love story

Authors note: Hey guys! I just wanted to post a quick thank you for all the lovely comments and feedback that I have received on my story so far (and on my other stories too) – I really appreciate it! This is the penultimate chapter to this series and the final chapter should be up by next week. Pretty please don’t panic or hate me after reading this third instalment; I can promise you now that there will be a happy ending for Matt and Tom. After all, I am a complete sucker for a happily ever after ;)

Thanks for reading!


Life was good.

Matt had started his new job on the Monday after he’d cleared out his flat. He had been nothing but eager to get going, even though he knew it would be a lot of hard work and that he’d have to spend the first few weeks learning the ropes and being filled in on exactly what was to be expected of him. Matt knew that he was the perfect guy for this job; he enjoyed a challenge and really thrived when working as part of a team. He was rushed off his feet during the first week but it felt good to finally be doing something he loved, and Matt could honestly say that he had never been happier.

Tom had taken Matt out for a meal to celebrate after his first day at work and had insisted on paying. They’d gone back to Tom’s place afterwards, where they’d proceeded to make out on the sofa for hours before Tom took Matt back home. Matt couldn’t wait until he had a place of his own since he could hardly bring Tom back to the house while he was staying with Chris and Tessa, although Tom had joked that Tessa probably wouldn’t mind catching them making out on her sofa.

Matt had his first house-viewing the weekend after he and Tom had made their relationship official, but he hadn’t liked the first house all that much. He hadn’t been able to pinpoint exactly what had put him off and he hadn’t wanted to sound silly, but he just couldn’t picture it as home.

Matt went to a second house viewing appointment the following weekend. He had brought Tessa to take a look since Tom had said he needed to catch up on some work. Matt still wasn’t sure if that had been a genuine reason for not coming along, or whether Tom had just found the idea of looking at houses with his new boyfriend kind of weird. Matt hadn’t pushed the issue.

Matt instantly fell in love with the second house and Tessa had agreed that it was perfect. It had a beautiful front garden, plus off-road parking and a garage. Inside, there were three good sized bedrooms, a large bathroom – with a huge shower that Matt was sure he could find more than one use for – and most of the rooms were spacious and modern. The place was immaculate too; Matt would have to do very little work other than move in his things and buy some new furniture and appliances. It was everything he had been looking for. It wasn’t exactly cheap, but with his new job and his savings, he’d be able to afford it.

Matt could definitely see himself being extremely happy in this house, and he was shocked to realise that he was considering what it would be like to live there with Tom. For it to be their home, rather than just his home. They’d only been officially dating for two weeks, but Matt already considered Tom to be an important part of his life. In fact, Matt felt more for Tom after two weeks than he had for Mitchell during the entirety of their relationship. Matt wasn’t sure whether to be scared or elated by this.

He called Ashley and told her that he wanted to put in an offer at the full asking price. She sounded more excited than he was. “I’m so pleased you like it. I knew you would!” He could hear her shuffling about paperwork and typing away at her computer. “This is so exciting! Can you pop by now? We’ll want to get this sorted as soon as possible.”

Matt’s offer was accepted and suddenly he was on his way to owning his first house. It was both exciting and terrifying, but Matt knew that he was making the right move. It took a few days to sort through everything, but when it was all done, Matt had arranged a move in date of just four weeks away.

After finalising the purchase of his new home, sorting out his funds, and signing lots of paperwork, Matt drove straight over to Tom’s house. He was eager to fill him in on the news and let him know that it really was official – Matt had his own place, and he would be staying for good.

Since Matt and Tom had made their relationship official, they had seen a lot of each other. In fact, they were finding it increasingly difficult to stay apart. They met for dinner after work most nights, usually at Tom’s, and would always end up cuddling on the sofa where they’d watch a film or just lay and chat. The two of them even went to the cinema one evening after work where they’d sat at the back, snuggling close and holding hands. Matt had felt like a teenager all over again and they’d both laughed about it, but it had been an amazing evening and Matt thought it was probably one of the best nights he’d had in years.

Although their relationship was really starting to grow, the sexual side had yet to progress past blowjobs – of which Matt had been more than eager to reciprocate once he’d gotten over his tiredness from that first Saturday night. Matt was just trying to find the right time to take things further, and at the moment they both seemed more than content to cuddle, grope and suck each other off.

Matt pulled up outside the house and practically ran up the drive before knocking on the door.

“It’s open!” He heard Tom shout.

Matt let himself in and was greeted with the smell of Tom’s cooking.

“Wow, something smells good, what’re you making?” Matt asked as he made his way through to the kitchen. Tom was standing at the oven, stirring a pan of sauce that he had simmering on the hob. He turned to greet Matt with a slow, hot kiss that got both of their hearts racing.

“Nothing too fancy, I just wanted to cook you dinner myself for once rather than order out,” he said. “Although, I kind of cheated and got some help from Tessa.”

“Well whatever it is, it smells delicious.”

“Not as delicious as you,” Tom said with a cheeky grin before ducking down to plant a wet kiss on Matt’s neck, gently sucking at the skin there.

Matt laughed. “Wow, Tom. That was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, but you loved it,” Tom joked before pulling his mouth away from Matt’s neck and pecking his cheek. He turned back around to check on the food, stirring the sauce and checking on whatever he had in the oven.

“Well I guess we can make this dinner into a bit of a celebration too, because I have some good news,” Matt said with a smile.

“I know you do. Ashley called me.”

