“I know,” I said.
“Well, I got what I wanted, he’s seeing someone…he’s gotten by Mary…Danny, I really am happy for him, but I guess it hurts a little…I don’t know what I thought would happen.” She got a little emotional and then laughed and said, “This is your fault too, I guess I started thinking that if you and Grace could do it…” I hugged her, and kissed her cheek.
I said, “I love you Carla and I know you’re going to find someone and be happy…you deserve it.”
She said, “Thanks sweetie…it’ll work out, anyway, I’m actually going to meet this Pamela tonight…will you and Grace come over so I don’t have to do this alone?”
“Of course we’ll be here, you’re going to be great.”
Part of me wanted to resent her, but you couldn’t help liking Pamela. She was a sweet soul without a negative bone in her body. She was a child of the sixties, born in the eighties. Everything was ‘Cool’ to this flower child. I suspect all the things that Carla was reluctant to do with Red was ‘Cool’ with Pam.
A few weeks later I learned from Red just how accepting she was of anything and everything. It turned out that it was even okay with her that Red ‘visited’ his mother every once in a while. He had told her everything and that was ‘Cool’ too. Within a few months Pamela became one of the family. A few months later, they were married; a few months later, she was pregnant. And Carla saw a lot more of Red during the third trimester.
Between mom and me, things became the wrong kind of ‘Cool.’ Even though it was working fine for Carla, Red, and Pam, mom was knocked off kilter because Red had changed the relationship between him and his mother. It upset her. She kept asking me if I was going to do what Red had done.
Mom finally told that she was having pain when we had intercourse. We know that the situation with Red didn’t cause the problem, but it made it worse. Mom went to an internist and a specialist and neither could find anything physically wrong with her. What had started on the trip, progressively worsened month after month.
We had sex. There was no lack of ways to make love and make each other come besides vaginal intercourse, but it became an obstacle. We were thinking about it, and that took something away from our lovemaking. Then mom’s fantasies got harder edged. She wanted to be disciplined.
At first I thought it was harmless fun. She came up with all kinds of retribution for her so-called ‘wrongdoings.’ If dinner were late, she would be ‘forced’ to have anal sex. If the house weren’t clean enough, she would be tied up to have little indignities performed on her nipples or her pussy. If she had the audacity to talk back, I would tie her hands to the top of the headboard and strip her against her will. As she stood naked, I would rub her pussy with one hand as I spanked her with the other. She would tell me what she wanted by telling me what not to do. So it was “No son, please don’t hit me harder.” And as with her other chastisements, I was surprised by her reaction, because the harder I slapped her ass the harder she came.