Have you ever done something unexpected- something that honestly surprised yourself? You know what I mean...
I have never considered myself an adventurous woman. I'm quiet, bookish. A typical "librarian" archetype, complete with glasses and mousy-brown hair pulled back into a tight bun, as you can see. Oh, I won't lie and say that I have never had the urge to skinny-dip in the river, or flash my breasts to a truck-driver trying to get him to honk. Its just that my entire life, I've been the one who had the urges but would never DO those things. Have you?
I'm shy, socially awkward. I married a shy, socially awkward man. He eventually left me for a wild, sexually forward woman named 'Nancy'. Nancy Fancy...Bitch. I haven't missed him since. His parting words to me were: "Joyce, you need to cut loose... get wild. The bookworm bullshit just got too old. Look at Nance.. that woman knows how to let go." And he was right. I merely hadn't found the proper means to ease myself into the transition of...well, letting things come easily. And my husband certainly had not helped... in fact, I can not recall very many truly happy or romantic moments within my marriage. It was as if truthfully didn't feel like trying to urge my adventurous, lusty side out.
Utter bullshit. Don't get me wrong, I don't regret it... Ted and I produced a beautiful, wonderful boy from our union. He even paid the child support faithfully until Gary turned eighteen. I suppose I have no true complaints about my former marriage, and my current lack thereof. Ted really was a nice guy. And I HAD been a prude. But there were so many things he could have done...Oh God... throw me down, take me, crush me, show me how good it can be. I'd wanted him to, but he never had. And of course, I could never ask for something like that... that's not how I am.
So here I am, forty-three, single, a "mousy librarian" living in a modest apartment with my son. Well, modest and tasteful... you know me. It is lavishly decorated to suit my taste, art nouveau, an occasional odd piece, such as the tribal fertility goddess next to my armchair, or the modernistic iron lovers on my coffee table.
Gary particularly hates the lovers, as they obstruct his view when he is watching television, or playing his video games or whatever. He is twenty now, attending college full time. I have no complaints about him living at home, in fact, without him, I think it would be rather lonely.
And here I am... off on a tangent. What was I speaking about? Oh yes, adventure. I can see the laughter in your eyes as I pronounce the word "adventure". You don't see it in me... ah, I don't mind. Most people don't see it. Gary, on the other hand saw something different... can you keep a secret?
Lean closer, I don't want anyone else to hear. I'm only telling you this because you've mentioned similar topics to me, and... I just really would like to tell someone what I've been doing, and... maybe enjoy it. You can keep a secret, can't you?
Oh, I don't know where to start... I work as teacher's aid, so usually Gary gets home from school shortly before I do. My life is filled with unchanging routine. It is how it has always been. My general routine is to walk through the door, throw my books on the table, kick my heels across the kitchen floor and yell at the cat. Without fail, Gary is always playing some video game or another when I get home, his eyes glued to the television set like a zombie. And this was the routine. Sometime, a few weeks ago... it changed slightly. All of the sudden one day when I got home, Gary was sitting in the armchair, watching the door when I came in, television off. I'd noticed him, for the past month or so, looking at me strangely. I was beginning to wonder if he was upset with me for some reason.
"Hi Mom," he said. "You know... I've been thinking. You are really an attractive woman. There is no reason you should still be single."
I was taken aback at the statement, and even more surprised when he casually added, "You really could be sexy mom. I see it."
I set my purse down on the table, blinking to clear my head. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, that my own son disapproved of my status as a single woman, and moreso that he thought I should be 'sexy'. I glanced over at my son, and he had the strangest look on his face. He glanced at me lengthily, as if taking me completely in before he rose from the chair and approached me. My own feet were planted in the kitchen... It was almost as if I was afraid to step into the same room as my own son. Needless to say, the fear did not subside as he advanced toward me.
Gary reached forward and helped me take off my suit jacket. He hung it on the back of a chair and his eyes returned to me, noticeably taking in my breasts through the white silk of my blouse. Blushing, I took a step backward and made a comment about what I was going to make for supper. He ignored me, reaching a single finger forward to lightly trace the underside of my left breast. A tingle of excitement rushed through my entire body, and I pushed his hand harshly away, stepping past him and locking myself in the bathroom until I regained my senses. Looking into the mirror, I wondered why my own son had done such a thing... and moreso what that tinge of excitement I had felt had been. Why was my heart beating so quickly? I emerged from the bathroom as I heard Gary go to his room and close the door. I fixed supper, and the rest of the night proceeded in accordance with the proper routine.