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THE SANDS RUNNING OUT. . . . Our Last Stay At The Beach House As Lovers
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It's been a good while since I've blogged, and I'm not in much good shape to blog now. . . .but I'll try.
The novelty of the self-induced lactation kicked our sex life into high gear, inspring us to lots of yummy and thrilling BDSM tinged hijinx. Outfits were bought, scenarios were played out, and the intensity seemed to dispell the dark cloud of our impending breakup. . . for awhile.
It had taken weeks and weeks of strict dedication to get my breasts producing milk, but I suffered through it because it had long been a secret fetish for us both, and frankly, I rather wanted to get it out of the way so that Mom wouldn't feel deprived or tempted one day when I was lactating for my firstborn. I didn't want there to be regrets about things we hadn't done, and we've pretty much done everything else with each other we ever had a strong desire to do.
But as I said, it only worked as a delicious distraction for awhile. Exciting as it is, time still ticks away, and the weight of reality started to crush my spirit. I hid my tears again, though I'd been told not to. Eventually she found me out, collapsed in a miserable sobbing heap when I thought she was safely napping in the next room. She made me swear (again) to never cry alone, and then she held me and comforted me as best she could, telling me she owed me a full decade of comforting that she never gave me in my youth when I really needed it, and that she would never consider that debt really repaid, and to never shrink from sharing my tears with her. All of this conversation was punctuated by the usual kisses and loving caresses that are the norm between us now. It suddenly struck me that I'd have given ANYTHING for a quarter of this beautiful, nurturing care when I was living in exile with Dad. Why had it taken me actually seducing her to finally wring this out of her??? The thought almost made me angry with her all over again.
But then I realized, it wasn't really true. It hadn't been the seduction, it had been the confession. Once she'd finally told me the truth, and shown me the tears of her shame and remorse, that broke that spell forever. Had I done what a loving daughter OUGHT to have done, and accepted her apologies and forgiven her, our love would have been healed. I truly believe that she would have opened her heart to me from that moment, and been loving and compassionate towards me, as she always had been before I was 12. How many times had she cried alone with her own pain over those years? How many secret tears had she shed more recently? We concentrated on my tears and emotions so much in our relationship, being the child. . . .her baby. She was in tears now too.
"Make me a pact" I said, kissing the tears from her cheeks "I won't hide my tears from you, and you don't hide yours from me. I adore you. . . nothing will ever take that from my heart. I've wounded you too, and don't protest. . . I know I have, throwing myself at you."
"I'm the Mother, I am the responsible party Tabby."
"Don't let's argue Beloved . . . make me a pact, promise me."
"I promise my Love."
I'll try my best to keep my end of the bargain . . but I'm not so certain about Mom. She hides her true feelings even from herself sometimes, which I have no talent for.
She surprised me by informing me that she'd be taking the last two weeks of the month off from work to spend it with me. She was having friends take my boxes back to my apartment for me and unpack so as to spare me the sadness of the ritual. When our last two weeks were over I'd return to my apartment almost as though the last several months had never happened, and maybe it would soften the blow a little. I doubted it would soften it that much, but it might remove a bit of the sting. Anyway, it was a wonderful and very loving gesture on her part, and would be no small sacrifice for her work wise. There wasn't an awful lot she could really do to soothe the hurt that was inevitable, but she was clearly doing all she could. Spoiling me as usual, but I knew that letting her spoil me was a way I could help soften the blow for her too.
So . . . here we are. The sea is beautiful out the window and sun is dipping lower. Soon my Beloved will wake from her nap and make me doll myself up for an expensive dinner. She's left her brown wig at home this time, as per my request, so we might get a couple of curious stares when we kiss in public.
Wish me luck . . . I don't know what else to say for the moment. I'll write when I can.
~ Tabby
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Posted on : Jul 15, 2017
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Commented on Jul 17, 2017
The way you tactfully Went There without going there. . . I think you are a born diplomat PervoSlave, and I very much appreciate your kindness.
The saving grace in this admittedly ridiculous situation is how much we truly love each other, and how willing we are to sacrifice for each others' happiness. Neither of us wants to ends this, but we are both all too keenly aware of how the shit will eventually hit the fan if we don't.
The truth is, I know she'd let me stay if that's what I really wanted. If I told her I wanted this that much, she'd throw caution and her own safety to the wind for my happiness . . but I just cannot let her do that. She has much more to lose than I, and I couldn't live with myself if my selfishness caused her ruin.
If I didn't want a family, I might be very very sorely tempted. I might be just naive enough to believe we could hide this for years and years . . . but I DO want children, and a marriage. I wish with all my heart and soul that I could marry her and have children with her, but that is just not reality.
Lastly, she is 42 and an extremely beautiful woman, but the more of her time I take, the lower her chances of finding a true love she Doesn't have to hide. I can't claim to love her and stand in the way of her long term happiness.
When most relationships break up, people part and rarely if ever see each other. The exception are marriages where children are involved. Where there are family ties like that, there is no real breaking up. Our situation is similar in a (very) strange way. We'll have to deal with each other for the rest of our lives, and we can NEVER undo what we have done. We'll just have to learn to forge our way through this.
I confess this now:
As long as this never comes to light and causes terrible damage to my Mom. . ..I do NOT regret it. May the Lord forgive me. . I would do it all again, and be damn the tears and the heartache. I believe to the marrow of my bones that this was some how fated to happen, and that it has taught us Both something crucial about Love. We neither of us did this primarily for the sexual thrill. I think we both felt profoundly compelled to our actions.
I do NOT say that what we did was 'right', I can never be so bold as to make that claim. . .but what we did, we both did for Love. I feel in my heart that the Lord understands this, and will forgive us our weaknesses if we do the right thing, and that is what we Will do.
I can only beg those of you now reading this not to judge us too harshly, whatever your own convictions, and I thank you deeply and sincerely for your kindness in advance. Thank You.
~ Tabby
P.S. Sorry this comment was so far beyond ridiculously long. ~T
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Commented on Jul 16, 2017
Thanks Hunny, it was very very nice.
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Commented on Jul 15, 2017
Good luck 😊 I hope dinner is lovely!
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