Sometimes I worry if my mother reads this, then I remember she doesn't understand the internet and my worries go away. Some day when we finally take all the shit off her computer that makes browsing the web slower then when dial-up was the thing I may have to tell her to only read the specific blogs I label mother appropriate, or I'll just make another watered down version that talks about cooking and the books I'm reading, which she will like.
For now I'm going to talk about whatever I want. Becasue I can.
My senior year of hs I had a boyfriend, and then I didn't. But the fact that we were broken up didn't stop us from having a fair amount of bedroom fun. Or basement fun. Or back of the car parked in my driveway fun. Or hot tub fun, or camping fun...
All this fun was usually had at said ex-bf's house, because, as any of my previous suitors will vouch for, my mother is an obnoxious wench who "checks in on us" every two or three minutes, depending on the wind patterns and how much of a nincompoop she feels like being. My mother made me the way I am by preventing me from doing anything fun, ever.
This high school lover of mine had a interesting sort of mother, who encouraged him to take his love interests up to his room and "kiss"; she wasn't retarded, she knew what was going down, she just didn't care. Plus I wasn't her daughter, so whateves, right? So I'd come over, we'd mosey on up stairs, put on some Enya (his idea of romantic music I think, it just made me think of wood nymphs and The Scarlet Letter...) and pretend we were in love. He was the first straight person I'd ever let touch me, and I liked it. After we broke up everything was a lot better. Sex, no strings, and a consistently available location that we could be horizontal in for more than 10 minutes at a time, not that we needed it, we were in high school.
Now you think I'm a slut... if you must know he and I did enjoy each other’s company, in fact, sometimes we still talk. I don't hate him; I just know that I have no desire to be with him. We did have fun doing other activities, he is pretty intelligent; he just isn't my type anymore. Once, after a lovely bit of group exercise we decided to read Harry Potter out loud to each other. It was sort of hot in the room so I decided not to put my shirt back on, and naturally his mother decided to come up stairs and check up on us. So we were sitting in his bed, him shirtless, me shirtless, and only the Harry Potter book between us. Obviously I was getting hard again.
In comes his mother asking some question and she sees me in only my bra. I answer her with saying we were reading to each other, but I had pulled the blanket up to cover myself and she was aware that although we did have a book between us, there was not much else...
I was mortified, but she left right after and shut the door. I relaxed, got dressed, than we went down stairs for dinner. As if from an awkward teen movie his out of state relatives were there for the night and I got to meet all of them. This took attention off of us from his mother, but she did greet me with a lovely quip that everyone heard, "It's nice that you two put your clothes back on." I didn't respond, I just kept walking and pretended she was the wall. I honestly didn’t care what that woman thought of me (one of the few times I was able to see the snake for what it was), his Dad liked me enough for both of them because I talked to him about books, something no one else in his family did. And since I have no desire to sex this kid up anymore, his parents’ opinion of me is moot.
I now read out loud to my sex partners as naked as I want to be, because I will never live with my mother again, or date someone who lives with his. And if by some lapse in judgment I do bump hips with a guy who still lives at home, I'll make bloody sure his parents are aware that I’m a grown up and can be naked as often as I want to be, because I am. And I am.
And reading naked is very sexy.