I don't think I was a day past fifteen when I heard my parents' first argument. It was a huge shock, really... Mother took extraordinary care of the house and still managed to work while dad was constantly out, trying to earn money to make his wife happy. I was raised innocently, which I don't regret to this day, but I didn't understand what mom "cheated" dad out of then.
Now, I can't say I blamed her. He was gone so long that she either had to please herself or go to other people. She worked just as hard as my father, except she managed to keep everyone happy until he found out. Instead of sitting to talk, his first reaction was probably the most explosive I've seen out of any Christian man.
I heard the smack from a few rooms down. I heard the silence and knew he had hit her... All I could feel was tension and worry. Fear kept me rooted in place but care for my mother led my hand to my doorknob. Dad's last words still echo now and then... "I didn't spend a decade providing for this family just to have a slut of a wife commit adultery!" A metal object, the wedding ring, hit a wall and he left.
I couldn't hear the sobs over the roaring engine... It took me the longest thirty seconds of my life to hear my mother sobbing, and that snapped me to reality. You couldn't blink in the time it took me to get down the entire hallway to reach her, finding her bent over and sobbing into her pillows. All I could do was crawl on the bed and try to pull her up to me. It was the exact same thing she'd done for me as a child during my state of tears. It was my turn to let her cry her heart out into me.
I may have been too innocent then to know what cheating was, but thank God I was mature enough to know how to comfort her. I didn't ask what was wrong, and I didn't wonder what she may have done wrong. All I did was hug her and pet through her hair as she let it all out, trying to offer the same comfort she raised me with.
It took thirty minutes before the tears dried up... or ran out, I wasn't sure which. I do remember an hour of her whimpering and asking herself "Why?" before I started to pull back, sinking into the dry pillows with her still in my arms. Once she got on her side and curled up, I pulled the blankets over us and cut out the lights. Once I got in with her, she hugged me like a teddy bear against her, and I didn't notice just how far I sunk into her arms. "Thank you, sweetheart..."
I wrapped my arms around hers to keep the hug in place and smiled as her body molded around mine. "It's okay, mommy... I won't leave you."
I woke up with a wet spot in my hair... Even today, I never asked if those tears were happy or sad.
Six months passed. If I was a momma's boy before, it was even worse now. I knew she was sad all the time, so I never left her side except when she had to work or I had school. The first few weeks were scary for how much silence there was. Then I found mother keeping me close when she could, which I was happy to be. I was her pillar of support, since dad never even came back to get as much as one piece of clothing.
I do credit him on being honest and decent enough to not destroy the family further. He yanked out all his money from his savings and his share from the family's checking, leaving mom only with what she herself had earned. To be honest, it wasn't much. The plan was to use dad's savings for retirement and mom's for the home. He could have taken everything, but he left with what was his... It still put us in a tricky spot.
One day, she finally came out and told me everything. She hugged me into her soft lap and rested my head under hers. "Honey... We're about short on money after Sean left, and... well, he left because I broke a promise. When two people get married, they promise to love only each other forever, and he wasn't around to show it for me, so I needed it from someone else."
Bear in mind, I was still innocent. I looked up at her and asked, "What about me? You know I love you, mom."
She laughed and squeezed me 'til I couldn't help but laugh at something I missed. "I meant... sexually. You're growing up, Jeff, you'll learn what an urge is soon enough. You'll make a lady happy, too. But I need to keep you happy, and that will mean a lot more work for me... I'm sorry, baby."
That was the last day of my childhood. Back then, I was 4'6", 115 pounds, thin with long light brown hair, hazel eyes and no tan whatsoever. Mom was 5'8" and about 315 pounds. I never really thought of her as fat, just soft. I grew in love with being close to her because of that. Now and then doing laundry I'd see things like "54FF" or "52FFF" on her clothes, not knowing what they meant.
It took me less than one year to mature. At sixteen I was working to make sure mom didn't bear the weight alone. I made sure to learn to do everything dad could: drive, cook, work, plan, and care. A world of responsibilities fell on my shoulders, and I took them so my mom wouldn't have to share them alone.
