Read The Secret Sex Life of a Single Mom Online

Authors: Delaine Moore

Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #Personal Memoirs, #Family & Relationships, #Divorce & Separation, #Parenting, #Single Parent, #Health & Fitness, #Sexuality

The Secret Sex Life of a Single Mom (17 page)

BOOK: The Secret Sex Life of a Single Mom
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I didn’t
want
to care so darn much about what any man thought of me, whatever his age. But, like my role as chaste wife/ mother, it was pretty ingrained, this need for validation of my desirability. That’s why I liked this bizarre arrangement with Shane. It pushed me to be tougher about how I managed my dating/sex life. It challenged me
not
to seek validation from every date, conversation, and sexual experience. To be less sensitive.
What’s that? You don’t like the fact I enjoy the odd cigarette? Bye-bye, then.
Oh, you prefer women who aren’t moms? Okay, see ya.
Hmmm? Long legs up to her ears, eh? Might I suggest the zoo?
I just needed to shift my brain into objective gear and wrap some Teflon around my heart.
Daniel
did
end up calling me again. Half a dozen times actually, over the next three days. Finally, I “reluctantly” agreed to his invitation to watch a movie at his house. My insecurity was replaced by excitement. Here was my chance to have sex with the yummiest of young men
and
begin applying Shane’s lessons.
Fresh and beautified, I got in my minivan, anticipating what our night of movie-watching would hold.
Too bad his roommate is home,
I thought. I’d wanted to arrive wearing some knee-wobbling attire. But I felt good in what I was wearing: jeans, a cool belt, and a trendy, tight T-shirt. Casual but sexy.
As I started my car, I looked through the windshield at my children’s darkened bedroom windows.
Everyone’s snuggled safe in bed, dreaming sweet dreams. Meanwhile, look what their crazy mom is up to,
I thought, shaking my head in disapproval.
Suddenly, over the quiet hum of the minivan engine I realized I heard guitar strumming. It was coming from my speakers: Rihanna’s “Good Girl Gone Bad.” Smiling, I reached over and turned it up.
Live in the now, girl,
I thought, looking ahead out my windshield.
Go have some fun!
I shifted into gear and drove off into a night full of stars and opportunities.
 
