Watched at Home (2 page)

But I needed to hear his voice, so I called.
When he first picked up I could hear the fear in his hello,
wondering why I was calling him at three in the morning. But I
assured him that everything was alright, and that I was sad because
I had broken up with my boyfriend. I knew if I told him the truth,
he would be on the next flight and probably end up in jail for
beating the shit out of Steve. He seemed relieved, and we talked
for an hour. When we hung up, I felt warm and happy again, and fell
asleep to nice dreams.

Steve got the message, and avoided me, and I
vowed to stay away from men. But after a month my body convinced me
that decision had been rash, and I modified my vow to only stay
away from men who resembled Shane in any way.

It was back to the nerds. I had to admit I
was having fun, and they seemed very appreciative.

My mind returned to the present as I
successfully removed the image of Shane and the woman from my
head.

He was looking at me with an odd expression.
“You ok?” he asked.

I smiled. “Just happy to hear you’re getting
laid again.”

He gave me a shocked look. “Erica!”

I giggled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I meant to say I’m
happy to hear you have some new female acquaintances with whom you
share a mutual interest.”

He laughed. “Much better.”

“I’ll start on that food list. Thanks again,
Shane.”

He ruffled my hair. “You’re welcome,
Erica.”

I put down the phone and smiled. All my
friends were coming. They had been like me, feeling guilty we
hadn’t talked, and said they would love to get together for a pool
party and relive old times. I silently thanked Shane for his great
idea, and made a mental note to tell him in person when he got home
from work.

I spent the morning by the pool, and had a
late lunch. As I walked back to my room, I passed Shane’s office.
He owned a small electronics supply company, and his home office
was usually full of interesting devices. When I was younger, I used
to come in here and he would show me them and how they worked.
Things like miniature radios, mp3 players, and tiny video cameras.
I loved that he was so smart to understand all of this, but I loved
even more that he would take the time to explain it to me. At that
point, my infatuation with him was normal – just a girl getting to
know her mother’s boyfriend. But all that changed one day when I
came in here by myself.

I was thirteen at the time, and beginning to
understand my own sexuality. I was physically well-developed for my
age, but my social development lagged behind. I was vaguely aware
of what sex was, and I had kissed a few boys. Several months before
I had allowed Mark Gratton – a boy a year older than me – to touch
my breast through my clothes in a movie theater. But when he tried
to go further and slide his hand up my thigh, I stopped him.

But my physical reaction to his touch had
surprised me, as I felt the early stirrings of desire spark within
me. My nipple had stiffened instantly, and I felt a warm wetness
growing between my legs. When I got home, I took my panties off and
discovered they were damp. I worried that Mom would think I peed in
them, so I shoved them under my mattress instead of putting them in
the laundry hamper. That night I laid awake thinking of Mark’s hand
on me, and I surprised myself again by wishing I had let him
continue up my thigh.

I went into Shane’s office knowing he and my
mom had gone to visit his parents, but I wanted to look around
anyway. I sat in his chair and spun around a few times, taking in
all the interesting gadgets around me. Picking one up, I examined
it closely, wishing Shane was here to explain what it was.

I set it down and something else caught my
eye. It was shoved into a cubby hole of the hutch where his
computer sat, and it looked like a music CD. Pulling it out, I saw
it was a homemade DVD in a clear case. On the front, there were two
handwritten words: Hawaii Video.

I stared at it curiously. My mother had met
Shane three years prior, when I was ten years old. She was
thirty-one at the time, and he was twenty-two. I remember my
grandmother not being happy with their difference in ages, but to
me, he was just Shane. I never thought of him as my father, but
just a nice guy who was around. I had never known my real father,
because my Mom told me he wasn’t responsible enough to be a dad, so
she left him before I was born. That was probably the reason she
and Shane never got married – she was afraid of being left
again.