“Damn her! I wanted to tell you myself,” Matt pouted. He almost stamped his foot too, but thankfully managed to stop himself just in time.

Tom turned back around and laughed before wrapping his arms around Matt’s waist to pull him in for a hug. “Okay, I’ll pretend I don’t know.”

“No point. The moment’s ruined,” Matt mumbled.

Tom caught Matt’s lips in another hot kiss. “I’m really glad you’re here to stay, babe.”


“No, I was kidding,” Tom said sarcastically. “Of course I am, you idiot!”

“Good.” Matt laughed. “Me too. It’s a really nice house; I wish you could have come to the viewing with me. I think Tessa is a little jealous, which I’m secretly quite pleased about since I’ve spent half my life being jealous of her.” Matt pulled away from Tom to steal a slice of fresh bread from the counter.

“Hey! That’s to go with the dinner,” Tom laughed, trying to snatch it out of Matt’s hand. Matt held the bread out of Tom’s reach and backed away. “Lesson one: don’t ever try taking food away from me. I’m like an animal; I’ll gnaw your hand off.”

They sat down to eat dinner, and Tom dimmed the lights and lit candles. Matt was touched by the effort that he had gone to.

“This is really lovely, Tom. Thank you,” Matt said with a warm smile.

“It’s nothing, really. I like doing nice things for you. I like making you smile.” Tom blushed at his own words but Matt’s heart starting doing somersaults. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to find a man like Tom, someone so genuinely beautiful inside and out. Matt felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

After dessert, Tom ushered Matt to follow him into the lounge. He sat down on the sofa, where Matt pulled himself into his lap and started kissing his neck.

“Matt…” Tom tilted his head to allow Matt better access.

“Mmm, you taste good…” Matt said between kisses.

“God, Matt…I –” Tom didn’t finish his sentence. Matt didn’t have time to wonder what he had been going to say because Tom’s body tensed a little, and when Matt pulled back to look into his eyes he noticed that they were glistening with moisture. Tom looked close to tears. Matt moved quickly out of Tom’s lap to sit at his side, holding his hand and stroking his cheek.

“Hey, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Tom laughed. “Nothing…absolutely nothing is wrong.” He wrapped an arm around Matt’s neck and pulled him closer for a light kiss.

“Did…” Tom paused, as if deciding what to say. “Did Tessa tell you much about me before we started dating?”

“Not much. She said that you were a decent guy and that you’d worked with Chris for quite a few years, but that was pretty much it. Why?”

“Did she tell you about my ex?”

Matt was silent. He wasn’t sure what to say. He thought he knew where this was going and he knew he needed to tread carefully. “No. Well, she said you’d had your heart broken by a guy and that it had been pretty bad, but that was it. I didn’t push for details.”

Tom laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound. Matt sat up straighter and looked into Tom’s eyes. “It wasn’t just my heart that he broke.”

Matt didn’t understand. Tom looked uncomfortable, and he shuffled a little in his seat.

“Tom, we don’t have to talk about this. You don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to.”

No, I want to.” He paused. “I trust you.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Matt said softly, giving Tom’s hand a comforting squeeze before linking their fingers together and resting both hands on Tom’s thigh.

Tom took a deep breath in an attempt to prepare himself for what he was about to say. “I was with Jason, my ex, for just under three years. I’d thought we were pretty happy, you know? I must have been so damn blind not to notice any of the signs, to take no notice of all the problems. Even now, I still can’t believe how much of an idiot I was.”

“You’re not –” Matt started, but Tom cut him off.

“Please, babe. Just let me get this out.”

Matt bit his lip and nodded. He understood that Tom needed to say all of this, to get it all off of his chest, but he didn’t want to hear Tom berating himself for whatever it was that had happened. And yet, hadn’t Matt done the exact same thing after his own break-up? Matt had blamed himself too, calling himself stupid and foolish for not seeing through Mitchell’s façade sooner. But none of that mattered anymore, and Matt sat patiently as he waited for Tom to continue.

“I came home from work early and found Jason in bed with another man. Well, two other men, actually. Everything seemed to happen so fast but I got pretty mad and then we fought. I threw his clothes at him and screamed for him to leave, and he lashed out. I thought it would stop at one hit, but he just kept on going. It got pretty messy and it was Chris who came and found me. I was in a state when he got there. I had a fractured collarbone, a couple of broken ribs, two black eyes and a couple of broken fingers. All my knuckles were split from where I tried to fight back.”

Matt winced. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could anyone have done something so cruel to Tom? Matt knew what it felt like to be hurt by someone he had trusted, but this was a whole new level of pain and Tom had been the one to experience it. Matt wanted to say something to try and comfort him but he could see that Tom had more to say, so he held his tongue until he was finished.

“Chris drove me to the hospital and then I stayed at their house for a couple of days. When they took me back to mine, the place was practically empty. Jason had taken almost everything. To add insult to injury, quite literally I guess, he also took every penny out of our savings account. And then he was just… gone.” Tom looked away for a moment and sighed, and Matt was sure he felt his own heart break at the look of pain written all over Tom’s face. He met Matt’s eyes before continuing.

“After that I did some thinking, and I realised that he’d been playing me from the start. I mean, I’d basically just been a meal ticket to him. Chris and Tessa helped me get back on my feet since I was in a pretty bad place, but things got better and I’ve moved on now. Please don’t think I’m not over it, because I really am. It just hurt, you know? I was so ashamed.” His voice cracked a little, and he cleared his throat.

