Tried to Mae Me Go to Rehab

Just a word of warning: I'm not known for jumping right into the action. My stories tend to take a bit to get to the "good" parts. And this one particularly is even lighter on direct action. It's just a little idea I was playing with. Short in length and light on action. This likely means it's not for everyone... and that's okay by me. So, enjoy if you enjoy this sort of thing and if not- well, there are tons of other stories here. Enjoy reading those instead.

*****

"Yeah, you know I'm not giving you shit for shit's sake, right?"

"I know. I know. And you're right. It's just a ... bummer," I replied.

"You were about to say buzzkill?" Lauren said as she gently punched me in the shoulder.

"Yeah. Irony or accuracy. But yeah. I get it," as I put up my fists in mock-defense. "My mother always warned me that I had what she called 'an addictive personality' so I needed to be careful."

"Well, I don't know about that slugger, but I'm just saying that you've been hitting it a little hard lately. And not like big weekend party hard. More like drinking enough for a weekend in one evening without noticing or intending to." Lauren leaned into my shoulder and curled her feet under her butt as we sat on the sofa.

"I see that. I mean, I've always been keeping an eye out, but it didn't feel like I was overdoing it on any one night. It was just sort of every night," I admitted.

"That's all I'm saying. I mean, if you want to cut back you could do just weekends. Or just at social events. Or just when we're out. And it would be totally fine, I think. But, I've just noticed you drinking without thinking."

"Which works in college. I mean, the limits were pretty clear there, right. I either couldn't afford to drink too much, or poor class performance would kick me in the ass. Somehow the workplace hasn't been like that."

"The rules are just different. As long as you perform at work and pay your rent, why not have a half bottle of scotch after dinner? But the problem is that you're kind of not noticing that it's a half bottle a night every night. So that's where I got a little worried."

"And I thank you for that."

"Yeah, I'm sure," she chuckled.

"No, seriously. I appreciate it."

"I don't want to ride you like an asshole. I don't want to be THAT girl. I just want you to be safe and around for the long haul. I'm pretty invested in the long haul, you know?"

"I do. And that's why I love you. Okay, one of the reasons I love you."

"And my ass, right? It's always the ass," she pouted. Then smiled.

"See, you know me so well. I mean, I was wanting to say 'your tits' but we both know that it's really your ass."

"A match made."

"Absolutely. Now what are we going to do about this week?"

"What? You've got drinking obligations that you are worried about giving up?" she said.

"No, smart - but cute- ass. The other thing," I said turning sideways on the couch to wrap her in my arms as I leaned back.

"Oh, you mean the week where you've invited your mother to stay with us and all the ways that means that you are unlikely to 'get some' in the kitchen-"

"-or bathroom. Or living room," I clarified. "Or, even very loudly in the bedroom."

"You do make those cute little noises don't you?"

"Men prefer to think of those noises as gruff and animalistic," I corrected. "Not so much with the cute. But yeah. So, any plans?"

"Well, I figured I'd keep it in my pants for a week and just get by."

"Oh sure. Show off your restraint. Or your lack of attraction to me. Whatevs."

"Hey there. Libido in the soaring high percentiles over here, boyfriend," she wiggled her fingers at her very cute grin. "You think it's going to be easy on me and my lonely bits?"

"Well, your bits aren't exactly likely to burst the zipper on your pants, right? I mean, a little dampness in the worst case. That's not going to work for me."

"Not the same. Yeah, I see that. But, then again, you'll already be living the no-booze cruise, so maybe this'll be your monastic meditation retreat week."

"That'll totally work. Because, of course, you'll be wearing a nun's habit and never say or do anything sexual in my presence. You notice how this is a bad week for me to be going all abstinence only, right? Ever seen the movie Airplane?"

"Hmmm, nuns. I could probably manage a nun's habit, but you know I'd rock it. Then you'd get all kinky and into Sister Mary Alice's ass."

"As we've discussed."

"Then we'd have to explain to your mom why you're sodomizing a nun during her visit. While making those cute little noises. Maybe in the kitchen." Lauren grinned and reached out to, strangely enough, tug on my ear. It was cute.

"This is getting complicated. And kind of dire. Maybe this isn't the best week to stop drinking."

I mean, yes, it's reasonable to say sobriety is good for having the control to not molest my girlfriend at an awkward time. But, it's also true that if you take away all my vices at once I might be a grumpy gus.

"Maybe, it's not the best week," she agreed. "But let's work on it. I mean, I'll try to be good. And besides, I'm sure that your mom will keep us occupied with things to do. You'll probably not even be in the mood by the end of the day."

"Yeah, I don't know that that will work. Maybe we could look into gags? Does the bed squeak so you'd notice when the door's closed?"

"Nice. I like where your head's at," she replied. "C'mere and kiss me improviser."

