Proxy Tales #01

"Oh Carrie, relax. If you're not fucking like rabbits within fifteen, no, ten minutes of watching; if the sex isn't more amazing than you could have imagined, then talk to him about it -- figure something out."

"But, the things they do," said Carrie.

"...are a little extreme, it doesn't mean you have to do them. Just watch, open your mind, and enjoy."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this from my own mother."

"Sweetie, I've got a revelation for you. You're married now. You're a grownup. That ring on your finger gives you license to do whatever the hell you want, or feel like, or wonder about, with that cute boy of yours. Go have some fun."

JANUARY 1, 2011

Every time Margaret saw Carrie and Ricky, they had that exhausted look about them - the kind of look one only gets after several nights of little sleep. It wasn't unhappy exhaustion, though. There was a perpetual smile on both of their faces. Their bodies were constantly seeking each other out -- touching legs under the table, holding hands, kissing whenever they could.

It was New Year's Eve when she saw them together. They'd come for the family gathering and decided to stay over, rather than risk driving. Margaret had gone to bed with Thom at about 1:00 and given him much more than a New Year's kiss. He had frequently commented on her transformation over the past couple of years -- all in a complimentary way. She certainly rocked him into the new year on this evening.

She'd been thirsty and had finished Thom off by sucking him dry.

"Much better than champagne," she told him as he drifted off into unconsciousness.

She wasn't able to get to sleep and draped herself in a loose robe before leaving the bedroom.

In the den, she heard the muffled cries coming from the back deck. Moving to the window, she smiled at the two young bodies intertwined in the hot tub, moving with sinuous grace and beauty. She remained in the darkness, watching her stunning daughter move with the instinctive grace of a true lover, writhing her hips on Ricky's very familiar cock.

When they climbed out to lie on the deck, Margaret moved a bit closer to the window so she could watch them. Ricky was so beautiful, so ruggedly beautiful as he impaled Carrie with well-tutored expertise. He looked up just then, and Margaret realized she was caught. All she could do was smile, and blow him a kiss. Their eyes remained locked until Carrie pulled Ricky's face down for a voracious embrace.

Margaret watched them with admiration and pride.

She felt empty, in a way. She had no longing, no feelings for Ricky - no feelings other than the love a mother-in-law feels for her wife's husband.

She contemplated this emptiness and realized what it was. She lacked a purpose. She had felt empty when Carrie moved out, the role of mother was no longer a daily duty. With Ricky, she had filled that hole, she had spent more than a year of her life fulfilling what she considered to be almost a sacred duty -- seeing the sweet young man through a most difficult time and enriching her own life in the process. Now, it was back to empty habits, the normal day-to-day routine.

She moved the mouse on the desk, waking up the computer.

There was the search bar. She held her breath; made up her mind; and started typing.

Young wife in coma, Midwest.

Click.