CHAPTER 1
I lay naked on the bed, the cover still smooth and unwrinkled. The curtains were drawn and the morning sun streamed into the room making it light, warm and friendly. The pink tones of the room with the maroon and royal blue trimmings giving the space a friendly slightly feminine feel.
Physically I was completely sated. Drained.
I had just experienced the most mind blowing sex of my young life. I was sweaty, covered in melted butter and human love juices. I lay waiting for my love.
Allow me to fill you in on some of the history.
My parents started divorce proceedings when I was fourteen years old.
I found it very traumatic, the foundation of my life being torn from under me overnight. I knew my parents had issues but it never occurred to me that they would separate. Returning home from school one day my Mom and Dad were waiting for me. This was unusual as Dad was always at work during the day.
I looked at them both through an outsider's eyes.
John was tall, broad shouldered, slightly stooped as though apologising for his height and very slender. He was clean-shaven, kept his hair shot and habitually wore casual jeans and open necked shirts. Along with his casual appearance he was easy going, loved to joke and was always talking to strangers.
My mother, on the other hand, was of medium height, plump and large breasted. She always wore tailored trouser suits, usually in shades of grey and black. Diana, not ever to be confused with Dianne, never ventured out of her bedroom without makeup and her hair perfectly in place. She hated any impromptu event.
"Come and sit down. We need to talk to you," my father said. After a few minutes he looked at me and said, "I am separating from your mother. I want you to understand that it is not your fault. I will always be there if you need me." My mother snorted loudly whereupon my father rose, hugged me and left. I did not see him again for six years.
John did try to contact me. Regularly at first, and then less and less as time passed and I ignored his calls. I was so angry and hurt that he would, could leave me. Leave us. That he was able to remove all the fun and adventure from my life. My mother kept fuelling the anger.
"He just abandoned us."
"He pays for nothing."
"He hates you."
The divorce was long and bitter. At that time I knew none of the details, only that Mom was always in tears with red eyes and blotchy face. She never missed an opportunity to run John down with anyone that would listen, especially me. Our circle of friends grew steadily smaller until the only houseguests were bitter old women-friends who had gone through the same process.
During this period Mom looked after me. I could see she was trying to compensate for the family falling apart. Her whole life centred around me, being Moms Taxi, cooking my favourite food, spoiling me with gifts. She took no time out for herself.
My school grades suffered with my lack of interest and self pity. I grew introspective and avoided my old friends until one day, six months after the separation, my English teacher asked me to stay after class.
Mrs Hardakre was a veteran teacher equally hated and loved by her students, always respected. She was strict but fair and very outspoken. She had also been a houseguest while my parents were together.
"Sit down and stop fidgeting," she instructed without looking up. I had been hovering near her desk, bag in hand, and shifting my weight from foot to foot. I sat and waited, wondering what sin I had committed. Not that I cared. Life was in a vacuum and I was looking in as though from afar.
After a while she laid her pencil down and looked up, her eyes meeting mine in a hard stare. "Your grades have dropped. You do not complete your homework. You have stopped playing sport. Your personal hygiene has deteriorated. You have stopped mixing with your peers. Worst of all, you don't seem to care."Mrs Hardakre continued to meet my stare.
Never one to beat about the bush she continued, "I know you have been having a hard time since your parents separated and that your mother rams your father's desertion down your throat at every opportunity. You are not the first sibling to be affected by a separation and divorce. There are hundreds in this school alone, and they all get on with their lives. I don't say that it is easy, or ideal, but life does go on." She paused and looked out of the window. "You are fifteen years old. This is the time for fun, for mischief. For physical and mental adventures. For learning about girls." She looked back and caught my startled expression and I blushed.
"Just because I am getting old doesn't mean that I don't understand these things. I have taught thousands of young men in my time and I know what life for them is about. About puberty and raging hormones."
After a pause she continued, "As you know I was friends with your parents before their separation. Especially your father. I have been in regular contact with him since then, keeping him updated with your progress. Your mother as well, but all she ever wants to tell me was what a bad man your father is, not how good you are. The difference is that John approaches me for news, Diana not. He is worried about you."
I could feel tears start and I blinked rapidly to try to keep them at bay.
