New Year's Resolution Ch. 01

This story is a combination of fictional and non-fictional events. The non-fictional elements were added mostly just to help with the formatting and flow of the events. It's obviously difficult to remember what was said and how it was said and therefore most dialogue, although close to being accurate, has been written in a fashion that makes for a more engaging and comprehensible story.

In the end - it's just that, a story. What you take as real and not real is up to you as the reader. My job is to entertain you; so please enjoy.

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Prologue

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I'd been infatuated with my mother since the start of puberty. Just like many other young boys about my age, I took a strong interest in my mom as both a figure to look up to and as a sexual idol.

I suppose the actual point in my life that my strong sense of infatuation evolved into a full on state of head over heels love was on the Christmas Eve of my eighteenth year of age. It was the first year in many that in the southeastern, Virginian city of Norfolk, it actually snowed on those cold December holidays.

***

So what exactly starts an infatuation like mine? Well when I was a very young lad, there was a certain event that was possibly the pull of the trigger that set off my mother-focused mindset. Although I was young and innocent in mindset, the shock of the scene created somewhat of a mental photograph stayed with me and acted as the base of my fantasies for the lonely nights I had while I lived at home with my mother.

I remember being asked by my father to check on Mom or ask her a question - the details for what led up to the situation are vague at best. When I entered through the closed bedroom door of our old house, I could smell something in the air. Imagine when you take a bath and the soapy residue that stays in the tub radiates that clean scent about the air. Well it was like that but more faint, like it had been there for a while and was beginning to fade.

As I walked toward the bathroom at the far end of their room, slight splashing noises and the gurgling of the drain came from the tub. Ever clueless, I marched steadfastly to the room only to see my mother in her full, naked form.

She never noticed my intrusion so I just stood there in shock, wide-eyed and confused. In my young, inexperienced years, I'd never seen a woman in the nude and to see my mother like that was a bit shocking, to say the least.

Now keep in mind, I'm relaying this back to you as best I can from memory, but I think a very clear picture is still painted within my thoughts. Her skin, seemingly without any visible blemishes and glimmering from the water, was a smooth, milky white. Her full figure was just that, full but not fat in any way. She stood tall at 5'9" and had a slight bulge in her midriff that swooped down to her widely-curved, womanly hips - the only evidence of the birthing of me and my brother, George. Her fairly large, globe-like breasts were capped with dark pink nipples, roughly the size of small raspberries that were surrounded by slightly lighter shaded and small areolae - she was, as I look back on it now, the perfect embodiment of the female form.

***

So what does this have to do with my feelings of love for her? Well not all that much it would seem; until you begin to think about it. Literally. The image of a beautiful, gorgeous woman, the focus of all your sexual fantasies being permanently burned into your mind like a stain of enormously erotic proportions spilled directly onto your brain can cause some less than pure thoughts to arise in the most innocent of situations. That is what led to the single, short moment that triggered a chain of events that I can only describe as life-changing.

It was a cold Christmas Eve, the first I'd seen with snow as I mentioned beforehand. My brother was away at college at the time and my father was at work while Mom and I got dinner ready. The scents that emanated from the various parts of our evening's dinner was creating quite an appetizing aroma.

Mom has been teaching me how to help around in the kitchen in the past week or so and she decided that she could use all help she could get, so she assigned me to the simple job of chopping onions for the gravy of our Christmas roast. Well there was one problem with that - she hadn't exactly taught me how to properly chop onions, or any vegetables really.

So I just stood there, staring dumbly at these two onions on the chopping block without a single clue of where to start. Mom noticed my predicament and came up behind me, startling me by placing her hand on my shoulder before speaking, "Hey, Sweetie. Having some issues over here?" She was clearly amused by my situation.

I dropped my hands to the counter and sighed in mock defeat before looking over my shoulder, "Yeah," I paused for just a moment before continuing, trying to look truly defeated, "I just don't exactly know where to start."

"Alright, let me show you," she spoke as she grasped my hands. "Now we'll just cut it in half like this..." she trailed off as she spoke, guiding my hands through each cut.

