The Threesome Chronicles:
Mary Evans
Chapter 2
The Bikini Age – A Mother’s Nightmare
I eventually downloaded the incredible video to the computer when he commented shortly after that it was killing his phone’s memory. It had never occurred to him to save it or even watch it. He never mentioned it again.
First came Julianna, whom we called Jules for short, followed by Brendan, whom we called Beebee. Brendan was born when Jules was two-and-a-half and she had a hard time pronouncing his name, so her toddler-babble nickname stuck. They were bright happy children, with the world stretched out before them and infinite possibilities beckoning.
Whether it was post-partem in its nature, or just a fucking fact of life, my brightness and happiness began slowly to ebb away. My husband, Micah, was a hard worker, but as the children grew, he became an obsessed workaholic, often bringing his work laptop home and spreading all his papers and computer out on the kitchen table, becoming so absorbed that he became oblivious to my needs, which were percolating constantly under the surface.
Soon even weekends became devoted to his work. As the business began to expand, many out-of-town clients came for end-of-the-week visits to the city and Micah was always called on to entertain them. This meant that babysitters had to be arranged, clothes had to be cleaned and presentable, and long nights involving dinners and night clubs had to be arranged. Outwardly, we were the happy couple, talkative and pleasant to be around, and gracious hosts. Inwardly, I was empty of feelings, acting out the parts assigned to me as if in a play, but the backstage was a void of dark and gloomy props, gathering dust and cobwebs from disuse and neglect.
“Was this what life was meant to be?” I would ask myself in the solitary moments when all seemed void and empty. Sex had become a weekend activity after Beebee was born, but then it became once or twice a month, then nothing. The children grew and I devoted my energy to make sure they were active in sports, theater, ballet, and any number of other activities. My greatest happiness was seeing them grow and thrive in this world. I would not have been able to get through my sex-deprived years without them.
The years passed and I continued to love my husband, but ‘loving’ was more a matter of ‘caring,’ which I chose as a substitute for that which I had lost, along with my childhood romantic dreams. But things were to change very quickly.
It was a sultry summer afternoon, humidity high, and the heat index driving people indoors, except for the young, who wore so little as to be ashamed of. Indeed, girls who would blush to be seen in their winter underthings, wore far less in their summer outerwear, especially at the beach. And sıhhiye escort thus was the spark ignited which kindled a new fire that phoenix-like, brought our sex life to new heights.
We actually lived about an hour inland from the coast, so our annual visit to the beach was an important family tradition. During spring break Jules and I always went shopping for our summer beach ensemble. She was now fourteen and as cute as could be, and, like most girls in their early teens, was prone to exhibit more skin than they should, not realizing fully the effect such exposition had upon the male population. This particular summer, she also wanted to invite her new friend to come along. Her name was Brynn, and she was a rising senior and captain of the cheerleading squad. She was a good influence on Jules, striking up an immediate friendship even though they were two and a half years separated in age. Both of them bonded because of their unquenchable energy and vitality which seemed to bubble over constantly at the slightest prompting. They were constantly on the go and, quite frankly, wore me out.
Our springtime shopping trip was to be a challenge for all of us. I had talked with Micah regarding the issue. Jules was determined to purchase her first bikini, and I wasn’t sure I had a legitimate reason to argue against it. Almost everyone else her age at the beach had transferred over to bikini’s, and Brynn, being seventeen, would certainly be sporting one. I was constantly arguing over the issue in my own mind. Was it because I didn’t want Jules to grow up? There is always that nagging doubt in all parents’ minds that their children are still too young. But the years flow past, and time cannot be halted, nor can they be innocent forever. Tears would come to my eyes at the most inopportune moments, puzzling Micah and the children, but I couldn’t help myself.
Then, one weekend in March, we went to the mall, all the stores sporting the latest swimsuit styles. Many stores were selling a style that had been very popular in the latest Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. I forget the model, but the suit she was wearing consisted of two boob triangles made of french lace, with a semi-transparent underlining that gave a hint to the sight of what lay beneath. Likewise the triangle covering the crotch was of the same material, held in place, as was the bra, by a string. The girls couldn’t wait to try it on, although I was nervous to see my Jules so exposed. When they were ready to come out of the dressing room, I took a deep breath and tried to keep an open mind.