“I’ve not heard from Jason since. I didn’t press charges because it was just my word against his and it seemed like too much fucking hassle. But Chris saw him at a friends wedding a few months later. He was arm in arm with one of the groomsmen and from what I hear Tessa gave him a piece of her mind, and rather publically too.” Tom took a deep breath. “And… well… that’s it, really.” His voice was shaky.

“Christ, Tom.” Matt didn’t know what to say. “I think if I ever met the fucker, I’d kill him.” Matt drew in a deep breath to calm himself. It wouldn’t do to get angry. Tom didn’t need anger, he needed love and reassurance. “How long ago did all this happen?”

“About a year and a half ago, right before I moved into this house,” Tom said. “I haven’t been with anyone since.”

Matt pulled himself across the sofa to straddle Tom’s lap, the same position he’d been in before Tom had revealed his big secret. Matt gently cupped Tom’s face in his hands and looked into his eyes. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, babe.” Matt leaned down and kissed Tom’s neck. “I wish I could erase the pain you felt.” He moved up to kiss behind Tom’s ear and then nuzzled his cheek.

Matt pulled back and gazed into Tom’s eyes. “You already have,” Tom admitted. “Being around you makes me feel better than I’ve felt in a long, long time.” Tom closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the sofa.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Matt whispered.

Tom kissed the back of Matt’s hand and nodded. They both pulled themselves up and headed for the stairs. Neither let go of the other’s hand, and the very thought of letting Tom go right now caused Matt’s heart to physically ache.

They headed into Tom’s bedroom before stopping at the foot of the bed, standing so close together that Matt could feel Tom’s breath on his face. He reached out and slowly started to undo the buttons of Tom’s shirt.

“You made me a promise a few weeks ago,” Matt said as he continued to undress his lover, “and now it’s my turn to make a few promises of my own. I will never do anything to hurt you, Tom. I promise that I will never betray your trust.”

“I know,” he whispered.

Matt pushed Tom’s shirt from his shoulders before moving his hands down to his belt. “I don’t want anyone else and I’m not looking for a meal ticket. I’m not planning on going anywhere, either. I’m right where I belong when I’m with you, Tomas Owins.”

Tom leaned down and pulled Matt in for a fierce kiss. By this point he was wearing only his boxers, with his jeans in a pile at his feet. He stepped out of them before pushed Matt onto the bed, practically ripping his shirt in an attempt to get it off quickly. He made fast work of removing the remainder of Matt’s clothes, with Matt arching his back so that Tom could pull his jeans and boxers down, and then throwing them onto the floor. Once Tom had removed his own boxers, he pulled himself on top of Matt and ground their erections together.

“Oh Christ…” Matt moaned. “I want you.”

“You’ve got me,” Tom said, kissing along Matt’s collarbone and then down his body. He stopped when he reached Matt’s erection. He kissed Matt’s hip before taking the cock into his mouth, but Matt wanted more tonight.

“I need you, Tom,” Matt panted. He needed Tom to slow down so that he could gather his thoughts and construct coherent sentences. “Wait… Tom – I need to feel you inside me.”

Tom moaned around Matt’s dick then let it fall from his mouth. “You sure?”

“Fuck yes,” Matt laughed shakily. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life.”

Tom moved up to crush his lips against Matt’s. Their tongues fought for dominance and the kiss left them both breathless. When Tom pulled back, Matt spread his legs and stared up into his partner’s eyes.

“Please, Tom.”

Tom broke eye contact to admire the view. “Oh God, your body is fucking perfect,” he said in a whisper. He moved to kneel between Matt’s legs, tracing his hands down the skin of his thighs. “So beautiful…”

Tom reached across to his nightstand and opened the top draw. He pulled out a small, unopened bottle of lube. He coated a couple of fingers before ducking his head to place a wet kiss on Matt’s chest. He reached for Matt’s pucker, resting his fingers there for a moment. Matt could see the question in Tom’s eyes.

“Don’t you dare ask me if I’m sure again. I want this. I want you.”

Tom chuckled. “You’re impatient, aren’t you?” Matt rolled his eyes and went to say something, but it was in that moment that Tom pushed a finger in and whatever Matt was going to say was lost. The only thing he could concentrate on was Tom, and that one finger he had buried inside him.

It had burned at first, but the pain quickly subsided and before long Tom was added a second digit, and then a third. Matt started to push himself back onto Tom’s fingers, writhing and moaning and begging for more. Tom was mesmerised but the noises that Matt made, his own dick hard and begging to be inside his lover.

When Tom’s fingers hit his prostate, Matt thought he was going to die.

“Oh fuck… oh shit…”

“You’re so vocal when you’re turned on,” Tom commented with a chuckle.

Matt couldn’t understand why Tom was laughing. He felt like he was burning up. “Do it, Tom. Come on. Please.”

Matt needed to feel Tom inside him. He was desperate. He wanted to make that connection with Tom, for them to become a part of each other in every sense. Tom removed his fingers from Matt’s hole, causing him to groan at the horrible empty feeling he was left with. He heard Tom fumbling with a condom wrapper and looked down just in time to see the condom being rolled down Tom’s hard-on. He watched Tom lube up and then rested his head back onto the mattress, pulled his legs back as far as they would go, and moaned in anticipation.

Tom leaned across Matt’s body, his knees between Matt’s legs and his dick positioned at his hole. They never broke eye contact as Tom pushed forward ever so slowly.