Lauren rolled over and slid up my body. I nodded my head forward to catch her kiss. My hand slid down her back catching at the waist of her jeans. As she ran her tongue between my lips and her fingers through my hair, I traced the line between denim and skin. Man, I love that little bit of exposure between bits of clothing. Mostly at the waist, but I'll allow cleavage too. Hell, even on occasion between ankle and shoe. In short, that exposure of previously covered flesh can be exciting. That revelation of hidden things. And if I get to touch it too? Well... in that case-

My honey scrunched up further on the couch and on me. My hands roamed under her white t-shirt brushing against the band of her bra. Lauren kissed her way from my lips to my cheek to my ear lobe. She pursed her lips around the lobe and nibbled lightly. It tickled but in the way that you don't protest. She opened her mouth and her warm breath anticipated that she was about to whisper something. I held her to me with one arm while the roaming hand worked the clasp on her bra.

"So, boyfriend. Think you've got time to get me off before we have company?"

"Won't know until we try," I responded as her bra sprang loose under her t-shirt. I slid both hands under her shirt and lifted. Lauren raised her hands over her head in a decidedly childlike pose for a decidedly adult situation. I chuckled. As I lifted the shirt to nipple level with her bra askew, the door bell rang. Of course.

"Fuck!"

"Or not, I guess," she shrugged while struggling to get her shirt down. I nearly fell off the couch.

"We can ignore-"

"No we can't dumbass. It's your mother," said the voice of sober reason. If it wasn't coming from my favorite girl I'd have said Fuck that Voice. But, in this case she was right.

Struggling to my feet, I called out, "Just a second!"

I adjusted my trousers as Lauren did something to less "just sexing" her hair. It wasn't working even though we'd really not gotten to the "sexing" bit yet.

I opened the door as my girl said, "Wait-."

I was obviously not paying close enough attention. The door swung open and Mom swooped in to give me a giant hug.

"Baby Boy! I've missed you. And, Lauren! You are definitely glad to see me."

I looked over my shoulder and saw what my mother saw. Lauren had managed to get her t-shirt down to her waist, but I hadn't given her time to re-clasp her bra. So, now she was in the awkward shuffle of trying to grin and cover the fact that she was unfettered. That might have been easier if she simply wasn't wearing a bra. Or a white t-shirt. But in context, it was clear that the bra was there, undone, and just accentuating the fact that we had been fooling around. Well. Okay, then.

"Hi Darla. Glad you could visit," she said. "Sorry about my... wardrobe. I was, uh. I was, just getting dressed and your son was a little quick on the draw."

"Well, that's a crime," Mom quipped. "I mean, not that he let me in, but I would hate to find out that you've connected yourself to a man with no sense of appropriate duration."

Mom could be saucy.

"Mother," I said as I grabbed her suitcase and closed the door behind her, "No wonder I don't invite you over more often."

"Darla, he's just fine in that department," Lauren added. "But, he doesn't think on his feet."

"Or his back?"

"You are a naughty one, aren't you?" my girlfriend laughed.

"Well, I can be, but come here and give me a hug. I've been hurling innuendo at you two when I should have been apologizing."

"Apologizing?" I asked.

Mom wrapped Lauren in a hug and as she pulled back her right arm circled my girl's waist and her left hand reached over and gently poked at unbound underboob.

"Clearly, you two were up to something fun and I got here before things wrapped up."

I blushed. Lauren laughed. She said, "Fair enough. But we're glad to see you all the same."

"Not THAT glad. Or maybe there's a chill in here. But regardless, honey, I'd want to get in or out of that bra. The clumping dangle is never comfortable, I find."

"So, Mom, how often do you find yourself half out of a bra when the doorbell rings?" I tartly added. I mean, she's all cavalier, but really.

"More often than you'd like me to say, Baby Boy. And, as I mention... uncomfortable. So don't give me a lotta lip. I know whereof I speak."

Lauren shook her head at my discomfort and my mother's obvious ease. "Well, if you insist," she said as she slipped her bra through the armholes of her Tee. I'm always amazed at that trick.

Mother looked over and golf clapped. She added, "You were in band weren't you?"

"First chair French Horn," as she produced a smooth cupped white piece that I was fond of when given the opportunity to choose. I mean, I'm a fan of all things-Lauren, but it's a nice bra.

"Would've taken you for a flautist," Mom mused.

"Nah. I fucked a flautist or two, but the French Horn was a cheaper rental so my folks went that route when I joined up." Lauren could give as good as she got in the naughty innuendo and outright ribaldry.

"Okay, so when are you two getting married?" Good Old Darla asked with one eyebrow raised. "Donnie why haven't you put a ring on it? This girl needs to be my daughter-in-law."

"You know, Mother, maybe we'll have that conversation some time that you're not fondling my girlfriend and making her strip down."

"I don't know, Don. If you think that's fondling, I might insist that Lauren here deserves better. A proper fondle has a good bit more enthusiasm. I just gave her a friendly poke."

"I see. So, you want to put your stuff away and have a beverage or will you just continue to embarrass me?"

"Oh honey, I can do both at the same time, but thanks for the hospitality."