She put up a fight on how much I got away with taking responsibility for. She didn't want me being who the family was dependant on. Me working for her happiness helped bring her out of the rut she was in. It felt good to finally see her smiling more than just when I gave her a hug.
It wasn't until the next school year, though, that I started to understand arousal. I wound up sitting to the next girl in three of my six classes. She didn't have a body that made everybody stare, but she was healthy, voluptuous, kind, and funny. I couldn't help but feel attracted to her as more than a friend... It scared me, but my first time running away with my imagination, I thought I'd even give up watching over mom just to be with Kelly.
Once I started understanding the feeling of wanting to be together, I started nudging mom to do the same. Literally. I'd never noticed, but every piece of clothing she wore showed off the curves of her butt and chest while showing that her waist was tucked in... a true hourglass despite her size. It didn't change how I looked at her, but it did assure me that she could do well in the world as I gently nudged my elbow to her arm. "Mom, you're too beautiful to be alone. You're a great mother and person, you can find someone else."
She sighed at my first, and for a while last, attempt. She hugged me tight, letting me sink into her softness as she smiled. "I know you mean well, honey, but I'm still not over it... I'll look as soon as I'm able."
That was enough for me. She never lied, so I knew she'd go through with it. I hugged her back and smiled, staying attached until I had to go to work.
It turned out to be nearly another year before she was ready. I was seventeen by then, and I grew a full foot. With it, though, I only gained weight to 140 pounds. At least my build was average, so I was proud of myself on not being too skinny like I used to be. Mom, however, didn't grow an inch up. Instead she grew outward, reading about 360 pounds. It wasn't an unhealthy weight, she ate extremely well. It was just a slowed metabolism, we thought.
It only made her look more attractive, really. I noticed that her bosom got larger and her butt stuck out just a bit more, but she still maintained a control with her body that kept her from looking any bit grotesque. I couldn't explain it, but I felt the same physical arousal for mom as I did for Kelly, whom I had dated for four months.
That relationship was constant, but like any first love, it was fading. The friendship wasn't, but both Kelly and I realized it would turn into a struggle to make it more than dating. So we gracefully backed out of it and I never got aroused for anyone... except mom.
I always wanted, tried, and succeeded in ignoring it. I was her son, I was there to help her out and keep her safe and cared for. But in the four months I had Kelly, she went through two boyfriends. David was a fat (no way around it) slob who just happened to be romantic enough to sweet talk. Orlando was almost the opposite: fit, direct, affectionate, but too serious for mom to enjoy being with.
Then, when I was eighteen and she hit forty-two, it happened. She found Joseph. He was romantic, sweet, tender, and tried to spoil mom in more ways than I could imagine. His only problem was patience. Him and mom made it a year, all the way to my graduation, but the entire trip was bumpy in that Joseph wanted to advance, quickly.
"Please, marry me, Alice." I heard that request more times than I could stand... "When's our "special night", honey? I'm still waiting for you to get..." I'd always shut him out when I heard it, I hated hearing him talk to my mother like she was ready for sex. She believed in chastity before her first marriage, that was how she felt for the second.
She and I could endure, though. He appeared okay for everything until my graduation. One week after my graduation, late at night when he said the wrong thing in an attempt for romance. "When's junior here going to leave so we can be alone? I want to sit my own babies." He jerked his thumb at me, since I was in the chair watching TV with him and mom.
I wasn't immensely irritated, but mom was. She pointed a finger at him so fast that it left her whole chest jiggling against her shirt. "Don't you talk like you're going to kick him out. He's helped this family stay up, so he's going to stay."
Joseph held his hands up and gave a cocky, half-guilty smile. "Relax, honey. I didn't mean—"
Mom stood straight up and looked him straight in the eye as he got up. "Yes you did, you can't be quiet about wanting me for yourself. You either let me be happy or—"
Joseph didn't take kindly to being interrupted. He took worse to being ordered and rejected. My eyes snapped open as I heard two slaps at once... One was when his hand connected with mom's face. One was the echo of my dad doing the same thing.
