Just Like My Mom

For years, I would hear my mother and father fuck. It did not matter where I was in the house - laying in bed or being in the living room, the noises could be heard.

When my parents got divorced, my mother ‘dated’ a good amount of men. She obviously fucked them (probably all of them). One night she sounded different. The noises, the words, everything. When her date left, I looked outside and it was an African American guy that was (maybe) 23 years old. He wasn’t much older than me. He drove away and my mom came out of her room. She was wearing a sheer robe that concealed nothing. She made herself a hot tea and asked how my night was going. I asked her the same. She laughed and said it was a good night. We went to be a little while later. She kept dating (all kinds of men) but this one guy became a regular for her.

One night I ‘bumped into him’ as he left. He smiled, said hello and told me my mom is fun. He also said he was sorry if it got noisy. He was brash and conceited, but he walked the walk with my mom. As he left, he said here is my number is you ever wanted some fun. After about a week I called him. He ended up fucking me in the back of my car. He was my regular for about three years. I am not sure if my mom knew, but I did not care.

Fast forward all of these years. I have been in love with three men and I honestly should have married all of them. I never did as my animalistic desire to be fucked by African American men is always present. I never love them, but I love what they do to me. My mother never remarried. We started to talk about this when I turned 30. She never knew, but she had a feeling all of these years.