It was a shit situation. Mary's mother had been laid off from her job right after New Year. Though she didn't know the exact details about their finances, Mary was certain whatever slim savings her single mother had been able to set aside had been quickly wiped out while unemployment was being sorted out.
Between the bureaucracy, the costly COBRA health insurance and Mary's deposits for college, they were in dire straights.
That's why, as shitty as it was to be left behind, Mary understood why her mother had to take the new job immediately. There were lots of nights of yelling and crying over the details. The how, the when, the why. Mary had only a few months left until she graduated high school, but those few months were more than they could afford to live without a paycheck.
In the end, it was her Uncle Adam who'd saved the day. Mary's mother had no family locally and few close friends left in the area. Adam wasn't even Mary's real Uncle, just a close neighbor that had always looked after them both through some tough times.
When Mary was much younger, she had even suspected her mom was dating Adam. The idea was laughable to her now. She'd long since sussed out her mother now had zero interest in men. Mary guessed if her mom had been born a few decades later, and hadn't been burdened with the immigrant-child guilt of starting a family, her mom would be able to call herself a lesbian. Or maybe she was just asexual?
Mary had tried to prod her mother into talking about it often, especially once she'd decided to come out as queer in her early teens. It had been a tense period in what was otherwise a wonderful mother-daughter relationship. One night, with her mother still sternly silent on supporting or condemning her "choice" to come out of the closet, Mary finally understood the look her mom's eyes: "I couldn't be myself and I don't know how you can."
If they'd had the luxury of time or money for a therapist, Mary would have gladly dragged the pain out of her mother, made her understand. Maybe they would be able to, someday.
For now, her mom needed to move two hundred miles away. There was barely enough money for a plane ticket, so selling their house was the only way it was going to work.
Mary had tried to convince her mom she could stay with Emily, her girlfriend. In spite of never addressing her daughter's relationship directly, Emily's parents had always gotten along well with Mary's mom. It was hard not to love them; Emily's home radiated warmth and security in a way Mary sometimes envied. In fact, Emily was maybe too comfortable, not understanding why Mary's mom had such difficulty supporting her daughter. Mary loved Emily, but sometimes it seemed like she was living in a bit of a worry-free bubble.
Outside of the bubble, in reality, Mary knew her mom wasn't ready to let her daughter spend months sleeping over at her 'best friend's house'.
So here Mary was, crashing on a cot in Uncle Adam's study for the next few months. It wasn't too bad, especially knowing it was helping ease her mom's mind while she relocated. Things were going to work out for both of them.
Now if only Adam would ease up on the Fox News.
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Mary had spent a lot of time at Adam's house over the years, but spaces take new shapes when you live, sleep and dream within them. As close as they were, as much as she trusted him, there was still the undeniable discomfort in sharing space. The one full bathroom was awkward. She'd picked up a shower caddy, uncomfortable nesting her few toiletries among his.
After a few days of seeing her cart her shampoo and body wash to the shower, Adam offered to clear out some space for her in the cabinet.
"I know it's just for a few months, but I want you to make yourself at home. Girls need a lot more room for their makeup and what-have-you. No need to become a spartan on my account." He was sifting through his medicine cabinet, discarding dusty, half-empty bottles while Mary stood in the hallway.
"Actually, I don't really need that much space, Adam." Mary had never worn makeup, and rarely used the assorted moisturizers and hair products her mom seemed to endlessly gift her.
"Nonsense! I need to go through this mess anyway." He glanced at the expiration date on a yellowed bottle of aspirin, winced at whatever number he saw and chucked it into the bathroom trash bin with a hollow clank.
Mary opened her mouth to explain it wasn't really necessary, but decided not to be a bother. She could unpack her extra, unopened beauty products that were cluttering up her small travel bag. Adam was doing her a huge favor playing host, the least she could do was be appreciative.
Adam was sweet, giving her space most of the time, but he was... a bit out of touch when it came to her social life.
"I imagine there's some boy who's going to be heartbroken when you leave." Adam offered up over dinner the second week.
Mary reflexively snorted in gentle laughter, before she realized he was serious. Adam turned slightly red but seemed to misunderstand.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed... Well, you're quite a charming girl. I'm sure the boys around here just are too bullheaded to see it."
