I never seemed to have any luck with men. I had many relationships over the years but they never worked out. I always seemed to be attracted to the wrong kind of man. I liked the 'bad boy' type and it was always ended up the same, great at first, lots of fun in bed but there always seemed to be a catch. Either his idea of rough sex included me ending up with a black eye, or his idea of having a few drinks turned out to be every night and until he passed out, puked up or made a complete fool out of himself, sometimes all three.
Then there was the one who stole all my money for gambling and not forgetting the guy that was always getting in fights and often spending a night in custody.
Oh and there had been that guy who I don't think in the whole month that we dated that I had ever seen when he wasn't stoned. I just couldn't pick the right guy. I wanted someone who was exciting but not crazy, dominant but not cruel, experimental but not a perverted, loving but not soppy. I guess I just didn't want the goody goody type but all the guys I thought might be my Mr. Right ended up being totally wrong. I was starting to think the man I was looking for didn't exist.
The only good thing that came out of all these failed relationships was my son.
It wasn't a good thing at the time, totally unplanned and unwanted. I was 25 and having the time of my life, dating lots of men and even some women, experimenting with threesomes and group sex, even some mild BDSM and of course always going after the type of men that you wouldn't bring home to meet your mother.
His name was James and I thought he was a God. Actually I when I think back now, so did he.
We lived together for 6 months and I did love him. He taught me a lot about the world of domination and submission. He was my Master and I was his willing sub, I adored him and was willing to obey anything and everything he ordered me to do. The sex was great, I was so happy, everything was going good. I was living the life I wanted........I had a hot boyfriend, parties all the time, sex day and night, and he was a good Master.......strong and dominant, nasty but not cruel, he knew just how far to push me and rewarded me when I pleased him.
But then something happened that did not please my Master at all. I got pregnant. I was of course on the pill, but with all these parties, sometimes I drank too much and threw up and it didn't matter to James if I was hung over. When he wanted sex, which was every day, he got it. I would never dare say no and I'm sure if I did, he would just take me anyway. I guess that's how it happened and James had told me his feelings on children, he didn't want any. I think it was more he wasn't prepared to have his sub give anyone else any attention. There was no way he wanted a share of my attention, for him it was 100% 24/7.
I was terrified to tell him, I thought he might beat the shit out of me. Although he had never hurt me in anger or beaten me before, our sex was always rough and aggressive and I didn't know what he was capable of if I was to ever make him mad. So I didn't tell him, I needed some time to try and figure out what to do. So I just pretended to be drinking when we were at parties, I would say it was vodka and orange when in fact it was straight juice. I got away with my pretence for 3 months, but I was starting to show and he was giving me a hard time for putting on weight and was starting to get suspicious about my behavior. Then one night he confronted me. I guess he worked it out that I hadn't had a period in awhile. I broke down in tears and confessed, telling him how much I loved him and that I wanted his baby. But tears never worked with him during Dom/sub sessions so why I thought they would now....I don't know.
He didn't hit me but he was angry at me and demanded I get rid of it or move out. I was too far gone to even consider an abortion and even if I wasn't, I really wanted my baby. So with a broken heart and very little else, I left him.
I went up north to this small town close to a beach and spent the next five years surviving on a benefit and devoting all my time and energy to my son. I named him Jimmy because even after all that happened I still had feelings for his father. I never dated in those first five years and would spend my time at night while my son slept writing in a journal, putting down in words all my memories of the times I had with James, all the parties, the sex, every nasty detail of the things he would do to me and how it made me feel. I missed him but each time I looked at my beautiful son, I knew I had made the right decision.
I missed the sex too, but I had brought my vibrator and some of my sex toys with me when I had left him, so for now I had my memories of all my sexual adventures and that helped a lot when I would masturbate at night while my son slept.
Once my boy was almost 5, I decided to move to a bigger town so that he could go to a better school and meet more people and I could get a part time job. So we started a new life and I started dating again. That was when I began to meet loser after loser. I don't know what it was; it was like I was a magnet for every no-hoper man in a 100 mile radius!
Some of them lasted a few months before things went sour and some it was a matter of weeks before they showed their true colors and I woke up to realize he wasn't what I needed in my life. I guess what I really wanted was a man just like James only one that was prepared to take on a woman that already had a son. Pretty much an impossible task.
It didn't help that I still found the 'bad boy' kind of guy attractive, I did try dating some 'nice' guys a few times but whenever I suggested the kind of bedroom games I liked, they all seemed to be freaked out by it and that was the end of that.
Sometimes there would be a year or more in-between relationships, I would give up on men and just concentrate on my son and my job, but then I would meet someone else and there would be that hope that this one would be Mr. Right and I would try again. Apart from the fact I was missing a sexual partner in my life, I was also hoping to one day meet someone that could be a father for Jimmy. He was a great kid and seemed really happy and was never a problem but I just felt that maybe he needed a father figure. He had asked about his dad over the years and I had just told him that I loved his dad but it had just not worked out, I didn't have the heart to tell him that his father didn't want him, at least not yet, maybe when he was older.
The years went by and I wasn't getting any younger, I was starting to feel me and my
vibe should get married because not much chance of me ever getting lucky.
But I wasn't really unhappy, my relationship with my son was great, we were like best friends and even though he was now a teenager, he was never one of those boys that got embarrassed to be seen out in public with his mother. We would go to the movies and do stuff together. Sometimes we would even bump into his school friends when we were out and even then, he didn't seem to mind being caught out on a 'date' with his mother and he always introduced me to his mates. I often felt like he wanted to feel like he was the man of the house and it was his job to look after me even though I had never suggested it or put any kind of pressure on him to take on such a responsibility.
So now that Jimmy was 18, I was starting to wonder when he was going to start bringing girls home. He was a good looking boy, much like his father in a lot of ways....tall, dark and handsome and sometimes as I lay in my bed with my vibe in my hand, I would wonder if he was well hung like his father too. But I was growl at myself for having such thoughts, and then read a few pages of my journal to bring back those memories of the bedroom games I used to play and masturbate before sleep.
I knew that Jimmy masturbated a lot too, because of course I did all his washing, but that's kind of normal for a boy of his age. The only thing I wondered about was who he was thinking about when he played with himself and whether he might ever bring this girl home to meet his mother.
I had no idea that in fact, I was the subject of his masturbation fantasies.
It was puzzling me a little how, when I did my laundry that I would often find some of my panties in there that I couldn't remember wearing that week, but it was a trivial thing and I passed it off as I must be losing it.....all those brain cells I killed during my hard out party days!
Other things starting happening, little things that by themselves didn't really mean much, but there was a pattern forming and I guess even though it was right in front of my face, I couldn't see it.
Jimmy started to work out a lot and he wouldn't do it in the privacy of his room, he took his weights into the lounge and he would do his exercises without a shirt on, in fact he very rarely wore anything on his top half while at home.
He would always want to show me how his arms were getting muscles and of course I would squeeze them and give him lots of praise. I figured he must be trying to impress some cute girl at school, but I didn't pry. I was so stupid, I did not know that all of this was for me. He wanted me to look at him, to notice he wasn't a little boy anymore.
When I was out he would sneak in my room and look through my underwear and lingerie and sometimes he would take a pair of my panties to masturbate with. When I think back now with all the hints he was trying to give me, I must have been blind not to pick up on any of them.
