“You want me to put away the groceries, then?” Tamera asked, knowing what happened when her mother got wound up on the maudlin subject of just-the-two-of-them.
“I’ve got so many troubles, I don’t even sleep any more.”
“Sure you do,” Tamera said. “Don’t take so many pills, that’s all. They’re not good for you.” She didn’t mention the pints of brandy that her mother kept by her bedside. “But honest, Mom, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Nothing a good man wouldn’t cure, Tamera thought. Her mother was a very lovely woman, with a good figure and svelte, smoothly tapered legs, and she should have somebody to replace the father and husband which had been missing for six years now. It wasn’t right that her mother should deny herself the love and passion of a man, not right at all—but Tamera knew better than to bring up that subject. The few times she had in the past, her head had been chopped off, for her mother considered such talk sinful. Her mother was definitely a product of her mother’s Victorian generation.
“Well, if you must leave me alone, you must.” Carla sighed. “You know that I’m tired and need you to help me.”
“I’ll be in early, Mother, and help tomorrow. You’ll be all right this evening, won’t you?” Sure she will, Tamera thought. Nothing the matter with her except neglect. That’s why all the aches and pains; she’s looking for sympathy and interest—why, the doctor as much told me that when I saw him last. Neglect and disuse, that’s all the matter with her, neglect of mind and body. Why couldn’t she break down her old-fashioned ways and be the real woman that she is underneath those imaginary black ankle-length skirts and whale-bone corsets…
“Oh, I realize I’m only being a selfish old lady,” Carla said, smiling. “It’s your time to be out and find your man. I’ve had my love, now better luck with yours.”
“You haven’t finished loving, Mother,” Tamera said sharply. “You’re only thirty-five, and a beautiful thirty-five at that!”
“I know. I have you, dearest child.”
“That’s not what I meant! I—Ohhh, what’s the use.” Tamera turned and started across the room. “I have to get dressed now, Mom.”
Carla looked at her beautiful offspring tenderly as the almost naked Tamera padded barefoot into the hallway. She was slightly disturbed at her child, because Tamera had almost spoken—and was no doubt thinking—what she herself hadn’t dared to think at her young age. But she couldn’t stay mad or upset for long, and she felt herself warming with love and affection at the radiant, tanned body, the cornsilk hair fanning out behind her head, the way her conical young breasts beat with the rhythm of her heart, solid and not as large as her own, but then not fully developed, either. And Carla had to admire with pride her daughter’s smooth flat belly and cute navel and the gentle sloping to her thighs, where she knew there was a down of softly curling pubic hair slightly thinner than her own—at the moment covered by merely a wisp of sheer nylon—and the pink petals of her still untouched young vagina. Her tight, almost boyish buttocks swayed gently as she walked toward her bedroom, and her feet, small, with delicate toes…
Still, she couldn’t help fearing that Tamera was perhaps emerging into maturity faster than she should, and that she wasn’t experiencing the joys of childhood. Was Tamera growing up too fast? And then Carla laughed wryly, realizing that she was being foolish. She was overprotective, desperately clutching her child to her bosom because that was all that was left. No husband, not since Arnold died, and there wouldn’t be another—not so long as the memory of her one true love was still fresh and poignant in her mind. Six years… but the telegram from the Army saying he’d been killed in a munitions accident could have arrived yesterday for all the dulling effects of time. No, Tamera was of this generation, a world faster than her own. There was no cause to worry… Tamera might not be the mental innocent that she had been at fifteen—but she was still as physically pure, that Carla was sure of.
