An Honest Mistake

Life was rough for a while there. My Mom and Dad were fighting all the time, screaming, yelling, and making life really uncomfortable for me, my sister and my brother. My Mom was born in the Philippines and met my Dad when he was serving over there for the US Army. They got married and came back to America and set up in Texas. I don’t know how things were at the start but my Mom always said the first 8 years were great. But then they had me, then my brother, then my baby sister. Money got tight and Mom had trouble getting good pay because she didn’t speak the greatest English. She is much, much better now, she is pretty much fluent, but at first, she didn’t have a lot of options to learn. My Dad was a bit domineering and she didn’t have much of a life outside of the house.

Then came the day Dad hit Mom. He slapped her, he didn’t punch her, but that was the start of a quick end. Mom moved out soon and tried to take us with her but Dad got custody because she was broke. My Mom Karen then met Scott. Scott was the polar opposite of my Dad. He worked in the oil field as an engineer. He was nice and treated us so much better than Dad ever did. But even so, Mom couldn’t get custody. My Dad spent most of his time insulting our Mom to us and whatnot. Then he got married and she was a total bitch.

All three of us looked forward for the 6 weeks in summer and two in winter we got to stay with my Mom and Scott. Then Scott got transferred up to Colorado when I was in 7th grade. We still got to visit twice a year, but having my Mom so far away was really stressful. Dad treated his new wife as shitty as he treated mom, and his possessive nature filtered down to me and my siblings. At least he never hit us, but we also weren’t allowed to have cell phones or internet access because my Dad, didn’t want us talking to Mom any more than absolutely necessary.

This went on for the next few years. The summer I was gonna get my driver’s license, my Dad kept stalling because he didn’t want me to have that degree of freedom. I called my Mom from a friend’s house and she promised she would take me to get mine when I visited her the next week. By that Friday, my brother, sister and I were on our flight up to Colorado. I was so happy to be away from my Dad. He was just an asshole and a creep and I hated him for driving my Mother away. I knew the day I could emancipate I would and come live with my Mom.

My Mom Karen is gorgeous, at least to me. She is about 5 foot 2, she has that classical Asian Filipino figure. Lean, lithe, great legs and bubble butt. She has smaller breasts, a low B cup, but on her little figure and tight tummy, they look plenty big. She had great dark peach skin which tans a great light brown. She has long black hair to her lower back, and amazing eyes and smile. I always felt like such a shell of my mother. I wished I was beautiful like her, but I had rounder eyes, plumper lips, and was all gangly and awkward. My Dad would never allow me to dress in the cute clothes I wanted, or not wear my geeky glasses and makeup was forbidden. But my Mom was so different, she wanted me to feel pretty.

After a week of time with her and Scott I came out of my shell again and began to relax. It was one evening that I was talking to my Mom about not feeling pretty like she was.

“What are you talking about Lindsay? You are just as pretty as me.”

“No I am not, I don’t look like you.”

“Of course you do, you got the best of me, come here.” She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to her room where she had a vanity mirror. She spun me sideways and stood right behind me.

“See Lindsay, look at your legs and your cute little butt. They look a lot like mine, heck they look better, you don’t have a bit of cellulite or any sagging of anything yet. You are so pretty sweetheart.”

I looked at the mirror and realized I had let my Dad fill my head with how not pretty I looked. I guess just to keep me from wanting to talk to boys? But I loved looking at my self in a sexual way, embracing my womanhood. It turned into a fun night as mom kept dressing me in her outfits and having me look at myself. Despite the fact I had slightly bigger breasts (only by a size or two from my Dad’s german heritage) I fit almost just right into all of her clothes. Then it was on to makeup and nails and hair styling.