When Joel returned from the bathroom, I’d just begun making my yoga mat bed for the night. He stood close to me and uttered two simple words: “Don’t worry.”
I should’ve known what was coming, or at least that something was up with him, but I can be pretty damn naive when it counts. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I love you, Mum. You’re so incredibly beautiful, I’ve wanted you for so long…” Too shocked to react, I stood motionless while my son brushed my hair out of my face before embracing me and kissing me on the mouth.
Words cannot describe how incredibly weird it is to have a family member finally act on years of desire for you, let alone how confusing it is to find yourself suddenly, undeniably attracted to them in return. But if I had to describe it (and since I’m writing this, I guess I do have to describe it), I’d say it’s probably the most extreme example of “so wrong it’s good” that I’ve ever experienced. When Joel put his lips on mine and I felt his stubble-beard prickle against my pale skin and my nostrils filled with the strong, sweet aroma of his deodorant, I was equal parts disgusted with ourselves, incredibly horny, intoxicated by the taboo, giddy with adrenaline at the possibility of cheating on my husband, and flattered beyond words by the actions and words sexy young man who found me so desirable he didn’t care that he was making a move on the woman who gave birth to him.
As much as my body wanted everything that would happen next, my more rational brain won the fight and once I regained the strength in my arms, I put my arms to his chest – oh God, that solid, young chest – and pushed him away, breaking our kiss.
“Mum, what’s wrong? Don’t try to tell me you don’t want this; I saw the way you were looking at me after I confessed my feelings for you.”
I stepped back from him. “It’s not as easy as that, darling. I do think you’re very sexy, too, and I’m happy to say you’re also very sweet and caring and loving. But I’m still very much in love with your father, and since this trip was all about him, I’d feel like such a hypocritical whore if I broke my marriage vows to him for the first time now, and with our own son, no less!”
He stepped closer again, trying not to look intimidating, but not exactly succeeding. He put his hands on my shoulders and gently started massaging me. He stared me deep in the eyes and told me, “Look, just because I’m not married, don’t think I don’t understand, Mum. But it’s just that I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be with. You’re so amazingly beautiful and sexy in every way, it pains me to know that your love is wasted on that ungrateful man you’re married to. I’m sorry if that hurts, but it’s true.”
It certainly was true, but I didn’t want him to think I agreed. As much as I enjoyed the massage, I gently removed his hands from my shoulders and held them in my hands as I told him, “I love you so much, Joel, but… having sex with my son? It’s not something I ever thought I would do, and now that it I’m suddenly faced with the reality of it even possibly happening, the thought petrifies me. I really do love you and I know you’re in love with me, but… above everything else, I’m your mother. And as much as you make me feel desired again, I’m just too scared of what could happen if we actually do go through with what you’re trying to make happen.” I turned away from him with the beginnings of tears in my eyes – I’d never had to be so emotionally honest with Joel before, and it was incredibly difficult. As much to him as it was to myself, I found the strength to say just one more word – “Sorry.”
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