Mother, May I?

Mother, May I?

You had sex last night?


Why would I care– wait. Was it consensual?

Yes. We both wanted it.

Good for you.

Very much. We’ve been dating for a while now.

You’re smiling. It must have been good?

Oh, it was. He is so, so– I have no words.

It’s none of my business–

He kisses so well. My whole body just responds to him. Even before he touches me. Just a look from him makes me all giddy inside. He has this look when he’s about to kiss me that is just–

I really don’t think this is any of my business.

Oh, it is. You’ll see why in a minute. Where was I? Yeah. His kiss. His kiss was so good. You know the kind. Those that have the ability to give one an orgasm? His lips softly said hi to mine with a slight feather-light touch. You should see the goosebumps I get when he does that. He starts by kissing my outer lip before probing my mouth open and it’s just heaven from there. One minute my lips are trembling, the next they are welcoming him in as a rush of saliva fills my mouth. He takes my tongue in his mouth and he, by George, threatens to suck me dry. It’s a good feeling. You know it don’t you?

What the– why–?

Seconds in and he surrounds me. His hands. His scent. His body against mine. Imagine the feeling you would get if you were free falling from the sky and yet knowing that there is no ground to hit at the bottom. You’re just floating and the clouds form a warm cushion around you. You’re falling, but you’re not really falling. You’re flying but you’re not really moving. There’s all this warmth and softness and hardness – if you know what I mean – around you. Wink, wink. All this before we even take off our clothes.

Why are you telling me this?

Because I believe you need to know this. Well, the kiss was good. And the more he sucked on me, the more my juices flowed. There is a point in a kiss that you know you’re not getting out of it with your clothes on. The kissing just stops being enough, you know. Your clothes become a nuisance and you have to take them off in silent acquiescence. Why fight it when you can go back to being animals and give your bodies the pleasure it wants? That’s what we did. I mean, who were we to deny our bodies what they wanted? You understand, don’t you?

I don’t care.

You will in a minute. We lost our senses completely. Our clothes are off, things get heated. We’re pressing against each other. Touching each other where it feels good. Him touching me where I lead his hands. I tend to do that. Me, feeling up every inch of him. And it is a generous inch, if you know what I mean. Wink. Wink. All that touchy-touchy shebang. Bang. Bang.

Do you go telling everyone about your sex life?

Of course not, silly. We have a rhythm he and I. We like to take it slow. Take each other in. Savor every moment and shit. He likes to look into my eyes – I don’t get it either. Me, I shift between looking into his eyes (I don’t want to be rude), and closing my eyes. Of course, we’re not always in a position to look at each other’s faces, but we take what we can get when we can get it. For a couple of minutes, we didn’t care about what you or anyone else thinks about us.


Yeah. All we had was a fire inside us that desperately needed to explode. Maybe burn us in the process. We were ready to burn. You were not going to stop that. Nobody was.

Why would I want to stop you?

We both wanted this. We were both going to get this. And boy did we. Over and over. It was a cycle. One minute we were dry with a normal heart rate, the next minute we were soaked, sore and fighting for air.

Not that it’s any of my business, but I see you are not the kind of couple that believes in using protection? Again, not that it’s any of my business.

I’m actually glad that you noticed. I know the risks that come with having unprotected sex. The HIVs, the STDs. You don’t really have to lecture me on that. That was a glaring mia culpa. We should have used protection.


I guess we’re all caught up then. I had sex. And it was good., And it was consensual.

I still don’t understand why you’re telling me all these. I’m not interested in your sex life.

Yes, you are.

I’m not.

You are.

How do you figure?

The sex left me with something. Something that you feel warrants your opinion.


Why do good things always come with a price? Do you know? You have good mind-blowing sex and the next thing you know, you have a disease or a pregnancy to contend with. Anyway, what I got from the sex wasn’t HIV – we’ve been getting tested every now and then. It wasn’t an STD either. He’s a stand up guy. I’ve never had to deal with infidelity. It left me with pee in a stick and it read positive.

So you’re pregnant.


I still don’t see why you feel the need to share this information with me.

Wait for it. God, you’re impatient. The reason I’m telling you all this is because I’m not keeping the pregnancy. I know you’ll ask the usual questions. Is he a good guy? And I’ll answer truthfully, yes. He is a good guy. Am I financially stable? Yes. I am. I think I’ve covered everything. Is there anything else you need to know?

You’re terminating the pregnancy?

Haven’t you been listening? The sex was good. The man is good. The job I do is good. But let’s face it. You don’t have a child because the sex was good or because the man is good. You don’t have a child because you have the money to raise it. If that was a good enough reason, children would be a preserve of the rich.

Don’t you want children?



Because I’d rather tell you the truth and contend with the look of disgust you’re giving me right now, than one day harbor thoughts of throwing some poor baby in a pit latrine or feel the urge to light up the house with them in it.

What look? Wait a minute now. You can’t just–

There it is. I can’t what?

You’re insane.

Am I, really?


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