“Christ, Matt. You feel so amazing… so tight…” Tom moaned as the head of his cock popped in. He held completely still until Matt couldn’t take it anymore.

“Move, Tom.”

Tom rested his hands on the mattress by Matt’s head and began to push further into his body until his entire length was inside the tight passage. When Matt finally nodded to signal that he was okay, Tom pulled out slowly before thrusting back in. Tom kissed along Matt’s neck and down to a nipple before pulling back once again.

“Harder, faster….”

They kissed deeply and Tom pulling out almost completely before slamming back into Matt’s tight heat. He repeated the action over and over, setting a fast pace and hitting Matt’s prostate with each thrust. Matt couldn’t hold back his screams. He arched his back and pushed himself further onto Tom’s dick.

“Baby… fuck… so good…” Tom panted, his body glistening with sweat.

Okay, so the last story I wrote, I pretended to be a man; this one, I’m going to pretend to be American. Hope I don’t make too big a hash of it! Y’all come back now y’hear. Sorry ;-)


“Billy … don’t make me come up there. Get up now, sweetheart.”

Billy was my husband’s third child and my first, younger half brother to Phil and Mike, who are three and four years older than him respectively. They all have a younger sister Lori, who is twelve. His brothers both work in construction while Billy is in his senior year of high school. They all still live at home, with my husband Charles and I.

It’s not right as a mother, to say that you have favorites, but Billy has always been mine. Phil and Mike are their father’s sons, rugged, determined, strong. And I love them to bits. I do. But Billy, Billy has always been mine.

My husband would take our two oldest fishing and camping and hunting before Billy was old enough to go with them. So Phil and Mike had a few years head start on Billy when he went on his first trip. Three days, a long weekend. I’ll never forget. Billy couldn’t wait for the Ford Pickup to roll to a halt before he leapt out of the back seat and ran on into my waiting arms, hugging me tighter than ever before.

I looked up and saw the other three in the truck laughing and snickering together and I just knew they’d given him a hard time. He never wanted to go on any other trips with them, so he just stayed home with me and Lori instead. And that was just fine by me. Billy’s a sensitive boy. He’s thoughtful and kind and he’s going to make some lucky lady a wonderful husband some day I’m sure.

Lori and me, we get on sweet. She’s a beautiful girl. But it’s Billy I have the soft spot for. How many eighteen year old kids do you know who pick up on their Mom’s emotions when they’re feeling a bit blue and bring them home flowers? Not many, I’ll bet.

“Billy … you up kid?”

I knew he was going to make me go up there. Half the time, I swear, he pretends to be asleep because he wants me to wake him up personally.

“Come on kid,” I said, walking straight into his room. “Rise and shine.” I walked over to the drapes, pulling them apart, then headed for his bed and tugged at the comforter.

“Mom … Mom, is that you?”

I smiled, but didn’t let him see.

“Now just who do you think it is Billy Johnson? Come on, up now, outta bed.”

“Mom … can’t I have five more minutes?”

“No, up, come on. You’ve got class.” I dragged the comforter clean off the bed, leaving him with just a sheet for covering. “Come on, up and at ‘em.”

I went back downstairs to the kitchen where I was preparing breakfast.

“Mom?” My daughter was sat at the breakfast bar with a milk mustache and a pancake in her mouth. “Did you sign my permission slip?”

“I signed it sweetheart. It’s in your backpack.” I kissed the top of her head and turned to give my son one last call. “BILLY!”

“Alright already Mom. Jeez.”

I heard his feet stomp across the hallway to the bathroom. This was a typical morning at the Johnson house. We live in Northern California about five miles off of I-80 and about halfway between the ocean and the Nevada state border. Placer county, gold country, a quiet little town called Auburn. Never heard of it? Heard of Sacramento? That puts you in the right ball park. Never have much cause to go direct into the city though. We have most things we need right nearby.

I’m a housewife, a full-time mother. I don’t work, don’t need to, don’t want to. Besides which, I made my living a long time ago. My husband has a construction business which was his father’s before him and our oldest two boys work for him. They’re good sons, even though, biologically, they aren’t mine. That said, I did raise them both. I washed them, cleaned them, fed them, took them to little league, nursed their boo-boos and tucked them in at night. They’re my sons and I won’t have anyone tell me otherwise.

My husband’s first wife died in childbirth. Phil survived and three years six months later, I was his Mom. So really, I’m the only Mom he’s ever known. Mike too, he may have had a year and then some with his natural mother, but I’m all he really recalls. I love them and I would die for either one of them.

It was a Tuesday. With Lori and Billy in school, I had housework to do. Laundry first, get it in the machine, so I can start the vacuuming. Billy’s room. Pig sty. Why that boy never could put his dirty clothes in the hamper, I’ll never know. I had to pick them up off of the floor. Yuk. Crusty sock. I knew what that meant well enough, I’m his Mom, I’m not clueless as to the workings of a teenage boy.

I don’t know why he had to use his socks though. Having never had a pecker of my own to pull, I can’t say 100% what it feels like to beat off into a sock. I would have thought a nice, soft Kleenex would do just as well. And it would get rid of the evidence too and make less mess for me to have to clean up.

Still, I’m his Mom; masturbation is healthy and I’d rather he be doing it than not doing it. So I guess it’s my job to just grin and bear it. Truth be told, I could care less how he goes about doing it, just so long as it gives him the release he needs. Pent up hormones aren’t good for any boy his age.

