What a rotten day! What happened to 'the best years of your life'? I thought being eighteen was supposed to be everything a girl could ever want. Well my life sure proved that theory wrong. Dad had left Mom back in August for a bitch that was almost young enough to be my sister. And for the first couple of months he'd actually acted like he thought I could like that whore! And then they had moved. Somewhere out west, I think. We hadn't heard from him since. I guess he deposited the support directly into Mom's account until a few weeks ago when I turned eighteen. And then that stopped, too.
And don't get me started on the boyfriend situation. Or rather the lack of boyfriend. There were not too many guys my age that I was willing to spend my time with. Most of them had proved that the only thing they were interested in was what was between my legs. I'll admit it was something I had thought about until just a week ago. But before I could decide which of the few reasonably decent guys I'd dated would be the right one to fuck me, my best friend, Ginger, did it with her then boyfriend, Craig. What a jerk! He'd been pushing her to do it for weeks and finally, the day after she turned eighteen, they'd gone to a show and on the way home stopped at one of the local 'parking lots'. When she said yes he shoved her into the back seat and all but tore her clothes off. He'd spent all of twenty or thirty seconds sucking on her nipples before shoving his cock into her. It hurt like hell and she screamed for him to stop. He did, just a minute or two later, but not before he came in her bleeding pussy. He got really mad at her for making him stop and made her dress in the back seat while he was driving her home. He told her she was a frigid bitch and that he never wanted to see her again. He didn't even walk her to the door, just stopped and told her to get her ass out of his car.
When Ginger told me the next day, I decided I was never going to have sex. I was never going to let any jerk treat me like that. Mom has been trying to cheer me up for a week. She says Craig is a stupid jerk, but that not all guys are such assholes. I don't know if she wants me to have sex or not. I don't think she knows. She stammers and stutters about waiting for the right guy and she encourages me to 'enjoy my youth'. But she got me on the pill when I turned fifteen, to 'regulate my period', but I'm pretty sure even then she wanted to be sure I didn't get pregnant.
Too bad Ginger's mom didn't do that! Yesterday she told me she is definitely knocked up. Her mom is furious and is talking about an abortion and trying to make Craig pay for it. So much for the 'best years of our lives'. Mom seems to be almost as upset as I am, but that doesn't help much.
"I'm home, Mom."
"I'm in the kitchen, Sharon. Did you have a good day?"
"Well, at least it didn't suck as bad as yesterday. Ginger's still a wreck and every guy in the school seems to know what happened. Craig's story is that she's 'the worst piece he ever had'. What a jerk! What about you, Mom? How was your day?"
"I went grocery shopping. I ran into Tom. You remember the guy who's wife left him for the firefighter a year or so ago? We talked for a minute or two. He's pretty nice. I should have supper ready in a few minutes."
"Ok. I'll be in my room. I've got a lot of homework."
The next day was pretty much a repeat. The guys are all creeps and Ginger is still a wreck. We just sit in the bathroom and cry between classes. 'The best years of our lives.' Yeah, right!
"I'm home, Mom."
"I'm in the kitchen, Sharon. Did you have a good day?"
"As good as it can get, I guess. At least I don't have any homework."
"Oh, that's good. You remember I told you I'd seen Tom at the store yesterday? Well he called this morning and then came over for coffee. He's coming back this evening to spend some time with us, sort of like a coach for you. I think, from what he said, that he can help you feel better, you know, not so depressed and frustrated. He'll be here around seven, so after we eat we should go up and take showers. I've laid out some clothes for you to wear."
"Really, Mom? Showers? You need to 'lay out clothes' for me? Really?"
"Sharon, do you trust me?"
"Well, yeah!"
"Have I ever done anything to ..."
"Okay, Mom! Okay! I'll shower! I'll wear the clothes you laid out!"
She gave me a quick hug. "Supper's almost ready."
After supper we went up to our rooms. Mom has her own bathroom, so we both showered and when I got back to my room I was a little surprised by what she had laying on my bed. I mean the blouse was pretty much a normal blouse, sleeveless and fitted with half a dozen ordinary buttons. The jeans were one of my newer pair, snug, but not what you'd call real tight. But the underwear she'd laid out surprised me. I'd only worn them a couple of times. They're a pale blue matching set. The panties are as close to a thong as she'll let me wear and the bra is unpadded lace and fastens with one little plastic thing in front. Standing in front of the mirror I know I look really hot. The bra is cut low enough that it just barely covers my nipples and if I hadn't trimmed my pussy hair it would be showing around the little patch of lace. And then I remember I'm dressing this way for Tom! What can she be thinking? I quickly pull on my jeans and slip into my blouse. In just a few minutes you can't tell what's hidden under them. I mean I still look good. The blouse is fitted, so my 32Bs are still there and the jeans are snug, so the legs are still ...
There's the doorbell. It's seven o'clock.
