A mother s present for her son s birthday III
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Mother's Birthday Present, Part III free porn video
Mother's Birthday Present, Part III
By Bobbi Gold
Bobby and I got a last minute reservation at a nice restaurant in town.
I left my lunch outfit on, but after I did my little lipstick
presentation for Bobby, I freshened up the rest of my makeup. I put a
few strokes of mascara on, added a little blush, and added a darker,
plummy eye shadow for more of a nighttime look.
Dinner was, well, it was a little weird. Because, Bobby and I always
had this completely "normal" relationship. As a mother and son, I would
say we were not too close but not too distant. It was like Goldilocks -
just right. Because I was a single mother, I tried to be there for him,
but also to maintain certain boundaries. I did not try to be his best
friend, or to make him my best friend. Sure, there were times when I
would have loved to have gossiped with him about the latest scandal in
town, about who was sleeping with whom, but I didn't.
Even though there were times I was lonely in my social life, I tried not
to turn to him for that kind of comfort. Yes, of course there were
times when I would have liked to snuggle with him in bed, to feel a warm
body next to mine, but I resisted.
Even though I always missed having a daughter, having someone to share
the joys of femininity with, I did not try to make him my daughter. Of
course there were times when I wanted to take him to the salon with me,
or drag him out to a sale at Bloomie's, or to go buy some shoes, or
gossip about the latest makeup, but I resisted those urges. There were
plenty of times when it was just me and him sitting at home, at the
kitchen table, and I was paging through my latest issue of Vogue, and I
would spot a great makeup ad, maybe something showing, let's say, a new
retro, liquid eyeliner, and I would have to stop myself from turning to
him and asking what he thought. But I did stop myself.
So, "normal," yes, that is the word I would use to describe. Normal,
and "appropriate." And, sitting there at dinner, it still felt that way.
We talked about school, current events, etc.
But.
But all of a sudden there was this 800 pound gorilla in the room. Was
it possible that in my concern about having the correct boundaries with
my son, I was TOO distant? That there were things he needed and wanted
from me that I was not giving? Did my son have a feminine side that was
yearning to come out, but that he had repressed because somehow I had
missed the signals, and did not let him know that it was ok?
WAS it ok? I didn't even know, because I had never thought about it.
But, all of a sudden, I was thinking about all of these things. Yes, we
were having our usual conversation, but while we were doing that I was
self-conscious about all of these things. We are talking about a report
he needs to do for school, and I am thinking about whether he has
noticed that I refreshed my makeup. We are talking about his plans for
the summer, and I am thinking about the Burt's Bees in my purse. We are
talking about what we will order for dinner, and I am thinking about
the question I asked him that he seemed to get all upset about (TOO
upset?) - whether he really would have liked to have bought the lipstick
for himself.
As I sat there maintaining our "normal" conversation, my mind raced.
Let's say the girls at lunch were correct in their suspicions about
Bobby's gift. That there was more to it than met the eye. What did
that mean? Did it mean that he just had a little bit of a feminine side
that he wanted to express? That maybe he might want me to share some
things with him that were a little girlish, and make him feel ok about
it? Or was there more to it? Was he one of those boys who felt like he
was a girl born into a boy's body? Was he transgendered? I had done no
reading on the subject and was not familiar with all the nuances. For
all I knew there was a whole spectrum between the two things I just
described. For example, I had remembered reading about a male model,
Andrej Pejic. He was clearly physically a boy, and he was not taking
hormones (he had a completely flat chest) let alone had a sex change.
And yet, he was modeling a woman's bra in an ad for some Swedish bra
company! And he was gorgeous, looking completely feminine.
Andrej especially reminded me of Bobby because even though they had both
been through puberty, they both still had delicate features and
hairless, nearly flawless complexions. Was Bobby lacking in male
hormones? Was it possible that that deficiency would make him feel more
feminine? Now that I thought back on those pictures of Andrej,
exquisitely made up and wearing women's clothes, but still clearly male,
I wondered whether that was something Bobby would relate to? I had no
idea. But, if I had been making a mistake for all these years, by being
too formal with him, by being too concerned about what was appropriate,
I was not about to let that mistake continue for one more minute.
I understood that I could not just dramatically change my attitude
towards him on a dime and expect him to just respond. If he did have
feminine feelings, I was sure he was conditioned to be careful about
showing them, even if given the opportunity to do so. I would have to
be a little persistent.
