Susan's Saturday Night Sex Ch. 09

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Unceremoniously removing his cock from her cunt was as if she was removing a plunger from a sink. With him so deep inside of her and with her so very sticky wet, the suction between them was quite severe and strong enough for her to have some difficulty pulling away from him. As if they were two dogs in heat, they worked to pull themselves free. Finally free of him, not basking in the afterglow, saddened by her thoughts of Steven and by the baby she had forsaken, she climbed off of him and off of his bed. Eager to flee, she grabbed a few tissues from the nightstand, wiped herself, and discarded the tissues in his bucket. Then, expecting it and waiting for it, he said something that they all say.

"Can I see you again next week?"

If she had a dollar every time a man asked her that question, she'd have a stack of money. Actually, being that she's sucked and fucked more than 350 young men, she'd have more than three hundred and fifty dollars, not so much. Three hundred and fifty dollars was worth an hour of her time that she gave to patients to help with their emotional problems. Obviously, she was the one who needed help now with her emotional problems. Only, twisted and torn, he was so different than any man she had bedded before and part of her wanted to say yes to seeing him again. He was such a beautiful boy of a man.

"See me again?" She looked at him as if he was nuts. Then, with the sad eyes of a mother forsaking her son again, she looked at him as if she wanted to say yes. "I don't think so," she said caving a little bit. Hurriedly she started dressing quicker than she undressed.

"Are you married? Is that why you can't see me again? If you are married, I understand and I promise to be discreet," he said with persevering with pathetic eyes.

Always figuring she had made the right choice, marriage over career and psychiatrist over mother, she wasn't so certain of it now. Having played the role of a mother so often and with so very many different men, she would have made a good mother. Actually, somewhat telling that she played the mother while thinking that she was doing that for the men when, possibly, she was playing that extended role for herself. She looked at him lying there looking at her so hopeful that she'd stay and/or agree to seeing him again.

"No," she said suddenly wanting to take him home with her as if he was her son.

As if he was indeed her son, not wanting to abandon him again, she didn't want to leave. Suddenly, no doubt in the same way that Jennifer Lopez nurtures and counsels her 20 year younger than she is lover, she wanted to nurture him instead of having sex with him. Wanting to hold him against her breasts, she wanted to mother him. She wanted to shower him with affection and with gifts as if he truly was her son even though she knew in her heart that he wasn't.

So lost and so lonely, it took this boy of a man for her to see all that she's given up to be a Harvard trained psychiatrist. How can she possibly help anyone, when she can't even help herself? It took this nineteen-year-old child of a man for her to see how ridiculous her life has become with her having weekly sex with anonymous, young men. It's time she put Steven behind her. It's time she found someone else to love and someone who would love her back, so that she could move on with her life.

She looked at him again. Of course, she'd have sex with him again too but for some reason, perhaps because he was so young and perhaps because he reminded her so much of Steven, he brought out her motherly feelings. Feelings that she's put aside and denied for the sake of her education and career, she suddenly had now with him. What was that all about, she wondered? Why was he doing this to her?

Yet, just as she couldn't imagined playing his mother, she couldn't imagine herself playing the subordinate housewife while waiting for her husband to come home and pretend to care for their children. Never a cold bitch before, she had become not only a cold bitch now but also a bold bitch after Steven dumped her. Yet, with this young Steven, as if he was her opportunity to make things right by mothering him, albeit incestuously mothering him in a sexual way, she suddenly wanted to stay. She wanted to be the mother he never had and she wanted him to be the son she abandoned. Only, when she analyzed her thoughts as a psychiatrist would, it was all so ridiculous.

"Are you in a serious relationship?"

Not even having a cat or a dog to keep her company, other than her Saturday night sex with a new young man each week, the only serious relationship she had was with her work.

"No," she said suddenly sad that she had no one in her life.

"Do you have a son?"

A son? Ha! She had a son. If she had kept the son she had with Steven, she imagined him looking just like the naked man before her. If she had kept the son she had with Steven, no doubt, he would be him. The only child she had, someone so precious and so lost, she abandoned him to save herself by putting him up for adoption. Why did she do that? How could she do that?

Now she wished she hadn't given her baby away when Steven impregnated her. If she still had her baby, her son would be about the same age as Steven. Surprised that she hasn't met someone like him sooner, this was a sick joke being played on her to make her feel that she had made a colossal mistake in choosing her education and career over caring for her child. Something she couldn't envision before, she could clearly see now. She could have had a normal life without Steven, a life with her son beside her. Maybe the reason she met Steven twenty years ago was to have her son. Only, not seeing it that way before and too late to fix it now, she can clearly see it things that way now.

"I don't have any children," she said with sadness while wanting to tell him about the baby she put up for adoption.

Always wanting children before and thinking that she'd marry Steven, have children, and live happily ever after, he destroyed her dream when he broke up with her. She always wanted a dog but, not fair to the dog, with her always working late and disappearing for hours every Saturday night, she was never home. Now her life is her patients and Saturday night sex.

"Then I don't understand. Why can't I see you again?"

Certainly good looking and young enough, he wasn't that good looking or that young enough that she'd want to see him again when there were a thousand other men just like him and better. Actually, kidding herself, he was that good looking and that young enough that she'd want to see him again and again. Moreover, there was just something about him that was so different from any other young man that she bedded. As if she had known her before and as if he was her son in another life, there was something about him that she liked. As if he was her missing piece, someone who could make her whole again, there was something about him that she loved.

There was something about him that made her want to break her rule and see him again. There was something about him that, for the first time since she's been having sex with men on a Saturday night, made her want a more permanent relationship with him. Yet, other than for sex, why would someone like him want someone like her? Twenty-two years older than him, she was old enough to be his mother. Why would he entangle his life with her? No doubt, they'll be another young, handsome man next Saturday night. Without a doubt, just like him who pretended that he was having sex with his mother while fucking her, they'll be another young man wanting to take her home with him.

"Seeing one another again is not a good idea and doesn't work for me," she said with coldness as if he was asking her for another appointment for therapy instead of asking her for sex.

Only, with something holding her there, she didn't want to leave. She suddenly had that panicked feeling that a mother has when she loses sight of her child in a store. He was here with her now but if she left him, she knew that she'd never see him again. She knew that if she left him that she'd have an anxiety attack while thinking that she made the wrong decision of abandoning him in the way that she abandoned her baby boy twenty years ago. Yet, just as she was educated enough to know that one had nothing to do with the other, she was educated enough to know that one exactly had to do with the other.

Undeniably, she wanted to have sex with him again and again. Undeniably, having never taken a permanent lover before, since Steven, she was thinking about taking one with him now. In the way that he pretended that she was his mother, with him physically reminding her of Steven anyway, she wanted to pretend that he was Steven. She wanted to pretend that she was that innocent, virginal, college coed again. She wanted to pretend that this was her second chance at love. She wanted to pretend that he truly was her son. Only, such torture to do that to herself, she couldn't pretend that any man was Steven or was her son, even this man who reminded her so much of her lost love and her abandoned baby boy.

"Okay," he said seemingly accepting her answer without feeling the obvious rejection of it.

She dumped her stuff in her purse before looking around the room to see if she had left anything behind.

"Okay cowboy. I'm done with this little rodeo. Adieus amigo," she said getting ready to leave.

As if she was a prostitute leaving her John at a rented hotel room, she put her hand to the doorknob.

To be continued...