Holding the sock in my hand, I caught myself wondering. What did he think of when he did it? Was there a special girl in school perhaps? Some actress he liked to think of? Were his fantasies kinky in any way? I smiled to myself; the boy is eighteen, a straight set of tits and a nice ass is probably all that matters to him. Did his jack-off material even need a face?

The sock was under my nose and I was inhaling slightly.

“Alexandra! You stop that.” I reprimanded myself out loud. What was I doing? Sniffing my own boy’s seed like that. Why, if anyone had happened to see me, they’d most likely lock me up for something like that.

I didn’t like to wash those ‘special socks’ with the rest of the load, though goodness knows why. It’s not like his shorts were any cleaner, nor those of his brothers. At least they didn’t use their socks to beat off though. That particular quirk was strictly Billy’s own. Anyways, I always pre-soaked them first, just to soften them up a little.

The first lot of laundry was in, I’d vacuumed Phil’s room and Lori’s and I was back in Billy’s. The cord didn’t reach to do the whole room from the hallway. It was enough to do Phil and Lori’s, but only half of Billy’s, so I went and unplugged it and brought it around to the power outlet by the window next to Billy’s desk.

As I bent down to plug it in, I saw something sticking out behind his desk. It looked like something had fallen off the desk and down behind. I reached in with my thumb and forefinger and pulled it out.

My heart leapt into my mouth.

Oh my God. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. Billy. No. Please God no.

It was a DVD. The Red Shoe Diaries, Zalman King. Porn. Softcore. But not just any porn.

When I said I didn’t work, that I’d already made my living … what I didn’t say was what I had made my living doing. I was an actress. I guess some would say only in the broadest sense could you call what I did acting.

I looked at the titles on the box. “Shit.” It was one of mine.

When I’d wondered earlier if he beat off to the thought of some actress, I did not, not for a single moment, ever, think that actress would be me. Fuck.

I opened the box. No disc. Fuck. I switched on his TV, pressed play on the remote. Fuck. It was my episode. Fuck. It was picking up during one of my two, shall we say ‘clothesless’ scenes. Fuck. Billy. Why? I’m your Mom. I’m 45 years old. Oh God, what was I ever to do?

I stopped the disc playing and switched off the TV set. As best I could I put the box back where I found it and carried on with my housework. My mind raced all day. It went every which way. Three thirty came and I don’t know how I got there. Lori was coming in through the front door and I could hardly remember another thing about my day. My own son Billy was masturbating thinking about me. And the house was spotless. How it came to be that way, I have no clue. Did I even grab a bite at lunch time? I couldn’t rightly recall.

“Hey sweetheart, how was the field trip?”

“Totally lame Mom.”

“You didn’t like the Old Schoolhouse Museum?” No surprise there. I didn’t like it any better when I was her age.

“Uh Mom, which part of lame don’t you understand?”

“Hey, watch your tongue there missy. I’m your mother, don’t talk back to me.”

“I’m sorry Mom. But it was a total drag.”

I pulled her to me and gave her a hug. “Go get cleaned up and make a start on your homework.”

“I don’t have any homework.”

“You don’t have a report to write on where you’ve been today?”

“Oh Mom … it’s not due till Friday.”

“Well go make a start, the sooner it’s done, the sooner you can relax.”


She walked off with her head down.


He startled me. Standing there in the doorway, he’d come in the back way.

“Hi Mom.”

“You’re looking chipper today.”

“What can I say Mom? The sun’s shining, the birds are singing, life is good.”

I raised my eyebrows and smiled at him. “Well. I’m glad you think so. You got homework?”

“Nah, I had a free period and did it all already.”

“Well go get cleaned up. You can help me with dinner.”

“Mom … if you don’t mind, I’d kinda like to relax in my room a little while. Just chill out, you know?”

“Chill out?”

“Sure Mom. I knew you’d understand. You’re cool that way.”

“I’m cool?”

He winked at me and headed on up to his room. I’m cool? With what I found out today, that child didn’t know the half of just how cool I was. I’m Frosty the fucking Snowman, that’s how cool I am.

I started dinner while Lori sat at the dinner table and worked on her report. Every so often she’d ask me how to spell a word. I could have just told her to look it up herself, but it’s my belief that every parent is also a teacher. And if your child asks you a question, you should answer it as best you can. If that’s just spelling, then it’s just spelling. She never asked me the same word twice, so I guess she was learning something from me.

We sat down as a family for dinner, as usual, then soon after, I went to bed. I had thoughts in my head that I couldn’t quite come to terms with. And I didn’t know how I felt about it.

My husband knew of course, but I’d only done a few TV shows, one direct to cable film and two TV movies. It wasn’t like I was famous or anything. I worked in the industry for a little more than three years and most of that time, I was a waitress.

And all the stars, that never were, are parking cars and pumping gas.

But my children didn’t know. To them, I was just Mom, plain old boring Mom. Chauffeur, maid, nurse, cook, you name it, I did it. I hadn’t even used my real name when I made those shows. Okay, I used my first name, but I’d used my mother’s maiden name as my last name, so it wasn’t like I could be recognized from either my married name or my childhood name.

And I looked different then, sexy, not … Mom-ly.

I sat up in bed, my husband was downstairs with the boys, so I took that opportunity to write a letter to my sister, to try to come to terms with my thoughts.