With another long-drawn sigh, Carla West lifted herself out of her chair and began taking the groceries into the kitchen. They weren’t going to put themselves away, that was for sure…
Tamera had showered when she’d returned from the park, so her dressing consisted merely of putting on whatever outfit she chose to wear that evening. She stopped before the mirror in her bedroom, gazing with satisfaction at the voluptuously curved body her attractive mother and father had given her, and again studied the way her panties outlined her slightly puffy little cuntal mound. She tugged the panties up with her fingers until the smooth round cheeks of her buttocks and the thin divide of her vaginal slit were tightly impressed into the soft nylon and she giggled with secret delight. Then she slipped into a mini-skirted jumper, the top of which covered her breasts but still gave the impression that she was naked underneath. A summer dress, befitting the heat—and good for getting a boy like Eddie all hot and bothered. But she’d handle him, she thought to herself as she smoothed out the thin, light yellow material, and she’d stop his crude passes tonight, just as she had last week, but she was going to have loads of fun getting up to that point…
She began to comb her softly waving hair, and again she looked at herself in the mirror, seeing the way the mini-skirt clung to her buttocks and was more than half way up her tanned thighs, with slight creases in front where her legs joined her hips. With sudden awareness, she realized that she could almost see the lips of her vagina—was the jumper too daring for tonight? A forbidden thrill raced through her. Well, she’d soon know!
There was a sudden, shrill blast of a born, and the “rumm-rumm!” of a car engine being revved. Eddie was here! Early at that!
She shoved her feet into a pair of scuffed loafers and ran out of her room. “Mom!” she called, “I’m going now!”
“Aren’t you going to give your mother a kiss?” Carla said from the kitchen.
“Sure,” Tamera said, and hurried into the kitchen to peck her mother on the cheek. “Now, take care,” she said.
“You take care, darling,” Carla admonished.
“I will, and I’ll be home early, like I said.”
“Scat, before I change my mind,” her mother said smiling.
Tamera was gone quick as a wink, her exit a slammed front door and the squeal of tires on the pavement as Eddie’s car roared down the otherwise quiet residential street.
Carla West went to their own car, a beat-up old station wagon, and took the last sack of groceries into the house and began putting the groceries away. She stared morosely at the stuff she’d bought. The silence of the house oppressed her for it’s emptiness. It was always thus when Tamera wasn’t home with her, and with the remembrances of Arnold and his death, the house seemed to be like a tomb to her, still as death and just as vacant.
She went into her own bedroom then, wanting to take a cooling bath and wondering if it would be worth the trouble afterwards to prepare the special steak she’d bought for Tamera and herself—before she’d known that her daughter wouldn’t be home to share it. A tear welled in one eye and she blinked it away rapidly as she slipped out of her shorts and blouse, putting them in the clothes hamper on her way into the bathroom. She placed the stopper in the tub and ran water in it—lukewarm the way she liked it on muggy summer days such as this one—and as she waited for the water to fill up, she looked down at herself in a critically detached way, as a woman does when seeing how age has affected her.
Yet her mind still dwelt on her child. She was thinking how Tamera would one day make a good wife for a man, and that no matter how lonely and sad she felt when her daughter left, it was selfish not to allow her to be with boys her own age. When the right man came along, Carla was certain that Tamera would give herself in marital relations totally and completely, just as she herself had done with Arnold. As I may yet do again…
The thought of her own secret sexual desires made Carla blush with shame, but as she gazed down at her own naked body, she had to admit that she still had much to offer a man. I’ve a good shape… and if I’m lucky I’ll be able to please another man with the same intensity and passion as I offered Arnold. Until then, I’ll hold myself in reserve, just as if I were a virgin again…
Her flaxen blonde hair was longer than her daughter’s and she experimentally let it fall down over her shoulders and curl provocatively around the ruby nipples of her cream-white breasts. God, I still look very brazen and sensual that way… then shame-faced at her thoughts, she swept her hair back up again and raised her arms over her head, stretching her breasts and loins taut, in a classic nude pose. She stood that way for a long moment, letting her eyes scan the lovely smooth flesh of her torso, having to admire in honest appraisal the flat surface of her abdomen and the tiny dimple of her navel, then the soft fluffy hair of her pubic triangle, golden and very fine. She could see the pink lips of her vagina and the tip of her clitoris peeking shyly out from the soft puffy slit of her