Mary didn't know where to begin and didn't feel like finding out exactly how progressive Adam's views were on queer culture. They'd never really discussed politics, but she knew the TV was almost always tuned into some conservative blowhard warning about 'the erosion of traditional values'.
"I know an old, out of touch guy like me probably has no place saying it..." Adam cleared his throat and prepared to offer some unsolicited advice.
Oh god, please don't say it then. Mary screamed internally, wanted to get off the topic as quickly as possible.
"I know girls these days sometimes give up. Not saying you look like that! Just, well, with your short hair and glasses..." Adam gave a vague gesture at Mary and paused to take another bit of their home-cooked pasta dinner.
Mary bit her tongue and gave a weak, noncommittal shrug.
"I'm not telling you how to dress. God knows half my closet could probably be in the Smithsonian. I just hate to see a pretty girl like you hide under those baggy clothes and dyke haircut. You're just a kid, but you don't want people thinking you're a lesbian."
Mary nearly choked but managed not to laugh in his face. She felt her cheeks flush, her anger rise, but kept her composure.
He was trying, god help him.
"This Alfredo sauce is delicious!" Mary quickly changed the subject. It was a clumsy escape from the topic, but an honest reaction. It was shockingly good for a bachelor with a self-proclaimed lack of "women's skills" like cooking.
"Hmm?" Adam was mercifully happy to take the compliment. "I'm glad you like it. I don't normally go for that organic crap, but I figured a growing girl like you could use some hearty, local food. Picked up some of that 'Fertile Valley' stuff from the farmer's market. Asked the nice lady at the stall what teenagers these days like, she sold me this fancy cream and butter. G-M-O, raw-milk or some nonsense."
Mary knew that 'GMO raw milk' was nonsense, but let him continue.
"Cost me an arm and a leg, but damned if it really doesn't taste great." He stood up and put his plate in the sink. "Still have a bunch leftover, was going to save it for lunch tomorrow, but it's yours if you want seconds?"
Mary nodded with her mouth full. She was a twig and normally ate like a bird, but she couldn't get enough of this creamy sauce.
Adam cleaned up while she inhaled another plate. She was stuffed, but couldn't help but get every last bite of the rich goodness. Adam chuckled, letting her scrape out the bottom of the pan before scrubbing it.
"I'll need to get more of that. Maybe you'll finally get some curves on you."
Mary was so dazed from the carb and fat overload, she couldn't bother to muster a protest at the creepy comment.
"One last growth spurt, I guess." She offered before excusing herself to lay down and recuperate.
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A few hours later, Mary was still awake. She'd definitively had way too much to at dinner. She tossed and turned uncomfortably, unable to get to sleep. Her stomach felt bloated, hell her whole body felt a bit thicker. The brain fog of the meal hadn't dissipated but only gotten worse.
She'd texted Emily she was too tired to do their normal 'goodnight call'. She still felt too out of it to converse and catch up with her girlfriend, but she was regretting missing their semi-nightly sexy time. Their late-night phone sex was something they'd enjoyed often, getting each other offer before passing out. Back at her old house, her mom's room was far away and they'd been free to chat and talk dirty freely. Adam's house was much less private, with her temporary bedroom being adjacent to Adam's. She knew from his occasional snores, that the walls were thin, so it was difficult to talk late into the night with Emily these days.
But Mary was painfully horny, and her drowsy head made it difficult to focus on anything else.
In her near fever-dream state, she gave up on trying to rest her head on the lumpy foam pillow. She slid it between under her covers and ground it against the warmth between her legs, something she hadn't done in years.
At first, it was an unfocused lust, with her thoughts flickering between Emily and the odd fantasies she'd built over the years. Then, her mind caught on something deep in her memory, something she'd practically repressed. One of her earliest memories of masturbating, when she'd stuck a pillow under her shirt to pretend she was pregnant. An irrational turn on, one that somehow transitioned to her grinding herself silly.
She was doing it again, thinking about Adam's comment about getting curves. Her comment about a growth spurt. How good it felt to pretend she was a full, swollen breeder.
She came hard enough to finally pass out, into equally horny dreams.
