Unexpected things can crush you, but good, unexpected things happen, too. Last year one of those good things happened, and I want to share that experience. I may die in an auto crash next week, but I'll go out a little happier if I put this down in writing for other people to enjoy. It's only right, because I have enjoyed others' stories.
Some background, first. I'm 26 and live with my mom, a fantastic woman who's my best friend and biggest fan. I'm teaching, saving for a condo or maybe even a house one day, but really like the arrangement I have now. Mom has company, I have company, I help with money towards expenses, and I try to help out in any way I can to do my fair share of chores. Mom has zero interest in another guy since my dad walked out years ago, even though I keep encouraging her. That's a mystery to me, but after years of encouragement to date, I have come to accept that she can do anything she wants-and will.
So my mom has a friend from way back I will call Diane. She visits every once in a while for a few days, usually a long weekend. Diane is okay, cordial and pleasant enough, but she and my mom seem to have a great friendship and things in common that I know nothing about. She seems a little...cool to me, kind of businesslike, not the warm bubbly type I like. But she's my mother's friend, so no problem at all.
Mom and Diane planned a weekend visit in October, and I mean really planned. They knew the museum, restaurants, shopping places they wanted to go and when they would go there. The only catch was that mom is a nurse, with extra training and experience with burn victims, so she can get called in to work almost any time in an emergency. It doesn't happen often, so no big deal.
The weekend arrived, and Friday night the two of them got a Lyft to their favorite Mexican restaurant. They loved the carnitas and the margarita pitcher special, but were smart enough to know they shouldn't be driving after consuming even half a pitcher. I had a vague plan to see if some friends were going to our usual bar after the music started, but got caught up in a west coast playoff game that was really close.
Mom called my cell around 9 and told me she was coming home asap. Some "Happy Hour Harry" as she called them, had been in a bad crash. She had already called a Lyft and was coming home to change.
"Make some coffee for me, Dear. I'll be home in 15 or 20 minutes and need a little boost."
I made the coffee, running in and out of the room to keep an eye on the game. Mom and Diane arrived in a burst of laughter, and mom grabbed some coffee before racing off to put on her scrubs.Two minutes later she was dressed and making apologies to Diane as she ran out the door. She carried a bottle of mouthwash in her hand. Coffee was good, but my mother would never risk coffee breath while working shoulder to shoulder with someone.
"Take care of Diane, honey", she called out as she left.
Diane laughed, and when she did, I realized that she was slightly inebriated.
"Pitcher margaritas?" I asked, using my mom's phrase.
"Soooo good. I drank two, but your mom always goes slow. She didn't even finish one. In the back of her mind she knows she can always get called in to work, so she never drinks too much. It's almost as if she knew she was going to get called in."
"Well, it is Friday night. She always says weekend nights are worst. This being a small place, there aren't that many nurses with her expertise."
Diane nodded, grabbed the edge of my chair for support to steady herself and asked about the game. I was surprised she had any interest, and figured she was just making small talk.
"My dad played semi-pro ball once."
My jaw dropped and I made a face of surprise.
"Back in 1962. Maybe 1963. I think it was for some minor league teams that had a connection with the Washington Senators."
We continued to chit-chat about that for a bit in between game action. Diane sat on the arm of the big stuffed chair I always sit in to watch TV. Maybe she wanted company, maybe it was our new camaraderie. Who knows? When a commercial came on I reached out and half patted, half rubbed her back briefly, saying something like "I had no idea".
"Oooo, that feels good. Yep. I think Dad was good, but not great, so things never happened like he hoped. But he did real well in Real Estate, and he always seemed happy, so you just never know..."
Diane's voice trailed off as I continued to rub the small of her back. In truth, it felt a little odd to be rubbing the back of this woman who was familiar and friend, yet kind of a stranger to me.
"Mmmm, that's nice."
"Really?" I asked. "I'm hardly doing anything, just making little circles with my hand."
"I don't know if it's me or the margaritas, but it just feels good."
"Stretch out across here and I'll rub your back. You won't be able to see the game that well, though."
Under normal circumstances, that was a crazy idea, but alcohol changes everything. Diane made a noise of happy surprise and slumped across the chair and my lap, then scooted her body around a bit to make herself more comfortable.
"Game, shlame", she said. "I'll take a back rub any day.
"I'm no expert" I said. "I just rub mom's shoulders and neck sometimes when she's tired, but I never did her back."
"You can do my neck and shoulders next", Diane said laughingly.