"Now," I felt her shift closer to me as she spoke. Her breasts pressed against my back and I felt her pelvis flush against my ass. The points where her hands held onto mine began to tingle and flush. Particularly impure thoughts began to manifest in my now racing mind. The memories of her body began to paint an image of her standing behind me, naked and caressing my hands gently as she nuzzled into me.

"Done! Think you can do the other onion, now?" Her voice shocked me back into reality and I suddenly realized that I had a raging erection poking straight into the island. Wonderful.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sure!" I sheepishly stumbled with my words, trying to seem confident, but ultimately failing. I looked over my shoulder again and something that shouldn't have, snapped deep within brain. Her hands atop mine, her soothing and slightly southerly twanged voice guiding me through her impromptu kitchen lesson and now, the sight of her beautiful, heat-flushed face was sending signals to my brain that I had never previously felt. It seemed as if a deep, sealed pocket of emotion had burst within my soul and simultaneously, something suddenly shattered inside of me. I knew then that no other woman would do in my life.

This realization only made me feel as if I had been crushed under a thousand tons of coal then set ablaze. The pain I immediately felt at the knowing that I could never have what I so desired was tearing me apart from the inside and tears began to well up in my eyes.

My mother, Darla, became the light of my life and the looming shadow over my soul all at once. My alpha and omega. She became absolutely everything to me in that one moment. In a split second she turned from my mother, the woman who raised me alongside my father for the eighteen years to this moment, to being the absoluteness in my life. She was the bearer of my fetal self, the bearer of all of future emotions and I made it my life's goal to make her the bearer of my love life.

"Oh, Honey! What's wrong?" her soft smile turned into worry and the twinkle in her eyes faded.

"It's nothing. Nothing at all," I spoke quickly, trying to think of an excuse to leave and clear my head, "I think it's just the onions, I'll go wipe my eyes," I rushed past her as I spoke, making my way to the bathroom.

After maybe a minute of sobbing on the bathroom floor like an idiot, I heard distant footsteps gaining in volume and in closeness, then the familiar sound of her knocking on the door, "What's wrong, Mike?"

"Nothing, Mom. I'm fine, I promise," I cleared my throat before continuing, "Like I said, it's just the onions."

"Sweetie, I showed you how to cut them without getting all teary eyed. Why don't you come on out and we'll talk. Would that be okay?"

***

As much as I wanted to avoid talking with her about my feelings, she wouldn't accept no for an answer. And so I sat at the dining room table and awaited my interrogation. We sat there at the table, starting at each other. Mom looking at me with soft eyes, a look of worried love while she wondered of what to ask. I just sat there dreading the inevitable words to come out of her mouth as the silence grew further pregnant.

Then, she broke the silence that I previously hated and now desperately wanted back, "Alright, Darlin'. I'll just ask - what's bothering you? And don't you lie to me, I'll know."

I looked nervously around the room. I had no intentions of revealing what really ailed me. My immature-self thought it would be a wise decision to just avoid talking entirely, like I could just not answer unless directly stating yes or no. This obviously the wrong thing to do, as Mom picked up on it instantly, "Okay, fine. Is it a girl problem?"

"Shit," I thought to myself. I simply nodded back, too hesitant to speak in fear of revealing any further.

"Well, doesn't that just explain a whole lot, already?" she smiled as she spoke, clearly thinking the solution to my problem would be a simple one.

"Sooo? Are you going to tell me who the lucky lady is?"

Once again I only gestured head, shaking it in disagreement.

"Well then, it's my turn to guess again, I suppose," she brought her hand to her chin and rubbed it gently as she ran various girls through her head.

"Ah hah! It's Ashley from down the street isn't it? I've seen how you act around her. Aww, Sweetie. Did she break your heart, my little man?" she spoke confidently, clearly thinking she nailed down my problem without any difficulty.

I shook my head once more and she once again looked confused. She looked around the room absently for what seemed like hours and my anxiety only grew. Then, it was as if she were reading my thoughts - she looked slowly back toward me and her dark-brown eyes bore into mine as a knowing smirk began to split her face, "Well; it wouldn't be lil' ol' me would it!?"