Two hours later, I unlocked my front door and quietly crept inside. My baby sitter, Janice, peeked around the corner in her flannel pajamas. “Hello,” she whispered. “How was your night?”
“It was really fun,” I whispered back, wondering if my hair was a mess (she thought I was just out with “friends”—if she only knew!). “Everybody sleeping still?”
“Yes-yes. No problems. Not a sound all night.”
“Excellent. Thanks, Janice.” I walked down the hall to my bedroom and quickly changed and got ready for bed. I wasn’t tired. In fact, I was kind of glowing, lingering in a post-orgasmic wonderland. My body felt wonderful . . .
fulfilled
.
The health experts were right,
I thought to myself with a grin.
Sex is good for our health. I guess sex doesn’t have to be heart-centered to be of value. Maybe fun and physical pleasure could be meaning enough.
I sat down at my desk and began composing my “date
report” to Shane. Overall, our evening had gone really well. But in terms of my “dominating” him,
hmm,
that was another story. Prior to ending up in his bedroom, my behavior was anything but assertive. I acted more like a demure, wholesome teenager than a confident, dominant woman. All that was missing were my braces and big Madonna bow. What I
wanted
to do was pounce on him and tear off his clothes. What I
really
did was sit beside him, watch TV for half an hour, and
wish
I was ripping off his clothes. First, we pretended we didn’t notice we were touching legs. Then, we graduated to hand-holding. Then, a hand with a mind of its own got to leg rubbing. And finally, we met in the middle for a kiss.
But
mmmm,
that kiss sure melted away our awkwardness. As soon as lips made contact, we full-on attacked each other like horny teenagers on their parents’ couch; cushions were either tossed or stampeded hard! And when he whispered “let’s move to the bed” and stood up to whip his shirt off, I struggled to get up like a horizontal toddler in a ball pit.
My domination mission pretty much flew out of my brain and out the window. The sheer beauty of his god-like physique was one thing, but to see it and feel it ripple and flex in action was enough to send my brain into overload. My little snowboarder was ripe with style and endurance to match—and he zigzagged around my body like I was his human black diamond run (godDAMN, I could never do a ski team!). A couple of times midcourse, I did try to teach him the Chad Maneuver. But he didn’t quite get it—blame it on different rhythm. But guess what? I squirted anyway! This time it happened with deep penetration while I was on top. Apparently, I have more to learn about my body than I thought.
As we removed his sheets to let the mattress dry off, I could tell he was astonished by how wet it was. “I’ve only been with one other girl who squirted,” he revealed. “And it was a long, long time ago.”
I thought,
What, were you twelve or something?
I
did
feel a tiny bit embarrassed by my mess, but on the other hand, I thought,
You better get used to it, junior!
So, although I had a great night of sex, I didn’t quite succeed in my mission. My main objective in dating younger men, other than expending some pent-up sexual energy, was to step outside the lines of my safe little boundaries and take more than just a “peek” beyond the fence. I wanted to sit in the feeling of power and see if it had anything to teach me. I wanted to be more aggressive, self-assured, demanding, risk-taking—in bed and out of bed. I wanted to verbalize what I wanted, play with his mind a bit, and stop being so self-conscious. And tonight, all the cards were perfectly lined up. In fact, I knew he
wanted
me to dominate him.
So what
if Daniel’s roommate was home. I should have tossed the movie disc across the room, pushed him against the wall, kissed him hard, and
then
told him to sit in a different chair while I watched my favorite TV show—in my bra and panties. Now
that
would have caused some tension. But instead, I’d reverted to “nice girl” conduct—
urghh!
I obviously still had some pretty ingrained habits to shed; this mission would require another attempt.
I quickly hammered out a brief synopsis of my evening for Shane and added a couple happy faces at the end. No use rambling on to him about my personal revelations; those were mine, not his. At the end of my email, I added: “I’m talking to a couple of other guys too. I’ll keep you posted.”
Cigarette time. I threw on my winter jacket and went out the backdoor to smoke beneath the clear, starlit sky.
 
Shane’s email awaited me in the morning:
Finally,
the woman had sex. Just don’t wimp out on seeing the others now. The “Queen” needs to see all the
candidates. Whether you decide to have one lover or five, there is no shame in having non-lame sex. You now need to accept the responsibilities in getting what you are entitled to, including pursuing it more consciously and regularly.
My sense is that you are still being the classy, nice girl of old. You
need
to be judgmental; you
need
to actively set the terms of how any ongoing situation is set up. You are the BOSS. It is fundamentally up to YOU to decide what happens.
With that, I went after my next conquest. A week later, I was in his apartment.
 
Mission No. 3
Subject’s name: Minotaur Brent
Age: 28
Body Type: 6 feet tall and husky
Penis Size: reported as “plenty and then some” (unconfirmed)
 
