Stacy dropped her fork and covered her face. "OH god, I'm going to die." she groaned.
Wendy's Lament: Heart to heart (nosex)
Fluffy cotton robe tied firmly shut, hair in as good a shape as it was likely to get that day, Stacy tried to act casual as she entered the kitchen. Her mother was at the table with her laptop open to some news and an empty plate of what had probably been scrambled eggs in front of her. Wendy looked up at her daughter. "Hi honey. There's beaten eggs ready and some chopped ham and onions left."
Stacy looked at the ingredients. She turned the heat on under the pan. She was taking the day off to be with her mother and eggs did sound good. But still she said with some exasperation, "Mother! Guests aren't supposed to make breakfast."
Wendy made a noise. "I'm not a guest, I'm your mother. This is a vacation for you too and I don't spend forty or fifty hours a week in an office. You deserve to be treated nice too you know."
She paused for a moment, an indecipherable expression on her face. "Though I'm sure Jared treats you good. He sure was chipper this morning."
Stacy blushed as she poured the eggs into the warm pan.
She glanced at Wendy. Her mother was fully dressed in an ordinary blouse and jeans. Her short black hair was darker and had a lot more curl than Stacy's. She didn't know for sure that her mother dyed it but it was likely.
At a bit past fifty, Wendy basically just looked her age. A few worry lines here, quite a bit of extra padding there and there. Wendy was a little taller than her daughter... Stacy's father Hal was a rather small man.
Wendy still moved through life with a good deal of energy. She'd never been to a gym or been interested in any sport, even the golf her husband lived for. But she was not an idle kind of person; constantly attending, or quite often, running, this function or that. She also watched her diet somewhat. Her main role in life was to manage the social calendar of her moderately wealthy husband. So, her body was comfortable but not gone entirely to seed.
When she was younger, Stacy had wondered if she'd have a body like her mother. Back then, there'd been a good deal less droop and spread to Mrs. Schnabel's figure but she'd always had a lush look about her. Big, commanding breasts and plenty of junk in the trunk. Her waist had fluctuated over the years... at times she'd possessed quite an hourglass figure but other times tended toward a bit dumpy.
Stacy had never really "filled out" that way but she also didn't have quite the battle with the bulge her mother did. Nice hips blending with a decent waist and modest but perfectly shaped breasts. Her body may fail to stop traffic but it was healthy and decidedly feminine.
As had always been the tradition in the Schnabel household, Stacy did not attempt to make an omelet, instead stirring up the eggs to make them scrambled, loaded with ham and onion. Dang, no cheese in the house.
Wendy read silently while Stacy cooked and plated her scamblet. Grapefruit juice and toast. The silence continued for a time. Stacy became aware that Wendy was studying her. She raised her brows at her mother in question. Wendy tried to be casual. "You're in a better mood this morning." she said.
Stacy swallowed a bite of toast. "Better than last night you mean? Sorry, it was just a long day I guess."
Wendy made a non-committal sound. "Did you sleep well?"
Wendy's teenage years had been pretty average. Lots of arguments with her parents. Lots of lies and punishments... well, perhaps not lots but some at least. During that time, Stacy had never had any difficulty lying to her father. In so many ways, he had been the enemy. A prudish stick in the mud. They'd loved one another but Stacy had hated his draconian rule.
Still, she'd had a fairly happy childhood and frankly had gotten away with a lot. Lying to dad had been easy and he'd been naive in a lot of ways.
Lying to her mother had been another story. She hated doing and was bad at it as well. When Wendy asked her daughter a question, she pretty much always got an honest answer. And in fact, Wendy had been aware of her daughter's struggles and sympathized with them. She couldn't bring herself to conspire against her husband but she did not go out of her way to back up Hal either. Wendy had used her motherly powers of interrogation sparingly over the years.
Now Stacy had to answer a direct question. Had she slept well? "Uh... not really. Kind of stressed I guess. Glad I'm getting some time off." she said weakly.
"Well, I hope you can relax and enjoy it. I slept well, by the way." said Wendy.
"I'm glad" Stacy said. ~Is this conversation as awkward as it feels?~ She wondered. Her mother had something on her mind.
