Bdsm Sex Stories

by Olga Menson

  "I'm glad things were better at the end. I'm sorry I wasn't around more for it."

  He and I really didn't see eye to eye all that much. My father was, I suppose, a kind man. He treated mom well, mostly. But he neglected her too. She knew it, and it was in the background of our conversation now. She also knew that he made very little time for me. He was well-liked in the community, worked his way up to being an executive at a regional company that sold industrial equipment all over the world. He never had any trouble making new friends, but for whatever reason there was always a coldness to him with me. A reluctance to attend my performances at school or sporting events. Thankfully my mom didn't share that reluctance.

  By the time I went to college I had given up on having a close relationship with him. Don't get me wrong, we weren't awful to each other. We didn't fight except for some pretty standard teen rebellion. He was just distant from mom sometimes, and me almost always.

  The only part that hurt was seeing him behave as something of a mentor to other kids, my friends included. He was better to Kerry about helping her pick a college then he was with me. He liked having her around and thought that we were a good influence on each other. Hell, he even asked me if I was going to go to the same university as her. I don't want to give you the impression that he was weird with her, it was just like...like he saw something more when he saw us hanging out together. A thing that didn't quite exist, but maybe should have. I didn't understand it, but Kerry didn't have a father figure at home so I was more than happy to share mine.

  Mom wasn't as big on us at first. She never told me or even hinted to me that I should stay away from Kerry. She was kind to my best friend too. It really wasn't until we both hit our teens that mom warmed up to her. I think it helped that we were so natural and supportive of each other without ever crossing over to being romantic.

  Well, that she knew of, anyway.

  After a while I went and took a shower and started getting ready for bed. I generally wasn't a person who stayed up very late, but I was shockingly tired for it being only 8 o'clock. I blamed the travel but I should have been more aware. Depression makes you tired, and this was builting into a big one. If I'd been paying attention, I could have felt it settling on me like poisonous smog.

  I woke up on Saturday feeling a bit better. Not precisely well, but relaxed. I saw that my phone had a new voicemail from a number that I didn't recognize. There were texts as well. I looked at one of them.

  Please stop ignoring me. We need to talk about this.

  Fuck. I blocked that number too. I was shocked that she'd go to these lengths. It may not seem like much to use a different phone when your primary one was blocked, but Shanon was very much about respecting the decisions of others. I guess that didn't apply to exes.

  In any case, I figured she just wanted me to forgive her, or listen to a long-winded explanation. I wasn't really into that. I got dressed and went downstairs.

  Mom hadn't made breakfast, not exactly, but she had gotten some of her home-made granola out with plain yogurt. I know how that sounds, but her granola was not what you buy at stores. She used plenty of honey and berries, and it was amazing. I smiled and hugged her.

  "Did you sleep well?" she asked as she passed me a cup of her patented strong black coffee.

  "Yeah. Thanks. Are you working today?"

  She was already up and dressed and that usually meant that she had some volunteer work.

  "Yes. I hope that's ok. I can cancel some of my normal things if you want...it wouldn't be a big deal."

  I shook my head. My plans for the weekend mostly included wandering the neighborhood and town, visiting my dad's grave, and trying not to think of Shanon. I didn't want to disrupt my mom's work, in any case.

  "Nah. I'll see you later this evening. You're going to be sick of me by the time the holidays are over."

  "Never. I'm just so happy to have you around for a few months. It will be wonderful."

  As I drank my coffee and read the news on my phone, she got ready with her typical speed.

  "All right, I'm off. Have a great day, and try to relax a bit, all right? Love you"

  "I will. Love you to."

  She was halfway out the door when she stopped, hesitating.

  "You know, that lovely girl got divorced recently. She's staying with her mother."

  Then she was gone. I sat there, coffee halfway to my mouth, frozen. Only the sound of the car starting and driving away woke me from my daze.

  Jesus mom, way to drop the mic on your way out.