They stepped out and my heart stopped. There was Jules, but where had my baby gone? She looked into my eyes, seeking approval. Should I give it? Could I give it? Only a mother tandoğan escort reading this could possibly understand the anguish in my mind. By donning the suit she was basically imploring me to allow her the maturity that she so desired. I sized up the situation, comparing the differences between the two girls. Jules was certainly cute, even a budding beauty to be honest. Luckily, she had her father’s blond hair and light complexion, so that her more private areas were hardly noticeable through the thin diaphanous fabric beneath the lace. Not so in the case of Brynn, whose darker complexion and hair made a more pronounced appearance. I actually felt Jules was safer wearing the suit than Brynn, and her parents had left the decision to me, trusting me to keep them covered, but I couldn’t possibly say no to Brynn and yes to a girl two years younger.
The girls were nothing if not perceptive, and they clearly read the struggle on my face. Brynn understood my dilemma and spoke for the two of them.
“C’mon, Jules, it was fun trying them on, but we’re asking too much of your mother.”
I appreciated Brynn’s maturity and understanding. They turned and walked towards the dressing rooms. The string thong disappeared between their butt-cheeks, emerging at the top in a tiny triangle that led to ties on the hips. Honestly, their discomfort was nil, and they wore them with confidence and grace. But they were walking away so deflated and disappointed, that I couldn’t help myself.
“Wait,” I cried. “Come over here and let’s talk for a few minutes.”
We sat on some benches around the corner from the dressing rooms next to an air conditioning vent, giving us a pleasant chill from the oppressive heat outside.
“You realize the thoughts you will engender in any man who sees you in these swimsuits?” I asked. “Men will immediately objectify you and cast you in their erotic fantasies. Is that what you want?”
Brynn thought for a moment, looking down at her ensemble, weighing her response carefully.
“Men are always casting us in their erotic fantasies,” she replied. “That is simply what men do. When Jules and I are out on the field as cheerleaders, doing handstands that obviously have only one object, namely creating erotic fantasies when our skirts expose the panties beneath, how is that any different from these suits?”
“The point is,” she continued, “it is not the thoughts of those who see us that are of concern here. It is our thinking that determines who we are.”
“And what, exactly, are you thinking when you are wearing those suits,” I pressed her to explain.
She glanced at Jules, realizing that everything depended on her answer.
“I’m thinking that we are young once only, and beautiful. tunalı escort Why hide it? If beauty is fleeting, as the poets tell, should those who are given the gift of radiance and youth, not share it with others? The artist will admire the form, the lecher will be the pig he is. We have no control over them, but we possess what we have for reasons that wiser souls than mine have pondered for centuries. Please, Mrs. Evans, Jules and I will not only be careful, but will act with propriety if you buy us these swimsuits.”
“You know,” I retorted, “that if I buy these for you, I am, in effect, letting you walk around practically naked in front of hundreds of eyes? Especially you, Brynn. You have to admit that your… ahem… attributes are even more accentuated by these suits.”
“Please don’t be upset with me, Mrs. Evans, but I would readily walk the beach in the nude if I was allowed. It’s not that I have no shame. It is because I possess a confidence that defies shame.”
I must admit, I was impressed by her answer. Perhaps if I had an ounce of her confidence, I would not be living the empty life I was caught up in. She was so infectious with her smile and manner, I sometimes forgot that she was wearing practically nothing. I determined then and there that I would possess that confidence somehow, and restore my life to its youthful vigor. I looked up from my thoughts and stared at the two girls who had turned into women just moments ago. The world was theirs, and it would also be mine if I had the determination to make it so.
“Ok,” I said, hoping I would not regret my decision, realizing that making that decision was not only a big step for them, but for myself.
Their faces instantly became radiant as they jumped up and down, screaming in their delight. I was, at that moment, possibly the greatest mom a girl could have. As they practically danced on air back to the dressing rooms, I wandered through the racks, looking at the swimsuits hanging row upon row, french-laced and diaphanous. I realized I had not yet picked out a new suit for myself. I walked down the aisle toward the one-piece racks that were more my size.
Suddenly I stopped dead in my tracks. What was I doing? Where had my previous ‘self’ retreated to? When I was in high school, my best friend, Candice, and I had a saying that we often repeated to each other…
“Conquer, or be conquered.”
Candice was now Brynn’s mother. I texted a short message and a quick picture I took of the girls in their suits, just to make sure I had her support for my decision. She texted me back a terse, but mindful, reply.
“Whale tails & boners.”
I burst out laughing in the middle of the store. In fact, I was laughing so hard, tears were in my eyes. Brynn and Jules came out of the dressing rooms, asking what was so funny. I showed them the text, which they read with puzzled looks.
“Let’s go to the food court, girls, I’ll explain it there.”
“But Mom” exclaimed Jules, “you haven’t picked out a suit yet.”
“Yes, I have,” I shot back. “It’s in the bag.”
We walked to the food court and ordered pizza and sat down.