"Something did wake me up early this morning though." her mother went on, a smile beginning to dawn in her eyes.
Stacy froze. She felt her face get warm. She opened her mouth but couldn't think of what to say. Why couldn't her mother just pretend nothing had happened?
Wendy let her daughter squirm for a few seconds before reaching a hand to touch her daughter's across the table. "Stace honey, look at me."
Stacy did. Were there tears in her mother's eyes? Stacy was confused and embarrassed and a little mad at her mother but Wendy just said, "Oh baby I'm so glad Jared is good to you. I was so worried. I was afraid you'd get stuck with a damn sexless prig like I did."
Stacy was speechless. Her mouth just hung open until she clomped it shut before the scrambled eggs slid out. She swallowed. "Whaaa?"
Wendy was grinning and crying. "Jared's good to you, right baby? I heard you this morning. You sounded so happy! And my god, I thought it would never end!"
She leaned even closer and whispered "Hearing you two made my panties so wet."
Stacy dropped her fork and covered her face. "OH god, I'm going to die." she groaned.
Her mother made placating gesture. "Ssh ssh ssh, no no dear. Don't be that way. Don't ever be ashamed of being happy. I wouldn't have said anything except... well I don't know, I'm just jealous I guess." Then she hastened to add, "But very happy for you."
The two women were silent for a bit. Wendy sipped her coffee. Hands still over her face, Stacy spread her fingers and looked at her mother. "I knew you must have heard us. I was afraid you'd be mad."
"For heaven's sake, why? Dear, there's nothing wrong with sex." Wendy sighed. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I was never there for you, was I?" Wendy looked down at her empty plate. "I've been worried about you. I thought we might have screwed you up."
Stacy lowered her hands. "What do you mean? You and dad? How?"
Wendy made an angry gesture. "Oh, your father. If I'd know what a fucking prude he was I never would have married him!"
"Mother!" Stacie yelped, appalled.
"I thought he was just inexperienced and shy. He was kind of cute and let's face it dear, his family was loaded. So I married him. I thought the sex would get better but it really, really did not get better."
Still appalled, the daughter couldn't help but ask, "What do you mean?"
Wendy pressed her lips together. "I shouldn't be talking about this. It's not fair to your father. He can't help what he is and I choose to stay with him. I guess I'm weak or a coward or something."
She gazed at her daughter, "But I really shouldn't have let his hang ups prevent me from teaching you about the world like a mother should."
"Woah, just back up mom. You were a great mother! What do you mean you thought you screwed me up?"
"Well we never talked about sex. Or boys. Your father has this attitude about sex; that it's gross and unpleasant and he thought he could shelter you or something." Wendy let out a breath through puffed up cheeks. "I didn't think it was right for a wife to defy her husband on something like that so I kind of just followed his lead."
Stacy just sat there for a bit. "Well mom, whatever you were worried about, everything is fine. Jared and I are very happy and I don't have any hang-ups or whatever." She briefly had a couple of thoughts about what she and Jared and also some of their swinging friends had gotten up to. She wondered how her mother would react to all the revelations she could lay on her. Then she chilled inside at the mere thought. Perhaps her mother was not as prudish as Stacy had always assumed but there was having a happy sex life with her husband and there was getting royally fucked in a room full of naked swingers.
Silence drug on. Awkwardly, Stacy asked, "So, dad isn't..." what was she going to say? Good in bed? "Isn't, uh, interested in sex?"
Wendy shook her head, lips pressed thin again. "No. I don't think they had a word for it back when we met but now-a-days he'd probably be considered a-sexual or something." She let the words sink in for a moment. "It's not even about morality or religion or anything, he just doesn't seem to be wired for sex!" She said, the final sentence coming out in a rising rush of exasperation.
"He hasn't touched me in twenty years." she added quietly.
What could a daughter say to that? But it made her wonder what kind of person her mother had been before marriage. Before she could think better of it, the words tumbled out of her mouth. "Was dad your first?"
Wendy looked quietly at her daughter. Well, she'd failed her as a budding woman and also, she had just asked a direct question. Knowing how Stacy felt about those, the mother could do nothing but answer truthfully."