  'That lovely girl' was how my mom referred to Kerry. It always had been. When I had been in elementary school, it might have had a cold edge to it, but around middle school it became a term of genuine affection and warmth. It was truly how mom thought of Kerry: lovely on the inside and out.

  I didn't have anything like a current number for Kerry, and we weren't friends on Facebook or anything, so I had no idea how to reach her. I could just drop by her mom's house. No, that seemed a bit too presumptuous. I'd ask my mother for details tonight, and then I'd reach out if it seemed appropriate.

  I distracted myself in the morning by raking the leaves, cleaning the front and back yards and filling around ten large bags. I'd have to do it again before Thanksgiving but I didn't mind. It was worth it for all the oaks that grew in our yard.

  After that I just went for a walk. I let myself wander, taking in the old sights and sounds. I stopped by an old diner for lunch, ate a decent Reuben and some truly excellent lemon meringue, and then went to the cemetery. There was only one in town, and it wasn't exactly well maintained. I would clean up dad's grave if I had to, bringing my own tools if needed.

  When I got there, however, it was spotless. Someone had definitely cleaned it recently, probably mom. The other graves had old flowers on them, tiny flags which had gone to tatters, and even some beer cans. Speaking of flowers, there was a rose on his headstone. Just one. Yeah, I guess mom had definitely been here recently. It was still nice to visit, in any case. It was quiet here, and the same river that ran by the downtown ran behind the cemetery, making it seem like a part of life instead of opposed to it.

  I stopped by the grocery store on the way home and got some basics to make pasta and salad, as well as a six-pack, which frankly felt like some required medicine after last week. Then I watched college football, napped, and got up in time to make dinner by the time mom walked in, all smiles.

  "You didn't have to clean the yard or make dinner. You're supposed to be on vacation!"

  "This is vacation," I said, laughing. "No meetings or arguments over edits or corrections. No getting badgered to contribute to yet another textbook. Just sweat and distraction. Its perfect."

  She got cleaned up and we ate. We talked about nothing important, mostly I listened to her explain the food drive that she'd been working on and the kind of people that they'd been helping. Eventually she asked me about my day, and I told her about visiting dad's grave. Before I could say anything specific, mom surprised me.

  "I'm glad you visited. I still can't without breaking down, but I try to get out there once a month. Is the site all right? They let things get so bad there sometimes."

  I decided not to get too specific. If she hadn't kept it in shape then who had?

  "Yeah. It's actually quite nice."

  "Good. I feel awful about it, but I don't want to be a mess in public."

  After I cleared the table I did the dishes. I intended to be at least somewhat useful while I was around. I knew I'd find mom in her favorite chair reading in the living room. It was how she preferred to spend her evenings if there was nothing going on with her circle of friends. I decided to do the same but on our ancient but comfortable couch.

  I couldn't help but think of the last time I'd been on it with Kerry. My rather heated memory was interrupted by my mother.

  "So. Did you visit her house today?"

  "I'm sorry. Who are you talking about?"

  She snorted.

&n
bsp; "Don't play dumb with me, young man. Did you go by Kerry's house? I know that her mother still lives there and that she moved back after the divorce finalized."

  I would always be 'young man' to her when I was misbehaving. Never mind that I was officially in my thirties now.

  "I didn't. It seemed...I don't know. Presumptuous."

  Mom lowered her book at looked at me over her glasses.

  "Why would you ever think that? You two were close. Her mother asks about you when we run into each other. You'd be welcome there just like Kerry would be here."

  "She stopped talking to me. Well, I mean, she's not ignoring me, but once she got married and I met Shanon, she never really wanted to talk for more than a minute or two. I stopped reaching out. It felt like I was bothering her."

  This was the second topic that I didn't want to discuss, and the other way to immediately bring back my depression. Losing my ability to connect with Kerry was almost as bad as if I had to go to her funeral, just dragged out longer. In my head it was further proof of my lack of value. I tried not to dwell on it.

