Page 53 of Character Flaws
But before I have a chance to argue any further, he hooks his thumb underneath the fabric and I feel a cool draft against my dampness. I gasp in delight, but it’s drowned out by his feral growl.
And then it’s on like Donkey Kong.
His mouth descends and sends me straight into orbit.
I’m lost in every frantic sensation: from ecstasy to obliteration.
And he’s only getting started.
My phone ringing somewhere in the room jars me from my wet hot memories. Theo stirs a little, as I slowly and carefully inch off the bed, reaching for my panties and his t-shirt lying on the floor.
Before sliding it over my head, I bring it up to my nose and take a deep inhale. His scene fills me with longing and lust.
The ringing continues as my eyes dart around the room to find my purse on the chair in the corner. I pad over quietly, picking it up and stepping out into the hallway before closing the door with a softclick.
Riffling inside, I grab hold and pull it out. I don’t even have to look at the display to know who it is.
Mother.
I answer. “Good morning, mom.”
“Well, if it isn’t my long-lost daughter. You know, the one who never calls me? I was getting worried you’d been kidnapped by a serial killer. You could at the very least text me daily so I know you’re alive and well.”
Normally I would be easily irritated with her overblown drama, but because I’m still floating on a tranquil sea of sexual fulfillment, I only see her love for me. I know she loves me in her ownMommie Dearestway.
“Sorry, Mom. I’ve been busy and haven’t had much time.”
She heaves a sigh. Here we go.
“From that ridiculous play you’re involved with? The one where you don’t get paid? Darling, I don’t see why you are spending so much time on this silly little hobby. It will never get you anywhere.”
Now I have to bite my lip from getting too lippy. Sometimes my mother just knows how to push my buttons.
Recalling all the wonderful things Theo did with his hands last night helps bring me the serenity I need to keep from lashing out right now.
“Mom, we talked about this. I’m doing fine. I’m making money at Felicia’s shop. And for once, I’m really enjoying it, having fun and really learning about myself in the process. It’s so liberating not having to deal with kids all day long.”
“Darling,” she resumes, her voice turning that special tone she uses with me when she doesn’t agree. “I’m sure you are having fun with this extra-curricular activity of yours. But you need to remain focused. Maybe you should find a job teaching back home? Come take care of your mother and find an adoring man to marry. You know Martin is…”
No, no. Must shut her down. If she brings up my old childhood neighbor one more time, I might just lose it.
“Mother, you know I’ve never found Martin to be the least bit attractive. He used to eat his buggers, for God’s sake.”
Just the thought skeezes me out. Not only would he eat ‘em, but he’d also try to wipe them on me. He rarely bathed and had a very distinct rotten egg odor to him. Granted, that was when we were in fourth grade, but still. One doesn’t get over that kind of disgust. Plus, he still lives with his own mother, even though he’s a grown man with a college degree.
But somehow my mother always seems to overlook those little details, and sees him as some prize catch.
“Fine, if not Martin, then someone else. You’re young, beautiful and intelligent. And I want some grand-babies sometime in the next five years. Can’t you at least give me that for all the support I’ve given you all these years?”
The frustration is now welling up, ready to explode like a cannon, and all the good vibes from last night are quickly evaporating as I do my singular best to avoid stomping my feet.
I look down at my hand and notice I’m clenching it into a fist.
Yup. Time to go get me some more Theo sex-therapy.
“Mom, I gotta go. I’ll call you later this week after my “ridiculous” play rehearsals. Love you. Bye.”
And then I hang up just as she’s trying to say goodbye.
I know, I sound like a childish, spoiled brat.
But can you blame me?
And if she ever finds out about Theo…an actor/playwright without a home?
Good lord, I’ll never hear the end of that.
For some reason, she thinks that only men with medical or law degrees are worthy of her daughter. Unless, of course they happen to be Martin French.