As we finished our main course, I took out my lipstick. In a light
tone, I said, "So here's a little etiquette lesson for you. It is ok
for a lady to reapply her lipstick at the dinner table. But it is NOT
ok for her to do the works, like I did before we left. No lip liner,
lip gloss, pouty middle lipstick. It should not look like a makeup
artist has visited the dinner table."
I could see that Bobby was listening to my little lecture with rapt
attention. But as I had suspected, he could not bring himself to admit
it. He said, "And you are telling me this because?...."
I said, "Well, if you are out on a date with a young lady, I want you to
know what is good manners for her."
Bobby breathed a little sigh of relief. I could tell what was going
through his head. Was I telling him about lipstick etiquette because it
was something he should know for himself? Then he must have realized
that was ridiculous, I would never suggest such a thing. As he
recovered he said, "Mom, girls my age don't even use lip liner."
There was a slightly awkward pause. Because even that small
acknowledgment by him was probably more than he wanted to disclose. How
would he know that girls his age did not use lip liner? Should I let it
go, or use it as an opening?
I giggled a little and said, "Oh, excuse me. I forgot that since you
bought me my wonderful birthday present you have become quite the expert
on lipstick! Now, since we are on the subject of lips, YOURS look a
little chapped. Are they?"
Bobby looked a little self-conscious and then said, yes, as a matter of
fact they were. I opened up my purse and said, "Hmm, let me see if I
have anything in here that will help. Oh, here, here is a Burt's Bees.
Do you know Burt's Bees? It's like a Chapstick, but it's more natural.
You know, organic. Try it. It will make your lips feel better right
away."
My heart was beating a mile a minute. It was a little dim in the
restaurant. Would he notice that the Burt's Bees had color? It was
sheer, but there was definitely color. In this case, Plum.
I casually handed the lip balm to him. He took it from me and looked at
it carefully. From the outside, it did look a little like a Chapstick,
although it said Lip Shimmers on the case. So far, so good. Then he
opened the case. It was clearly a dark color, almost like a lipstick,
except sheer. He looked at me in horror. He said, "Mom, this has
color! I can't wear this!"
And I very calmly said, "Oh, shush. You are a lipstick expert now. You
know that when you bought the lip gloss, it looked like a rich pink
color inside the tube. But when I put it on, it barely has any color at
all. This is the same way. It is sheer, with just a tiny hint of
color. No one would ever know, it would just make your lips look like
they have a tiny bit of natural color. And especially in this dark
restaurant, no one would notice anything. Now don't be a baby. Go
ahead and try it. It will make your lips feel nice and soft."
There was that moment, that pause, where we both just sat there, with
him trying to figure out what to do, when I swear I thought I could hear
both of our hearts beating. I quietly said, "Just put it on like you
would a Chapstick."
He did it.
I said, "Now, press your top lip and bottom lip together, and rub them
back and forth a little. Just to make sure it's applied evenly."
He did that too. I took out my compact and handed it to him. I said,
"See, take a look. You can barely notice."
Of course, that was not entirely true. There was definitely sheer color
on his lips. Outside in the sunshine it would have been very obvious.
But in the dimly lit restaurant, it was pretty subtle. He studied
himself in the mirror for a minute, not saying anything. Finally, I
quietly said, "It looks nice."
He still said nothing. He took a sip of water. I don't think he
noticed, but he left a very clear, plum colored lip mark on his glass.
The waitress came by to refill out water glasses. I don't think she
would have noticed his lips, but when she went to refill the water
glasses, she definitely noticed his glass. She stopped for a moment and
stared at him. I smiled at her and thanked her for filling the glasses.
When she walked away, he said in a stage whisper, "Mom, she noticed!" I
said, "No, no, she just noticed you mark on the glass. Otherwise she
never would have seen anything!"
That seemed to mollify him a little but he was definitely self-
conscious. I said, "Don't your lips feel better already? The Burt's
Bees has great emollients in it." I had no idea whether that was true,
but I wanted to make him feel less self-conscious. He said, "Well, they
do feel pretty good."
I tried to move the conversation along, away from his lips. But now the
800 pound gorilla was larger than ever. I mean, OMG, I just got my 17
year old son to put on what was basically a sheer lipstick! In public,
no less! I didn't really have time to think about how I felt about it,
but for some reason, my heart was racing and I felt, well, excited. If
I had felt like we had crossed a line when Bobby had bought me the
lipstick, now it felt even more so.