  "I don't know why she did. Maybe she was trying to save her marriage. I can tell you that she doesn't that know you're in town, though."

  "Why is that?"

  "Because if she did, she'd be on my doorstep in twenty minutes, asking me if you were here, just like old times. If you don't trust your judgement, then trust mine. Go see her tomorrow."

  I disagreed with her optimistic assessment, but then again, I knew I was feeling down, and was probably not thinking entirely straight about such things. I sighed.

  "All right, I'll head over tomorrow afternoon."

  The rest of the night was peaceful, the sound of the autumn wind making me feel lonesome but nostalgic as I drifted off to sleep.

  I woke up the next morning to five new voicemails. Five. No texts at least. I thought about listening but the idea made me feel nauseous. I showered and dressed and went downstairs.

  Mother, in her infinite mercy and wisdom, had not asked me to go to church with her but rather had let me sleep in. It was close to eleven now, and I knew she had a standing lunch with a few other couples afterwards so I'd be on my own. I ate a muffin that she'd left for me, then I decided to stop hesitating and just walk over to Kerry's.

  I realized that I was being a coward by arriving around lunchtime. I thought that if I ran into her and she was eating, I could just drop my number off and she'd call me if she wanted. No fighting and limited awkwardness. I knew her and her mother weren't church people, but if they went out to eat somewhere I could leave a note or something. That seemed like the best possible option to me. In my mind, Kerry had already coldly told me that she really didn't have the time to talk and I was preparing myself for the long walk back home.

  The way was beautiful, though. The gray skies, traditional this time of year, had cleared enough so deep blue was visible. The trees were vibrant and shook in the gentle breeze. It was chill enough that I was glad I wore a sweater but not truly cold. I decided to take the "fast" way over.

  Instead of taking streets like civilized people Kerry and I used to cut through two small parks and some unincorporated land that had an old ruined factory on it. It was older and even more decayed, but still there. The path brought back many memories. Running back and forth, getting caught in the rain, holding hands in our junior year as we strolled together, before excitedly making out or more at one of our houses or even in a secluded part of the park.

  I arrived entirely too quickly. I couldn't believe how sweaty my palms were. The two-story yellow house was not large, but certainly not downscale. It had clearly been repainted lately, and there was a new heating and cooling unit outside, so hopefully her mom was doing well.

  I knocked. I waited for what was probably half a minute, but felt like hours. The door opened. It wasn't Kerry but her mother. For a moment, I thought that I must have made a terrible mistake by coming here.

  Kerry's mother looked well. I knew, of course, that her first name was Judith but even then I'd have had a hard time calling her that. When she saw me, though, her reaction almost made me stammer an apology and leave. Her face turned from one of general welcome to shock and then an intense sadness. It happened fast but I'm sure that I didn't make a mistake. For a moment she closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she was smiling. I was relieved. It was real happiness to see me, the kind of positive surprise that is very hard to fake.

  "James. It's so good to see you. I'm sorry for the way I must have looked a moment ago, I was just...well going over some old pictures and they brought back memories."

  She stepped out and hugged me, looking me over. I don't know if she had been looking at pictures or not but I wasn't going to push. I was just grateful to be accepted.

  "It's good to see you to, uh, Judith. You look amazing. Sorry for just dropping by."

  She really did look great. She was just wearing jeans and an old t-shirt, but even in her early fifties she'd turn heads almost anywhere. Her hourglass figure was timeless and her eyes were piercing.

  "You look great, too. You never did let your appearance slip, like so many men do when they hit a certain age. And you never, ever need to apologize or call first. You're family here, you know that. But I know why you're here, and unfortunately Kerry isn't here," she must have seen my disappointment, because she quickly added, "but she should be back later this evening. You could leave your number or you could just come back around seven-ish?"

  Even after the greeting I had gotten, I didn't really want to surprise my old friend. I wanted to give her a chance to avoid me if that was what she truly wanted.