"Come on, Sharon, let's go down. That must be Tom."
Mom's blouse and jeans look almost identical to mine. I think she's a 34B, but other than that, we could almost be sisters.
"Wow, Mom, you look hot! Are you making a play for this guy?"
"No, silly! I just thought we should both look nice." She opens the front door. "Hi, Tom. Come in. You remember Sharon."
"Hi, Susan." He gives her a peck on the cheek. "Hi, Sharon. Goodness, you two look like sisters!"
I know he's older, but I have to admit he's pretty good looking. I can understand Mom wanting to put the move on him. We go into the living room and Tom sits in the easy chair and we sit on the couch.
"Did your mom tell you why I was coming over this evening, Sharon?"
"Uh, she said something about coaching. She thinks you can help me feel better or something, I guess." I had actually forgotten that, had thought more about her hooking up with him, maybe.
"Okay, Sharon, let me see if I can explain. When I saw your mom at the store yesterday she was really upset because you are upset. And we both realize you have a very good reason to be upset. Your friend has been treated really badly. And it doesn't sound like her parents are doing anything to help her feel any better. But here's the thing. She isn't the one responsible for the really bad sex. BUT, and this is really important, she could have prevented it. If she had known how to satisfy him and how to satisfy herself, she could have made sure it was good for both of them. The thing is he had his hormones going and probably so did she and apparently neither of them knew what they were doing. It's a really bad situation, but it's way too common with young people your age. See sex can, and should, be really, really good, but it requires that at least one of you knows what you're doing. Your friend's boyfriend had probably watched some porn and heard some talk in the locker room and thought he knew all he needed. And that's not enough for a girl's first time. Her first time needs to be with someone who not only knows how to be sure it's good for her, it needs to be with someone who really, truly cares about her and about how she feels, not someone who's just excited about getting laid. It needs to be with someone she really trusts."
This is feeling really weird. I mean this guy is sounding like some kind of counselor or coach or something. I look at Mom and she's smiling and nodding her head!
"Who do you know, Sharon," he continues, "that feels that way about you? Who do you know that cares as much, maybe even more, about how you feel than about how they feel? Who do you know that you can really trust?"
"My mom?"
"I hope so. I hope you can trust your mom. Do you think you can trust me?"
"I --- I don't know?"
"That's right. You don't know, because you really don't know me very well. But you know your mom and you trust your mom and your mom cares about how you feel doesn't she? Your mom wouldn't do anything that would hurt you, would she?"
Mom is still smiling, still nodding her head. "No, she wouldn't."
"Okay, so the only person you should be having sex with right now is your mom. Because she's the only person you are really sure cares about you and how you feel. She is the only person you can really trust. Isn't that right?"
"Mom?" She's still smiling, still nodding her head.
"The problem, Sharon, is that your mom doesn't have a cock. But I do. So your mom and I together are going to teach you everything you need to know about sex. And your mom and I are going to have sex with you. Your mom because you can trust her and she cares about how you feel, me because I have the cock she doesn't have."
"Mom?"
"Sharon, I really think this is the best thing we can do for you. You do trust me don't you? You do know that I care more about how you feel than about how I feel, don't you?"
I really don't know what to think. I know Mom loves me, but ...
"Do you trust me, Baby?"
I nod my head. "Yes, Mom." Just barely a whisper. I can hear Bob letting out his breath.
"Okay, Sharon, probably the most important thing about really good sex is to just take your time. So rather than one person tearing the clothes off the other, or even each person just pulling off their own clothes, what we're going to do is undress each other - very slowly."
This is really weird! "Mom?"
"Please trust me, Baby. This is really important for you. Okay? Can you trust me?"
"Okay, Mom."
"Susan, why don't you come over here and we'll start by taking off your shirt."
Mom and Bob stand up and she steps over to him. He kisses her lightly on the lips and whispers something to her. She turns and looks at me and Bob kisses her on her neck and then he starts to play with her tits! Oh my god! I'm sitting here watching Bob feel up my mom! I guess she likes it. Her head is back on his shoulder and he's kissing her throat while he rubs her nipples through the blouse. Then he starts unbuttoning the blouse, the bottom button first and up to the top one. As the front of her blouse falls open, Bob starts playing with her tits again. I can't believe I'm watching this! He pulls the blouse off her shoulders and tosses it onto the easy chair, Mom turns around and he actually kisses her tits right on the top edge of her bra! And then he kisses her on the mouth. It looks like they're trying to swallow each other's tongues! Bob whispers to her again and sits back down.
Mom turns to me and holds out her hands. "Come here, Baby. Let's take off your blouse now."
"Mom!"
"Sharon, you said you trusted me, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Come here."
I walk the few feet to Mom and she turns me to face Bob. I feel her hand move up the front of my blouse to the bottom of my boobs before Bob stops her.