 
I quickly foresaw that Brent was going to be a harder case to break than Adonis Boy.
In our correspondence, we clearly jockeyed for the dominant role. I said he was not to kiss me without permission; he said I’d beg him to. I said I was the one in control; he said, we’ll see about that. I said I’m older and will demand what I want; he said he’s been with older women before. Not once did he show signs of submissiveness. Nor did our age difference seem to be fulfilling some juvenile fantasy.
I agreed to meet him spur of the moment on a Wednesday night (after the kids were in bed) at his condo. Not inside his condo, but outside, so I could assess him. I watched as he exited the main floor
elevator and walked toward me. He was clean-cut, with a full head of short dark hair. He was wearing a heavy jacket so I couldn’t see his physique, but he looked fit—more thickly built than Daniel.
After talking outside for about fifteen minutes, it was clear he was normal
and
that we had chemistry. Since we were darn near freezing out in the cold, I accepted his invitation to go up to his condo. He promised to behave; we’d simply chat.
We sat side by side on his couch and chatted for about half an hour while the TV played quietly in the background. I was surprised at how comfortable I felt.
You’re in some guy’s condo that you just met!
a voice screeched.
What if he’s hiding a knife under the couch?
Oh, hush.
I smiled at myself and leaned further into the couch. I was actually really enjoying his company. His energy was strong but calm, and I found it rather sexy.
Suddenly, I realized he was staring at me with a big smirk on his face. “What?” I asked, eyebrows high. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He chuckled. “I just can’t help but notice that you’re not nearly as bossy in person as you are online. You’re actually really sweet. And really
hot
.” And before I could cleverly respond, he pulled me down on top of him on the couch.
As his hands began roaming my back, Shane’s words came back to me: “Nobody takes from you without asking. Got it?”
I hear you, Shane, but it’s really hard when it feels so good! Plus, my left arm is pinned underneath him!
Calmly, masterfully, Brent turned his head so that our lips were dangerously close. “I told you not to kiss me,” I warned him. “Any kissing will be decided by me.”
“I know.” His dark eyes went from my eyes to my lips. “I’m not kissing you.” Strong, gentle hands explored my body through the outside of my clothes. My one free arm was no match for his two stronger ones.
My body roused at his touch . . . and I realized I was caving. I had to get out of there before I went AWOL on my mission. With a sudden spurt of resolve, I yanked my pinned arm out from underneath him and jumped to my feet. “I’m
going
now, Brent,” I said, brushing my disheveled clothes back into place. I marched to the door.
“It was very nice to meet you, Brent,” I added, as I fumbled in the corridor to zip up my high-heeled boots. His large presence loomed beside me.
“You too, Delaine.” That same smirk . . .
Grrrrr.
I pulled my jacket off the hangar and swung it over my arm. “Alrighty then,” I said firmly. “I think I’ve got everything.” I faced him directly for a split second. “I will talk to you later.” I turned and walked the few steps to the door.
Just keep moving! Do NOT look back
.
Suddenly, his hand was on my arm. He pulled me around and pinned me solidly against the door. He kissed me hard, and oh my God, he was so deliciously sexy, I caved. My jacket and purse fell to the floor. He picked me up, held my legs around his waist, and carried me back down the hallway toward his bedroom.
“No Brent!” I said breathlessly, in between his determined kisses. “I’m not going to have sex with you.” He quickly turned and backed me into another wall, still kissing me and gripping my legs around him. No one had ever picked me up for that long before, but he made it seem so easy. His strong legs leaned into me while his thick shoulders and back rippled with the power of a bull.
Oh my God—I was being devoured by a Minotaur!
I’m not sure how long he held me there or how long we kissed. My head spun and my body raged with lust. Eventually, I slid to the floor, after which he grabbed me and turned me to face the wall. Again, his big hands seemed to be everywhere on my body. I had to make a decision!
I crouched down and ducked out of his reach. “’K, I’m
leaving!”
I raced to the door, grabbing my stuff along the way, and opened it. Once safely outside in the corridor I looked back at him, breathing heavy, hair disheveled. “
Good night,
Brent,” I said, unable to hide my exasperation.
He leaned in the doorway, smirking in that same infuriating but sexy way, his dark thick hair screaming to be tousled. “I’ll talk to you soon, Delaine,” he murmured. And his gaze warmed my back as I walked to the elevator.
 
Once home, I quickly shooed out the baby sitter and dove onto my computer.
Shane:
So I met with my other young man tonight. I’m so turned on right now I can’t even think straight. He may be young, Shane, but I think he’s a budding alpha. He refused to let me lead and picked me up and pinned me against the wall at the end of the night. I walked out on him before my clothes were off, but it took every ounce of my strength!
His demeanor—and his TOUCH—wow, they made me melt, Shane! I really don’t know if I have it in me to make him submit to me. I just feel the insatiable desire to have sex with him!
True to form, Shane’s response was waiting in my inbox the next morning.
Hmmm.
I think you need to get through a mega-slutty phase before you can focus on dominating this or any man. Until your pussy is satisfied, I think domination will take a back seat.
Again, there is no shame in having great sex on your terms with as many partners as you choose. I don’t want to hear any more whining about you being lonely and horny on weekends anymore. In fact, I think it might be good for you to venture even further outside your comfort zone: Why not take two different lovers on any given weekend? Just think, double the satisfaction . . .
Two lovers in one weekend?
I sat there wide-eyed. No way! Hah, what kind of girl does he think I am?
BOOK: The Secret Sex Life of a Single Mom
9.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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