Dear Barbara,

I think my world is coming to an end.

I smelled her on him again. He told me it was over, promised me. But I knew. A woman does. You’ll have to remind me sis, why I don’t want to divorce that S.O.B. Why should he get everything? A wife to cook his meals and look after his children … and a floozy to fuck at the office. Accountant my ass. That harlot knows what she’s doing, rubbing herself all over him like that, marking her territory, letting me know she’s been on his no good cheating ass. Bitch. Bastard.

I don’t want to go on about Chip though. Something else happened today. Let me tell you about Mike first. He’s got himself a girl. Tina. Nice girl. Makes him happy. Phil is piling on the muscle. I don’t know how that boy does it. Works at the site all day long, then spends every evening at the gym. Lori’s starting to talk back. I’m going to have to sit her down and tell her what’s what, I think.

But it’s Billy that I’m writing this letter about sis. He’s got me so confused. I just don’t know what to do about it, if anything.

Oh Barb, what am I going to do? You remember all those fears I had soon after Billy was born, what if he someday found out about me, saw me, in those films? Well, he has. I found the Red Shoe Diaries in his bedroom today, hidden behind his desk, but the disc was in his player. He’d stopped it near the end of one of my scenes. He’s making himself cum watching me Barb. My little boy, he’s seen me naked. And fucking. Okay, only fake fucking, but that’s just semantics.

I’m so scared. I don’t know how to act around him, knowing he’s seen me that way. I mean, what must he think? Oh God Barb, where are you when I need you?

The next few days, Billy acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. Well, to him, it wasn’t. For me, it was the only thing on my mind. Sure, my husband was fucking another woman behind my back, but all I cared about was Billy. He was my main worry.

Wednesday, after he left for school, I had gone back into his bedroom and pulled his desk out. The DVD hadn’t fallen off of his desk, it was taped to the back of it. And there were another two right alongside. He had the complete collection, two episodes of the Red Shoe Diaries and the cable movie that was even more revealing than the TV show. He had his own mother’s complete nude works.

I guess with things like the internet movie database, once he’d discovered one, he would surely be able to find them all. I’m not on wikipedia, I wasn’t that big, though I am mentioned in the episodes cast for the Diaries entry.

But how did he find me in the first place? Oh Alex, don’t work yourself up. Internet, some obscure cable channel … a friend at school. Oh God, this just kept getting worse and worse. What if it was that, one of his friends? Did I know him? Did all his friends know? What if it was in the collection of one of their Dad’s, someone I knew from the PTA?

I just wanted to hide, move away, change my face, change my name. It’s funny how we change. When I was young, before I met my husband, I was carefree. I moved to LA with my sister and got ‘discovered’ waiting tables. I wasn’t shy and it was a great opportunity. I just thought of all the other actresses before me who’d had to show a bit of skin before they got their break. It wasn’t unusual.

But my break never really came and I grew tired of that life so moved back home to Auburn and married a guy my sister had dated as a sophomore. I became an instant mother to two adorable little boys, but it was the day Billy was born that I had my first ‘what if’ moment.

It was the skeleton in my closet, my danger word, the one thing that could hold me to ransom. And the last person in the world I ever wanted to know, now knew.

Barb’s reply came on Friday.

Alex honey, first things first. Breathe. Your world is not ending. Now. If you want a divorce, get one. Just think of the children. He’s their father. Things will change, they won’t be like they are now. Do you want Lori growing up being shipped between two houses? You and Charles are not fighting, you still love each other, kind of, do you really want to make the kids just another statistic of failed marriage?

We were lucky. Mom and Dad were in love all their lives. We never had to know anything but a happy house. You want the same for your kids, even if it comes at a cost to you. Six more years, you can boot him out and not worry about it.

Now Billy. Breathe. Are you breathing? Right, is he happy? Is he healthy? Two arms, two legs, two eyes? Is he loved? Is he financially supported? Has he got anything to worry about?

All boys have thoughts about their mothers at some point. And all boys have seen their mothers naked at some time. So don’t sweat it.

Besides sis, he may just have been curious. You don’t know that he’s beating off to you and only you, every day. He might never have done it at all. And even if he has, it’s natural, it’s … it’s probably even healthy. He can look at you in those shows, without any clothes on, look at your tits, your ass, even that hot little cunt of yours in the one and he can still look at your face, still look you in the eye, still see you as Mom. He’s clearly not damaged by it.

You should just relax, chill out sis. If he can handle it, you should be able to. Neither one of you is dying, so just don’t make an issue out of it. And anyway, I think it’s kind of cute. A boy fantasizing about his mother like that. It sort of makes me wish I had boys.

I know its naughty, I hope you don’t hate me for it, but after I read your letter, I watched your DVD too. And then I took a bath, shut my eyes, pictured myself as you … and thought of Billy watching me. God Alex, I squirted on the fucking mirror.

You know something else? I’m going to drop this letter in the mail, then I’m going to do it again. Maybe you should too, it’s just fantasy, in your head, it doesn’t mean anything. No one’s going to know. Give it a try. I bet you’ll cum harder than ever. And you may as well be cumming thinking of someone who does actually give a damn about you. Billy worships the ground you walk on. Go on, be naughty, take him for a ride!

Oh, just one other thing. If you want to know for sure, put a camera in his room. They make them tiny these days, he won’t even know it’s there. And that way, you’ll know for sure if he’s spanking his monkey to you. LOL!