Hawaii Video. I stared at the DVD. Mom and
Shane had gone to Hawaii for two weeks while Grandma came and
stayed with me. I remembered them bringing back a ton of photos,
each more beautiful than the last. Gorgeous blue skies and water,
along with unending beaches dominated each photo. When I looked at
the pictures, I told them I wished they had taken me along with
them. But they looked at each other and laughed, and said maybe
next time.

But I didn’t recall seeing any videos from
the trip. And I was sure I would have remembered. I flipped the
case over in my hand. If this video was half as beautiful as the
photos, I had to see it.

I carried it out to the living room and
popped open the DVD player. After removing the Britney Spears
concert DVD I’d been watching earlier, I replaced it with the
Hawaii DVD.

I grabbed the remote and sat on the couch,
prepared to be astounded by more beautiful scenery. But the first
image that came up was of a hotel room. The camera was still as if
it was sitting on something, and it was pointed directly at the
bed. I could hear the faint sound of voices, and I listened
intently.

A woman giggled and said, “I can’t do this,
I’m too shy.” I realized it was my mom.

Shane’s voice said, “It’s ok. We don’t have
to.”

None of this was making sense to me. What
kind of Hawaii video was this?

After a moment of silence, my mom’s voice
returned. “I think I want to.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Just thinking about it is making me
excited.”

“Me too.”

“I can tell.” She giggled again.

I stared at the screen, my thirteen year old
brain trying to figure it out. Why were they filming a bed?

My mom climbed onto the bed, and my eyes
widened when I saw she was naked.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t her being naked that
struck me as strange. I had seen her that way plenty of times, and
she never made a big deal out of it. But what surprised me was that
she was naked with Shane.

At that time, in my immature mind, your naked
body was something you hid from boys. It had been ingrained in me
since the time I had taken all my clothes off in the middle of
preschool. Boys want to see you naked, and it was your womanly duty
to not let them.

But here was my mom, not only naked in front
of Shane, but seemingly enjoying herself, and not covering up. And
although I kinda knew what sex was, it never occurred to me that
you had to get naked to do it. When I had fantasized about Mark
touching me between my legs, that seemed to be ok. But I could
never let him see what he was touching. That was against the
rules.

Mom sat on the bed, leaning back against the
headboard and pillows. She was blushing, and had one arm over her
breasts and the other cupped between her legs. Much better. She was
covering the important parts.

After a moment, she looked right above the
camera, giggled, and said, “This isn’t a solo act. Get in
here.”

“One sec,” Shane replied, and I saw the
camera pan slightly, centering Mom in the frame. Then a dark shape
passed in front of the lens, which moved away from the camera. I
recognized it as Shane’s muscular back, which I had seen plenty of
times in our pool.

My mouth dropped open again as he climbed up
onto the bed, and his naked butt came into view. That was something
I had never seen, nor wanted to. I clamped my eyes shut and
listened.

I heard the bed shifting, then some kissing
sounds. I had seen Mom and Shane kiss before, so I opened my eyes.
Mom was lying on her back, slightly turned towards Shane as he lay
at her side. Their bodies were pressed together as they kissed, and
the sheet was covering his butt, so it was ok to keep watching.

His hand was running up and down her back,
sliding up onto her butt and squeezing her there. Her arms were
around him, pulling him down to her. I could see the side of her
breast pushing out from where their bodies pressed together.

I became aware that I was getting that
feeling again. The same one I had with Mark. I felt tingly all over
and there was a tightening in my belly, as if I was going to be
sick, but it didn’t hurt at all. And the wetness was there
again.

They stopped kissing and smiled at each
other.

“I love you so much,” Mom said.

“And I love you, my sweet.”

This was their typical mushy talk, which I
usually got grossed out from, but now I watched them with
fascination.

“Are you relaxed now?” Shane asked.

“Mm,” Mom replied, “I feel good. Let’s make a
movie starring us.”

“You’ll always be my star.”

They kissed again, and Shane’s hand trailed
down over her hip, crossing over to her front. She turned her hips
to give him room between them, and his hand slid between her legs,
cupping her there. She sighed and spread her thighs as his hand
moved slowly between them.