"Sure", I replied. I couldn't think of anything to say. Or maybe a hundred things went through my head and I couldn't decide the right reply. This was such a different situation than anything I was used to with Diane.
I started to continue my massage of Diane's back through her purplish blouse, but it was coming out of her skirt so I pulled it out the rest of the way and started rubbing her back with my bare hand. It wasn't anything sexy at all, just an open hand making little circles on her back, but Diane said something approvingly. I couldn't understand the words, but just the tone alone said she was happy.
I continued the circles for a few minutes, just varying the size of the circles, the location and pressure. Total amateur stuff. A couple times I crossed the bra strap with my hands, but Diane said nothing. Touching a strange woman's bra strap seemed a little bit erotic, and so were the sounds Diane made. I started to get hard, and was frankly a little bit embarassed about it. Maybe if I was a sophisticated forty-year-old who had been with lots of women, it wouldn't be sexy at all and I wouldn't be hard. But I wasn't. I didn't have the nerve to undo her bra strap, so I just slipped my fingers underneath the strap and massaged lightly with my fingers. After doing this several times I accidentally undid one of the hooks. I was about to re-snap it when Diane said "Undo the other one. I hate bra straps when I'm hot."
So I did. Gladly. Gleefully, and swept my hands up and down the whole expanse of Diane's back. Her skin was soft, and touching it seemed very human. Would we ever have the same relationship again?
After another few minutes of doing the same thing I was uncertain what to do next, so I used my finger nails to scratch really lightly.
"Ohh, that's nice...Ooooo...ooo-ooo-ooo...I love it. You have magic hands."
I laughed. I had no idea what I was doing, but I did like making this woman feel good. And I got to feeling a little bolder, so gradually I started to let my right hand go a little lower each time, letting the fingers slip under the waistband of Diane's black skirt. I couldn't feel much, so I switched to rubbing a little lower outside the skirt. Not rubbing the meaty part of her butt, but the top where the back transitions to the butt. I applied a fair amount of pressure, trying to disguise what I was doing as just normal massage. Diane didn't stop me. On the contrary, her contented murmurs told me she was enjoying what I was doing. I really wanted to caress her round butt, but lacked the nerve for a direct attack. It seemed crazy anyway. What to do next?
I thought for a bit, then came up with a plan of attack which involved light strokes down the side of her butt and then the tops of her thighs. Nothing outright sexy, just continuing this "innocent" massage. I suggested Diane move forward just a bit and she complied, but then something happened I hadn't anticipated.
"My bra's coming off! Help me."
Indeed it was, and I caught a quick glimpse of the side of one white breast before Diane clutched her blouse and bra. Not sure what to do or say for a second, I had a moment of inspiration.
"Why not just lie down on the couch?" I suggested. "I can just sit on the coffee table.
Diane thought for a moment or two, and I was sure our fun little massage session was about to end. I could sense the wheels turning in her head, but those gears were lubricated by alcohol. The fact that my mom would probably not be returning anytime soon played a part, too.
"Okay" Diane said cheerfully. As she got up, she swayed a little, holding her blouse and bra against her chest. She plopped down on the couch. She faced out for a few seconds, then changed her mind, and turned her head towards the couch. I paused for a second, unsure how to proceed. I really wanted to touch those bare legs. Then a path forward suddenly became clear.
"Mom loves it when I massage her feet. Let me do your feet."
Diane squealed in delight.
"You really know how to please a woman. Back scratches, foot rubs. You can practice on me any time."
I began a slow massage of the bottoms of the feet, stretched the toes a little, caressed them individually and did absolutely anything I could think of. Then I repeated everything, and slowly moved up to Diane's calves. There was no reproach. No words of caution. I kept my hands focused on massage, but my eyes moved ahead, up Diane's body to her thighs and full, womanly butt. I didn't really expect to score there, but I was sure going to try. Slowly, slowly I worked my way up. Innocently, slowly, just an extra half inch extra on one stroke and another half inch a 30 seconds later.
Before long I was running my left hand up and down the backs of Diane's soft, but shapely thigh while my right hand caressed behind her knee and kept squeezing her calf. And there was no protest! Diane kept up her string of contented murmurs, o-o-o-o sounds and little feminine sighs of content.
After repeating myself once too often, I made a bold move and shifted position to put one knee between Diane's legs and massaged a thigh with each hand.
"Ummmmm...that feels good. This is kinda sexy, isn't it?"
"Yeah. It is. YOU'RE sexy. I had no idea. I never thought of you like that. "