"No, he wasn't. Not by at least a dozen." she said.
All Stacy could say was "Woah."
In for a penny, in for a pound. Turn about is fair play. What's good for the goose... "Was Jared your first?"
Stacy shook her head. "But I don't think there were more than ten before Jared." She very carefully did not think about the count since Jared.
Wendy kind of chuckled. "Well then I guess we really didn't screw you up."
At this point, the conversation should either just end or... follow certain logical paths. For some reason, after hearing her daughter and son-in-law make love that morning and making her confessions, Wendy just couldn't let the subject drop.
"When, uh, when was your first? I mean, I guess... how old were you?"
Stacy froze. She had seen the logical path of this conversation as well... and had expected her mother to drop it. Well, if Wendy thought she owed her daughter something, she could bear the bulk of the load. "You first. When did you loose your cherry, mother?" she asked, her voice nearly cracking under the tension of the question.
Wendy sighed. "Okay, that's fair. I was fifteen. He was nineteen. And it was really good." There was a hint of defiant challenge in her voice. "So, how about you?"
Stacy pursed her lips, trying not to show shock. At least a dozen lovers and started at fifteen? Jesus, she didn't know her mother at all. "Uh... huh. I was seventeen. So was he. Honestly, I was a little disappointed. But he seemed to enjoy himself." she said.
The wall clock ticked loudly. Both women were staring at their hands. Screw it, thought Stacy, they'd gone too far to stop now. "Dad really hasn't touched you for twenty years?"
Wendy shook her head. "Not that anything before that was any good." Her head came up quickly. "Honey, I owe a lot to your father. He's been very good to us. In most respects, he is a good father and husband. I don't want to be mean or anything. And I don't hate him even though I get very frustrated at times."
She went on doggedly, "But the truth is, Hal is terrible in bed. Even when we were sometimes having intercourse, usually months would go by with nothing and I have never climaxed with him." She laughed in nervous misery. "I call it intercourse not because I'm a prude but because what your father does really isn't more than that."
"Oh god how I miss getting fucked!" she suddenly screamed, making Stacy jerk back from the table. Before her chair even settled to the floor Wendy had her arms up in something resembling surrender. "Sorry! I'm fine. Damn it. It's just that for so long I've had to... suppress my feelings. Hearing you two this morning kind of knocked me for a loop."
Nervous laughter again... Wendy's emotions were all over the map. "I did more than just get wet in the panties this morning, Staci-cakes. I rubbed out two really nice ones and ended up crying in my pillow... not sad, just... I don't know, a lot of things."
What disturbed Stacy most about the statement was the way it made her own groin twist just a little. Licking dry lips she asked, "Have you ever had an affair? Seems like, I don't know, maybe that would be the right thing to do in a weird way if dad is the way you say he is."
Her mother sighed, "No. Like I said, I'm a coward. I used to pick out who in the neighbourhood I wanted to have passionate affairs with but never had the courage to do anything about it."
"Do you... do anything else to release the... pressure?" The daughter asked, blush hot again across her face. But Wendy didn't seem embarrassed, just generally unsettled.
"I can't say I never have but I don't makes habit of it. Over the years I've learned a little release is actually a lot worse that just total suppression. So I just avoid the subject of sex as much as I can."
Mrs. Schnabel grinned crookedly. "Couldn't suppress it this morning though. I came so close to sneaking down the hall to take a peak!"
The notion of her mother spying on her and Jared and getting hot and bothered nearly split Stacy's psyche in two. First her puss gave a hot little twist and then she went cold with shock. Getting caught by her parents had always been a deep instinctive fear of hers. Hearing her mother's words and the image they conjured just felt so wrong.
But because Stacy was not a prude or felt any genuine shame about her sexuality, the notion still turned her on a bit.
Emotionally confused, Stacy stood up from the table. "Mom, I..." She stopped and started again. "Mom, I need to clear my head. This isn't the reaction I expected. Can we drop the subject for now?"
"Sure, dear." her mother answered.
Stacy turned to go. "I'll get dressed and then we can go to that craft fair I mentioned." And Stacy escaped the kitchen.