As we left the restaurant, I realized that my girfriends were right,
maybe even more so than they knew. I mean, yes, the Burt's Bees was my
idea, and yes, I had to convince him to put it on, but when I thought
about it, I realized that no teenaged boy would agree to but on Lip
Shimmers, no matter how much his mother convinced him it was ok. Unless
he wanted to. Unless he really, really wanted to.
When we got home, I decided that I wanted to see how far he would let me
take things. We got ready for bed, me in my nightgown and Bobby in his
PJ's. I said to him, "Honey, I have had the most wonderful birthday.
There is just one more thing I would like, and then the day will be
perfect."
My sweet son said, "Sure Mom, anything. Just name it."
Now it was my turn to get shy. I will admit that I did not think
through what I was about to do. I was basically on auto pilot, letting
my instincts guide me. Whether I was about to make a mistake or not, I
was not sure. But my son was now seventeen, he was not a young boy. I
took comfort in knowing that at this point, he basically was who he was.
My influence would be limited.
Like I had done earlier in the evening when I was showing him how I put
on the lipstick, I took him by the hand and brought him to the vanity in
my bedroom.
But instead of me sitting down at my vanity, I pushed him down into the
seat.
He said, "Mom, what are you doing?"
I said, "It's my birthday and I want to have a little fun. Because I
don't have a daughter, I never got to do all the fun things that moms do
with their daughters. So, tonight, as one of my birthday presents, you
are going to let me put some makeup on you."
Bobby looked at me in alarm and said, "Mom, what's causing all this? Is
it just because I bought you a lipstick for your birthday? I told you
already, I didn't mean anything by it."
I said, "I know you didn't and no, that's not it. But when I saw how
cute you looked with the Burt's Bees, and well, how much you looked like
me when I was your age, I couldn't resist thinking about how much fun it
would be to make you up to look like me." And then I said
flirtatiously, "You do think your mommie is pretty, don't you? Wouldn't
it be fun to see of you could look like her, just for a little while?
Just for this once?"
He was stunned. And speechless. I took his silence as tacit consent,
and got to work. Before I started, I took a towel and put it over the
lighted mirror on my vanity. I was not going to just put a little
mascara and blush on him. No, I wanted to give him a full makeup job.
I wanted to make him look like I did when I was wearing my glam, going-
out, night-time makeup. I wanted him to be overwhelmed by what he saw
when I was done and I let him look in the mirror.
I took my time and did the whole thing. Foundation, powder, blush,
mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow, and yes, all four of my lipsticks. I
couldn't help explaining what I was doing as I went along, like how the
powder sets the foundation, and how girls frequently put blush on in the
wrong spot. I said to him, "I am putting way more makeup in you than is
appropriate for a girl your age, but I want you to get the full effect.
I want to show you what is possible."
Of course I realized I said "a girl your age," as if HE were a girl.
The whole time, he never protested, or said a word. He just sat there
quietly and let me do my thing. I will admit, I was having a great
time. I might have started out doing this for him, to give him the
chance to let me know how he felt, but I was having so much fun making
him up! And the more I did it, the more he looked like me! Or at least,
a young version of me. He really looked fabulous, totally feminine.
Pretty. With his boy's hair, he looked particularly striking. I took
out a pretty barrette and put it in his hair. It instantly transformed
his boy's hair into a boyish, girl's hair style. Cute. I couldn't help
thinking of Andrej Pejic. Bobby could give him a run for his money!
Finally I was done. I looked at him and said, "Oh, Honey, you are such
a good son, to let Mommie have her fun. And you look amazing. Are you
ready to see?" He maintained his silence. I lifted the towel off of
the mirror and turned it on. I said, "Announcing Miss Bobbi Gold, the
prettiest girl in Southfield High."
He was wide-eyed and speechless. He just sat there, staring at his
reflection. I was afraid to break the mood, but I finally said, "You
like?" He did not move for a moment but finally, almost imperceptibly,
nodded his head.
I said, "Me too, Honey. Thank you for letting me do this. Now, for your
next lesson, a girl never goes to sleep with her makeup on. Let me show
you how we take it off, and then moisturize, before we go to bed."
I helped Bobbi remove his makeup, and then I did mine. I kissed my
precious boy goodnight, and I got into bed, closed my eyes, and with a
smile on my lips, wondered what tomorrow would bring.
Maris
- 21.08.2021
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