Lauren walked Mom into the kitchen as I took her bag into the guest room. She said, "Right this way, Darla. Wine? Beer? Water? Soda? Embarrassed flop sweat of your too sensitive son?"

They settled at the kitchen table and with an agreement on white wine Lauren filled two glasses. I left the bag on the spare bed, but didn't think there was much need to unpack. I would guess she could manage that.

I stepped over to the refrigerator and got a Coke from the fridge. I joined them at the table and Cheers-ed in their direction.

"No wine for you Donnie?" Mom asked.

"Oh, not today. Just... uh... a little early for me."

"That's not a familiar phrase. Everything okay?"

"Sure, Mom. It's fine. Just having a soda. Nothing odd in that is there?"

"Of course, not. Just unusual. You guys always have nicer wine than I do at home. So, I figured there must be a reason you're skipping the hooch in favor of the pop."

"Mothers know," Lauren said with a grin. "Truth is Darla that I'm giving him a hard time about it."

"You are not-" I tried to interject.

"I am a bit. But, I hope not in a bad way."

Mom took a sip and said, "Okay, so spill."

"Oh, it's just that Lauren has noticed that my drinking is a little... more regular... than I'd recognized. She was pointing out that it might be good for me to take a break."

She looked at Lauren and leaned in, "Is he being shitty? Hurting you?"

"Oh hell no," Laur countered. "He's fine. I just wondered out loud if he realized that he was drinking as much as he was. He is doing everything just fine, but he was drinking pretty hard on weeknights and I thought he might want to take stock. That's all. Just a break. He'd never hurt me." She took a sip, "I'd kick his ass."

"Good girl," Mom added. "You know I always said that my side of the family tended toward-"

"Addictive Personalities," We all chorused together.

Darla laughed and I smiled. Yeah, we were family.

"So, mother dear, I'm just taking a break to make sure that I can, in fact, take a break. I don't think I have a problem, but I also don't want to find out that there's trouble after I hurt myself or someone else. Thus, a break... and a Coke. Though maybe not a smile since I'm stone cold sober and the two of you are nearly done with that first glass."

"Well, honey, in that case refill it, because I'm not taking a break. I did that once and I'm pretty sure you don't want me to repeat that."

I poured another glass from the bottle for Mom and topped off Lauren's, who said "Okay, so, what does that mean Darla?"

Mom laughed and said, "Oh dear. Well, I imagine I drink more than my doctor would like - I always lie when she asks- but the only times I've consciously quit were when I was pregnant and nursing."

Lauren smiled and said, "Yeah, I don't think we want to knock you up to get you to step off the booze. Cheers."

Each of them took a large sip. Mom said, "Well, yeah. That would be a trick. But, mostly I meant, you wouldn't want to use my technique. I mean, you wouldn't want... er... never mind. Let's just say, Good For You. Take as long of a break as you feel you need to."

She raised her glass and saluted me.

"Okay, Mother dear. Be all mysterious. I'll just be over here distressingly sober."

"Yes, hon. That's the way to go in lieu of any other sensual pleasures." She suddenly got the giggles. Which was sweet and a little strange. But, you know, moms.

Lauren said, "Well, good to know that whatever developmental difficulties Donnie has are a result of his own choices. Thanks for giving him at least a decent start. God knows, he needs it."

"Har Har. Why do I hang out with you again?" I rather archly asked.

Lauren reached down with her free hand and lifted her untethered right boob while raising her right eyebrow.

Darla snickered and said, "But can you alternate them?" She reached across the table with her un-wineglassed hand and gently lifted Lauren's left boob. Which, as it was a bit of a surprise caused both of my girlfriends eyebrows to shoot up as she dropped the right one.

I'm afraid we all found that more funny than it probably was. Wine and awkwardness. I said, "Are you going to keep molesting my girlfriend, Mom?"

"Well, you know, I'm not sure. They are pretty great boobs, son."

"True," I said.

"True," Lauren said, "Though, to be honest, I think he likes my ass better. Still, he's not shy about the boobage."

"I am fond of the whole package. Even the eyebrows," I quipped as I tried to make a connection to their little back and forth.

But Mom said, "Never mention the eyebrows, son. That's territory that you don't know enough about. We trust you on boobs and asses, but not on aesthetics."

"That's fair," I said.

"So, Darla," Lauren grinned, "Finish that glass of wine so that I can open a new bottle. And then tell me all about this technique you speak of."

"You're terrible, girl. I just got here and I'm already tipsy. I'd need to be a good deal more blotto to start divulging truths. Well, other than the fact that your nipples are ridiculously distracting in that t-shirt," Darla laughed.

"I'd chide her, dear, but she's right," I added.

"I'll just thank you guys and make the man of the house open another bottle so I can get his Mom liquored up."

"Lush," I chuckled.

"Yep," my mother and girlfriend chorused.

I stood up and tossed my empty Coke can in the recycle bin. Grabbing another bottle of white from the fridge I headed over to the counter for the corkscrew.

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Things heat up in the next chapter... stay tuned.