And if he’s not, you’ll have seen him naked, he’s seen you naked, big deal, just get on with it.

Love ya sis. Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! (p.s. I’d fuck him!!!)

Oh God Barb, make things worse, why don’t you?

A week later, two more letters from my sister asking if I’d fucked him yet, in my head, not in actuality, I found myself browsing the electronics store in Lincoln, one town over. I couldn’t believe how inexpensive these things were. Cameras the size of thumbnails that didn’t even need wires. They sent signals through the air. A hundred and fifty bucks and two hours later, I sat watching an image of my son’s bedroom on my laptop. I had to reposition the camera a few times, for angle and location. I wanted to be able to see the image on his TV screen and him. I didn’t know if he beat off in bed or at his chair. Fortunately he’s got bookshelves in one corner of his room that were ideal, both for position and being discrete.

Friday night dinner, I sat on tenterhooks. I was trying to build up the courage to actually do what I’d set about doing. We had a full house all night and Billy hadn’t retreated to his room at any point. I sure wasn’t going to spy on him getting changed for bed.

Saturday was my first opportunity. Chip was taking Phil and Mike to a game, Lori was over at a friend’s house. It was just me and Billy, home alone.

Right, what would I do, if I was a teenage boy? Would I jack off in the daytime with Mom home? Probably not. Right, so Mom needs to go out. Where does Mom need to go? Where does Mom ever go? Mom has no life beyond her family and a few friends. Friends have their own families at weekends. Mom doesn’t go to the store on a Saturday unless she really needs something. What does Mom need?

There was a photographic exhibition in town. A local photographer had been all over California, taking the mountains, wine country – Napa, Golden Gate, Mountain View, Big Sur, Santa Barbara, I loved Santa Barbara, LA, Malibu, Santa Monica, Venice, Echo Park and Silver Lake, all places I knew well.

“Billy? Billy sweetheart?”

“Yeah Mom.” He shouted down from upstairs.

“I’m kind of bored sweetheart. Thought I’d head out for a little while.”

“Where to Mom?”

“Oh uh, there’s a … there’s a … exhibit in town. Photographic, California in …”

“California in bloom?”

“Yeah. California in bloom. So uh …”

“Can I come?”


“Um, sure honey, if you want to, if you don’t mind hanging out with your old Mom.”

He laughed. “Mom, you’re funny. I love hanging out with you. You’re my favorite person to hang out with.”

“Well … grab your gear, let’s head on out. Sweetie, don’t forget to shut the upstairs windows.”

“Sure Mom, I’ll be right down.”

Well that didn’t exactly go to plan.

“Oh look at that Mom, isn’t it beautiful?”

“It sure is sweetheart. That’s the interior of the Fremont Theater in um, San Luis Obispo I think. Yeah, it says it right there. I thought it was. I’ve been there.”

“You have?”



“Oh when I was, a little older than you I guess. Your aunt and I, we used to get around in our younger days.”

“I wish I’d known you then Mom. It would have been great to hang out with you when you were my age.”

I nudged him and smiled. “What makes you say that sweetheart?”

“Cos you were so beautiful. Not that you aren’t now, my God Mom, you are, I just mean. You know. If we were the same age and all … do you think we would have been friends?”

“You’d have been my best friend Billy.”

He smiled and tucked his arm around my waist. “You are my best friend Mom.”

“Oh Billy. You’re mine too.” I kissed the side of his face, though he was quite a bit taller than me now and showing no signs of stopping.

“Is that uh … is that Venice?”

“Yep,” I said.

“I saw a movie just the other day that was shot there.”

“You did? What was it called?”

“Um, uh … I um …”

“You forget?”


“Wasn’t it any good?”

“No it was awesome.”

“Yet you forgot its name?”

“Yeah, I didn’t see the start. It was on Turner Classic Movies.”


“Have you ever been to Venice, Mom?”

“I have.” As he well knew I had. The show he’d seen my naked ass in had been partially shot there, with the boardwalk for a backdrop.

“Did you have fun?”

“A little.”

“You’ll have to take me some day Mom.”


When we got home, the men had a barbecue going in the back yard. So much for my wonderful plan.

Dear Barbara,

What does it mean when I think about Billy all day? He’s never out of my mind sis. He’s … so … Billy. You know? He’s … wonderful. He notices things, little things, like when my glass needs a refill or when my back needs a rub. He’s … twice the man Chip ever was. And I fell in love with his cheating ass. It makes me wonder … if … you know, if I could do what you suggested … think about Billy in that way.

Billy had become the last thought on my mind before I drifted off to sleep and my first waking thought.

Alex, for God’s sake, fill a bath, get your clothes off, get that sweet, nubile, to die for ass of yours into the water and flick that bean to the thought of your son. And do it now. The moment you read this. You don’t know what you’re missing. I’ve been having head sex with him for a week already. Now come on. Just do it. We can compare notes afterwards, like we always used to. Come on sis, you only fucked Charles after I did, I’ve fucked Billy, it’s your turn.

Oh God. I’ve got my son masturbating thinking about me and my sister masturbating thinking about my son.

Cleaning could wait. I filled the bath and stood looking in the mirror till it completely steamed over. I wiped my hand across it. I wasn’t unattractive. I had nice lips. Eyes too. I was still slim, though my tits were bigger now than back then. They always used to be quite small, but my nipples were fucking awesome. And dark. I could never wear anything light colored without them showing through. Which I loved. Then.

