Tempted by Tanlines Pt.2 - Sex Stories

Tempted by Tanlines Pt.2

... mother, "it might make you feel better." I lie there and hope she'll just go away. She won't, of course, but I still hope. She plays me with silence. My mother lets me lie there, her weight on the bed a signal she's prepared to wait as long as it takes. Damn, she's so stubborn! The pressure inside me cranks up as I try to prove I'm as capable of holding out as she is. But, in the end, with great reluctance and a heavy sigh I have to concede. I decide to save myself the torment. Better a quick bullet than suffer the torture. "All right," I breathe, rolling over. "Let's talk about it. Let's get it over with and then you get out of my room and leave me alone." My mother chuckles and pulls a face. "Please, Sean," she says while smirking at me. "Let's have less of the drama." A hot flare of anger wells when I see the roll of her eyes. In that moment I just want to hurt her, and to get in a dig of my own I ask, "So what happened tonight? What did he do?" My mother's face crumples. The grin vanishes and she seems to shrink inside the gown, the words leaving a shitty taste in my mouth when I see their effect. "I'm sorry," I mumble, immediately contrite. "Oh, Sean," she sighs, "it isn't your fault. He confessed to sleeping with someone else. He thought by telling me it all, we could move on." All I reply with is, "Oh." I know she wouldn't have accepted anything he said after confessing. One chance. You cheat, you're gone. No exceptions. Just ask my dad. "Sex," she says, spitting out ...

... the word. "All he had to do was explain before doing anything sneaky. He might have gotten a surprise." My mother pauses, eyes glazing. She drifts for a while, eyes glazing. I feel bad when I see her wistful expression. It's my fault for reminding her and wished I'd kept my mouth shut. "If he was up front and honest," she starts up again. "And God knows, I thought I'd explained all that to him." My mother looks looks at me in earnest. "I told him how I felt about infidelity," she says, stressing her feelings by clenching both fists. "Itold him to be truthful with me. No matter what was going on inside his head, I said he should share it. "If he was up front and honest," she continues, eyes wide as she says, "he could have had his fun. The sex I don't care about, Sean. It's the fucking deceit I can't stand." My jaw dangles at the revelation. It comes a bit of a shock to discover my mother would let her swain slip the collar for a bout of no-strings rumpy-pumpy as long as he was honest about it. I blink and gawp at her, the idea slowly filtering through layers of disbelief. She must see something in my expression to indicate some need for further clarification because my mother rattles on without a word from me. "It's quite simple, Sean. The sex doesn't matter. I can understand how overwhelming passion can be. I've been there myself." An image bursts into mind when she says that. I didn't want to think it, but I immediately picture my mother caught in the throes. I've seen it ...