I didn't encourage her," I said, suddenly gushing in an effort to tell her I had nothing to do with it. "I went over for dinner, and we ate, and we talked, and she said a few things that were pretty flirtatious, and she said I had her attention if I could keep up with you, and..."
"She said that?" Christie interrupted.
"Yes, she did...and it wasn't just her words," I replied. "She was giving me this look, like you do when you're horny, and her, um...um..."
"Just tell me, John," she whispered, "Please."
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
"Her fucking nipples were sticking out like thimbles!" I blurted. "I wasn't trying to look, I swear, but it was impossible not to notice."
There was a long tense silence.
"So, when I could, without being rude, I told her I was tired after the drive," I said softly, "and I came home."
The silence on her end persisted.
"Christie? Are you mad at me?" I asked.
"Of course not, baby," she whispered. "I'm just trying to figure out what she's up to. If she's really hitting on you, then she's messing with my man, and I'll deal with her. If she's doing it for effect, well...that will take a little more thought. You didn't do anything wrong. In fact you did everything right, in my view, including telling me, so if she's trying to trip you up... "
"Wait," I laughed, relieved that I was off the hook, and that she was being so rational about it. She was very mature, and almost never had an impulsive, emotional reaction. "You think it's a honey trap?"
"I think it's a good possibility. I'm not sure I like that," she said. "It says she doesn't trust you, or doesn't trust my judgement. It's an attempt to sabotage us, in a round about way."
Angela should have known better than to match wits with her daughter. Christie had ploughed through the minefield of my emotional baggage and come out without a scratch. This little game... if that's what it was, and I was beginning to believe it was true...was pretty basic as tactics go. My darling was rubbing off on me, and I already knew our next move.
"So...tomorrow I invite her over, say to use the pool, and see what she does," I said, thinking as I went.
"Better yet," Christie replied, "invite her for a midnight skinny dip, tonight, while Dad's away. If she shows up naked...well, you get to check out her tits, and we know that she's really after your dick. If she shows up dressed, or doesn't show at all, then it's probably a test, and she'll be calling me to tell me about your infidelity."
"What if she
does
turn up naked?" I asked.
"Hmmmm," she giggled, "how would you feel about doing my Mother?"
"I decline to comment..." I said immediately, lest any hesitation lead her to think I was considering it, "...on the grounds that I may incriminate myself."
"Good answer," she laughed, "but if she shows up ready for action, it raises the question of why? Maybe she really isn't getting enough from my Father?"
"Slow down. I like your Mother...but I Love You, and I'm a one woman type of guy," I said. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"No. You're mine, and I'm not sharing you...not even with her," she said evenly. "I'm just considering all the permutations. Thank you for being open with me. That must have been hard, given she's my Mother."
You have no idea,
I thought.
You might have reacted emotionally, and I've become very, very attached to you. The thought that you might be angry had been, quite frankly, terrifying.
"Um, yeah, you could say that," I replied, paraphrasing my true thoughts. I looked at the clock on the wall. "It's almost 10. I guess I should call her."
"Text her," Christie suggested. "It's not as precise, and gives you another out, if she shows up looking for some nooky."