  "Let me just give you my number. She can call if she wants to hang out. I'm going to be in town through the holidays, so she doesn't have to rush."

  We chatted for a bit. Judith told me that she'd been promoted to director of midwestern sales, which pleased me. She did work very hard and I'd overheard some of her more intense phone conversations with her superiors and irritated customers. After a few pleasant moments and sharing some of the exiting world of textbook writing and editing, she smiled at me knowingly and disappeared inside. She showed back up with a paperback book and a pen.

  "If you're going to talk about what kind of work you do, you should at least share some of the more exciting things. Can I get this autographed?"

  She handed me the book and I almost laughed out loud. My mother must have told her. It was something I had written, the first of a series of books. Historical adventure/romance with a bit of horror. I really enjoyed writing them but there was no way they would support me so they were just a hobby, at best. They had a small but devoted following and decent reviews. I honestly never thought I'd run into a reader in my hometown, even if my mom had probably given her a copy.

  "Oh god. I can't believe you'd read this guy," I said, signing my name with a little flourish and writing a note about how kind Judith had always been to me, "I hear that he's kind of a jackass."

  She laughed, and it was a delightful noise.

  "A published author and he swears now! Will wonders never cease?"

  I laughed too and handed the book and pen back to her. As I turned to leave, she spoke again.

  "James."

  "Yes?"

  "She really is going to want to see you. I don't know why you're so worried, but I can see that you are. Don't be. You...you both have been through a lot over the last year. Her with the divorce and you with your father. I think you would be good for each other. Like old times."

  I smiled at the thought.

  "Like old times," I said, wondering if she suspected what that meant to me.

  * * *

  Then - Hidden Signs

  * * *

  Middle school ended and Kerry and I became freshmen together. She really started applying herself to sports, paying serious attention to her performance on the soccer field and basketball. I was not a sports guy, but I stayed in shape and I worked out with her sometimes, and helped her
run drills when she needed. We both became more serious about our grades, and I started to write for the first time, which became a lifelong habit. Naturally, Kerry was my first reader and critic.

  We didn't mean to, but we grew closer. When Kerry broke up with her second boyfriend, Mark, she was messed up for a while. They went out for dinner and fought over something small. Now in an uncomfortable silence, they took a shortcut through a local park, which was deserted at night. About halfway back he tried to kiss her, and she wasn't interested. He grabbed her arm, hard, and pushed her down onto the grass. He might have done worse if a jogger hadn't seen them and run over.

  It hit her hard, knowing what kind of guy she was seeing. She had almost certainly been in love with Mark, although I never heard her use the word. She broke up with him over the phone and told him to leave her alone. He kept after her for a while at school, so I told him, a little more firmly. After his nose stopped bleeding he was much more agreeable.

  I dated Judy and then broke up with her after I found out she was chatting with some other dude on MSN Messenger. It wasn't anything major, really, and I wasn't into her that much. We both grew up a little and were friends by the end of high school.

  I guess its important to mention because it was the first time I remember feeling betrayed by a girl. It's not fair to apply the actions of one person to a group, I know, but after it happens a few times, it gets harder. Every time, I was tempted to try and feel bad about women in general, I reminded myself that was how jackasses thought, and I remembered people like my mom. And, of course, Kerry.

  After Judy came two other girls. The first was a really lovely girl who just wanted to make out. We broke up mutually after a few months when I met Beth. Beth and I were together until late fall and were pretty serious until her parents moved in mid-winter.

  When Kerry broke up with Mark I was there for her. I held her while she cried, let her sleep at my house when she felt unsafe, and listened to her just talk the whole thing out. When I felt betrayed my Judy, Kerry listened to me vent and then offered to beat her up for me. I declined but it was a nice offer. When Beth left I was much more of a sad wreck, and she listened to me then too, but more than that, she was just there. I don't know how to describe it, except that I needed someone to be around and she was, as much or as little as I needed, no questions asked.