I stared at the screen, my eyes as wide as
saucers. What were they doing? Is that what Mark wanted to do to
me?

They continued to kiss, and I noticed that
Shane had slipped one finger between the lips of her poony, and was
pressing it deep. And from her reaction, she was enjoying it very
much.

They did this for a while, as they continued
to kiss, and soon Mom began moving her hips up against his hand. I
stared unblinking, now wishing even more that I had let Mark touch
me there.

Mom’s hand moved up to his shoulder and
pressed him there, as if urging him to move off of her. He
resisted.

She broke the kiss and smiled. “Baby, if you
don’t stop, I’m going to come.”

“Then come,” he whispered.

“Not yet. It’s your turn.”

“If you insist,” he said with a smile and
rolled onto his back.

My breath caught in my throat and the world
seemed to close in around me as I saw Shane lay back on the bed. My
eyes quickly closed again, and I could swear I heard the eyelids as
they snapped shut.

Oh my god. I didn’t see that. I didn’t see
that. I couldn’t have seen that. It was only my imagination.

One time, when I was in sixth grade, I was
sitting by myself at lunch. A group of boys at the next table were
looking at something and laughing in hushed tones. I was curious
about what they had, and tried to secretly crane my neck to see
what it was.

Joey Fatone, an eight-grader and leader of
the gang, saw me trying to look, and gave me a leering smile. He
walked over to my table, carrying a book.

Sitting beside me, he said, “Do you want to
see what we’re laughing about?”

I shrugged, feigning indifference.

“It’s really funny,” he said.

“Ok, sure.”

He put the book in front of me. I could see
the rest of his gang watching in anticipation. The book was Mark
Twain’s Adventures of Tom Sawyer.

“I already read that,” I said.

He put his finger on the book. “This is a
special version. It has something that isn’t in the one you
read.”

“What?”

“It’s on page seventy-five. Take a look.”

I reached out and began fanning through the
pages. Something was stuck between them, causing my fingers to stop
at the gap. It was page seventy-five. I opened the book flat, and
there was a photograph lying face down.

I looked at him curiously. “This?” I asked
pointing to the picture.

“Yes, turn it over.”

My fingers flipped it over, and my eyes
widened in shock. It was a black and white picture of a man sitting
in a chair. He was naked and very hairy, and was sitting there with
a grin stuck on his face. But my eyes ignored all of that as they
focused on his penis.

I had changed the diapers of my nephews, so I
had seen one before. But what was in the picture looked nothing
like the innocent looking rolls of pink flesh my nephews had. This
one was hard and sticking straight up, impossibly long with a
swollen head on the end. Large hairy testicles lay below it, and
the man’s hand was wrapped around the shaft, which was so thick his
fingers didn’t go all the way around.

I snapped the book shut and looked around
with wild eyes, hoping a teacher hadn’t seen me. The guy’s table
erupted into roaring laughter as I stared at them in shock, my
brain refusing to function. Joey reached over to retrieve the book,
and leaned into me as he did so. His mouth was close to my ear, and
I heard him whisper, “If you ever want to see the real thing, come
see me.” He stood and walked back to his table to the cheers of his
friends.

Finally finding the ability to move, I stood
and fled, leaving the rest of my uneaten lunch behind.

I hadn’t seen anything like it, before or
since, until now. Shane had one just like it, only this one was in
color.

Maybe I had imagined it. I had transferred
that long ago memory to the screen in front of me. Yeah, that was
probably it.

I opened my eyes and the shock returned. Not
only had I seen what I thought I had seen, by now my Mom’s hand was
wrapped around it, moving up and down in a slow pumping motion.

I wanted to close my eyes and shut myself off
from this, but I couldn’t. I was like a deer in the headlights, and
the truck was bearing down on me.

I realized why I couldn’t look away. This
penis may have been like the one in the photo, but it had my
mother’s hand around it. And if her hand was around it, that meant
it was safe.