A familiar knot began to form within my stomach and a warmth quickly enveloped my face. Soon, tears followed. I couldn't control my feelings any further and they all came spilling out, confessing my answer in one, miserably muted and pathetic outburst of emotion.

"Ohh ohh, Darlin'. It's okay! Plenty of young boys have that... issue. Don't worry your little heart out. It's all good!" she got up from her chair, teaching it with her and then sat it down next to me. I felt a quick, warm peck on my cheek and the tight embrace of her arms around mine.

Despite wanting to yell out my feelings for her, I knew it'd be cheesy and would only worsen the situation knowing that she wouldn't feel the same way. So I sat there, silent and with a still-broken heart.

***

Things kind of just deflated after that. We had a normal dinner without anything too out of the ordinary and without any interruptions. However, despite the uneventful dinner, I couldn't help but notice a certain pregnancy growing within the ambiance. Every once and a while, Mom would stutter in her words when she'd look over at me. Despite being shut down earlier and patronized for my young and foolish love, I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my barely-held-together heart whenever she did that.

Whether it was a nervousness, an eagerness, or just foolishness on my part for having any hope of her returned love - I didn't know. I would, however, get some idea later that night through the next morning, a sort of indication of her standing.

***

After dinner, we watched Christmas Vacation just like we did every other Christmas Eve. It had become sort of tradition in our household. I didn't mind - I always had a certain respect for movies before my time and enjoyed trying to spot the little details that directors would leave for their audience.

And just like every other Christmas Eve, we went to bed early - eager to wake up in the morning. I, however, was dreading the coming night. I didn't want to be left alone with my thoughts in an empty bed. I began concocting plans to maybe lengthen the night so I could at least go to my bed tired. I didn't get far in my scheming before it shifted focus. Maybe if I could somehow convince Mom of my love, then I could go to bed without worry or fear?

I was - and to be fair, still am, a very ignorant and stubborn soul. I didn't think of any of the possible consequences or even how it could truly ruin our relationship, my plan. It was dumb. No, beyond dumb. And despite being so seemingly without heavy impact; a short moment that I thought could maybe prove my devotion, would leave a lasting scar in my memories that I can't scrub away. Nor would I like to, though.

As my parents got ready for bed, I waited for a possible opportunity. I sat in the bathroom with the sink running, listening intently through the door for my mother's footsteps in the hallways. Every night, she'd get ready for bed then go back into the kitchen to get a sleeping pill. It was her routine and I used it to my advantage.

There it was, the familiar creaking of the floorboards as she passed by the door. I turned off the sink and turned out the light before stepping out into the dark hallway. My heart was racing as every second passed. Dad was in bed down the hall, only maybe fifteen feet from me. Mom would have to pass by me as she came back. That was when I'd enact my preposterous plot.

I saw her shadow form around the corner of the passage and I stood there, nervous beyond any possible description and extremely close to passing out right then and there. There she was in her light-blue nightgown, seemingly gliding toward me as her gown flowed about in the draft. Her hair was down and brushed into shape, bouncing elegantly with every step.

Before I could escape my own intentions, she stood in front of me, "Hey, my Little Man! Come to say goodnight to Mom?" she spoke quietly, as if to not awake my father - who, to be fair, was probably snoozing already. She wore a smile that only served as the last piece of motivation that I felt I needed.

I crooked my head forward slightly as I brought my hands to her neck and back to reel her in gently. I think the only reason she didn't immediately step back to escape my grasp was the pure and spontaneous nature of the act which probably only confused her. I broke the distance between us and made full contact with our lips. I shuddered at the feeling of her soft, red lips against mine. And just as I felt all of my fears lift away and my feelings for her expand beyond reason, the moment was shattered into a thousand little pieces with a sharp pain on my cheek and a loud SLAP.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Michael!?" I opened my eyes with her words. Her breath was short and her eyebrows were furrowed in a look that looked like a cross between furiosity and sadness. The little strips of tape that held my heart together came apart instantaneously as I took in the sight, her words and the pain in my face. I fucked up. There was no other way to look at it.

"I don't know what the fuck you thought that would accomplish, but I hope it was worth it!" she stormed past me and turned into their bedroom. Just before closing the door, she spoke the words I dreaded most in that moment, "We're going to have to have a talk in the morning."

And so that was basically the end of that night. Heartbroken and fearing for my mother and I's relationship, I went to bed to do what I wanted to avoid most - lie alone with my worried thoughts.

***

The next morning I awoke with a start to the sound of Mom calling out from the kitchen, "Get your lazy butt in here! It's Christmas in case you forgot!"

I laid there nervously analyzing her words. She didn't seem angry, but her reaction to last night's ill-conceived plan surely would have come across this morning in a rage-filled scolding that would definitely include my father. Yet, like I said before, there was no anger in her voice. That only made me more anxious, thinking it was just the calm before the storm.

I rose from my bed and stumbled reluctantly toward the kitchen, expecting a complete and total disaster to occur. Then, there I was in the kitchen and seemingly without anything out of the ordinary. Mom was cooking breakfast - bacon, eggs and sausage while Dad sat at the breakfast nook in the back, reading his papers.

Mom looked up from the stove and in my direction, stopping me in my tracks, "Morning, Sleepy Head! Did you forget what day it was?"

Again, I was stunned at the complete lack of anger in her voice. Did I dream what happened last night? I stood there trying to go through my memories, but I knew it couldn't have been a dream. So why was she acting as if nothing were wrong?

"Mornin'. Merry Christmas, guys!" I tried to sound cheery as I spoke, but I don't know how effective that was. I heard Dad yell back and Mom just smiled before returning to cooking breakfast.

***

I never really knew for sure why she didn't confront me about the previous night's events, but I appreciated it. I suppose, for some reason, she thought that if I went to bed with a sting in my cheeks and a dull ache in my body that I would know I was in the wrong. Unfortunately, her plan only backfired in the end - I fell further into the deep, exitless pit that is love.

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Chapter 1

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Three years and two days later it was the Saturday before New Year's Eve, 2014. That day was the first day of a New Year's vacation to our family's beach house in Corolla, North Carolina and the first day to a week that would prove itself as the start to a life changing journey.

In those three years, a lot happened. But that's to be expected, of course. I graduated high school, began college, got my bachelor's and started on the next semester toward my master's.

Mom got a job at the TaeKwonDo academy we went to as a desk girl, keeping record of contracts, selling gear, etc. She later quit said job and we stopped going there after about three years of consecutive lessons. I still miss the academy and everyone there, but life moves quickly and often takes what we love with it.

My mother's dad died the same year that she quit her job (No correlation.). It was devastating to her - he was a drunk and abusive toward her mom, but he had changed over the past 20 years without her ever really knowing. It hit her pretty hard since she never got to know the new him.

Last year, I met Allison. We hit it off pretty well, actually. She was the first girl that I ever really connected with. And trust me, as much as I would like to say that I lost my virginity with her, I didn't. She was supposed to come with us on this trip and backed out last minute, breaking up with me. Needless to say, I was pretty devastated. I was 21, still a virgin and was going to lose it at the beach house to the one girl I felt was right for me then. She never told me what really bothered her, she just panicked one morning and called me, telling me that she couldn't come and that we shouldn't see each other anymore.

The vacation would have consisted of me, my brother, his boyfriend, my mother and father, my nana and Allison. Even without Alli, it was still a full house to say the least.

Now I won't bore you with the details of our actual trip there as it was a typical two hour ride from home to the beach, but I will give you the general gist of it. We took three cars there. Two just held luggage and passengers and one was dedicated to wine and liquor. Yeah, we had a lot of booze. Gotta say, I'm pretty thankful for that now. I moped the whole way, never really talking to anyone else in the car.

As we made the turn into the driveway, all you could hear was the crackling of gravel grinding against sand and seemingly distant waves crashing into the beach just on the other side of the dunes. Before us was the massive, three-story beach house that would our retreat for the cold, December week.