I slipped my shirt over my head and dropped my work pants to the bathroom floor. I looked down at my body. I didn’t have a tummy, it was washboard flat, I even had abs, pretty good definition. I worked out and I ate right. I didn’t lift weights though, because I’ve always found muscles on women, especially on their arms, to be a ghastly sight. Madonna? Yuk!

I unhooked my bra and rolled my panties down my thighs, letting them fall to the tiles. The mirror was misted too bad now, so I just slipped into the bath and sunk down, turning off the faucet with my toes.

I sighed and sank my head under the water. I let my fingers find my pussy. I came up for air and rested my head on the inflatable pillow. God. I couldn’t do this. I needed to do this, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t not. I needed some relief, it had been long enough. But how could I do as my sister said and think of my son? Truth? I couldn’t think of anyone else. He was all I ever thought of these days.

So I did. I thought of him on his chair, watching his TV set, watching me, watching the Red Shoe Diaries, watching his Mom, his Red Shoe Mom. I didn’t even picture him naked, though it was in my mind that he was rubbing himself, I didn’t look, I had no image of his cock or its size in my head, just that he was captivated by the image of me on screen. And I remembered the filming of it. How totally not sexy it all was. Hanging around all day in a bathrobe, waiting for the call. Off with the robe. Action. Then before we’d even begun, cut! Back on with the bathrobe, cigarette, walk around, read a magazine. Lighting. It was always lighting. The lighting had to be just so. Always the lighting. Action.

And that was it. I was cumming. My son was more background than foreground in my fantasy, but he was a part of it nonetheless. That made me feel better about it. I hadn’t used my son, but he had been present, watching more than partaking. And Barb was right. God was she right. That was magnificent.

But it solved nothing. If anything, it just complicated matters. My son was masturbating to me, I was masturbating to him, my sister was masturbating to us both. But I still didn’t know, not for sure anyways, that he was masturbating to me. I resolved to find out, one way or another.

The next Monday, two weeks after having discovered my son’s secret, Lori had glee club after school, so again it was just me and Billy.

“Sweetie, I have a hair appointment in town. Your sister will be back in two hours. I should be back a little after that, but before your father and brothers. Okay?”

I waited. “Billy?”

“Sure Mom. Take care.”

“Thank you sweetheart. You too. Love you.”

“Yeah, love you Mom.”

I’d been booked in for a wet cut that morning but had been able to change the appointment for four. The laptop was hidden away and the software had been left to record.

All through the cut, my mind was elsewhere. Jane Perkins was catching me up on all the latest town gossip and all I’d done was nod and make a few mm-hm sounds. What would they ever say if they knew what I was up to at that instant in time? Recording my son naked and masturbating to a nude video of his own mother. Why that’s just sick Alex, you should be locked up. I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I sat there, counting down the minutes.

I walked in to the house, but I was the last one in. A water main had burst on Elm and traffic was backed up for six blocks. I looked at Chip, sat at the table. He looked up momentarily before going back to the Sacramento Bee. I brushed past him and turned to inhale, to see if her scent was on my husband. It wasn’t.

“Hey Ma, where’s dinner?”

“It’s in the oven Phil, should be about twenty minutes.”

“Right. I’ll grab a beer then.”


I turned, “Yeah Mike?”

“Is there something different about you?”

“Why yes there is.” What a pleasant surprise, Mike noticing.

“Did you get a new dress?”

“No dumbass, she’s had a haircut.”

“Billy, don’t call your brother a dumbass. Say you’re sorry.”

“Sorry Mike. You’re not a dumbass. But you are an ass and you are dumb, so you figure it out.”

Mike punched him in the shoulder.

“Ow-ww-ww! Mom … he hit me.”

“You reap what you sew Billy.”

“I’m sorry Mom. Sorry Mike. And your hair does look nice Mom.”

Meatloaf was a little dry. But it didn’t matter, it was just one meal. I’d make it up to them tomorrow. Tonight, I just had to go check on my video.

I carried the laptop into the bathroom and locked the door. I clicked on the file and it started to play. I fast forwarded a little way. Billy was in his room. Sat at his desk, he turned to say goodbye to me. Then he went to the window, presumably to make sure I was leaving. Next he closed the drapes, switched on his TV set and pulled out his desk. He reached for one of the DVD’s taped to the back and chose the full length movie.

I had four nude scenes in that one, two of them, full frontal.

He waited for it to load, then selected the scene. The third one, the longest one. There was foreplay in this one, a fair bit of kissing first, then a slow striptease, then a close up of my bush, camera panning up to my pert nipples, pan back, full frontal. Then sex. I rode the guy, damn it, what was his name? He’d been in the Red Shoe Diaries too, though not in any of my episodes. Anthony something.

Shit. He was pulling down his jeans. Then his shorts. He sat in the chair and I caught a brief glimpse of my son’s ass. He was jacking off his cock, though I couldn’t see it. Wow, look at his arm go! I felt so bad, like I was betraying his trust.

But hey, he was the one masturbating to the sight of his nude 25 year old mother.

Wait, he was stopping. What’s he stopping for? He had the remote in his hand. Pause. No, not pause, slow advance, a quarter speed. My bush.

His cock. He turned in the chair, I could see it now. Fuck me. It was huge. I couldn’t tell exactly, but it would at least reach to his belly button. And from the way his hand was working up and down the shaft, I’d have said he could fit both fists around it and still his head would poke out the top.

And what a head it was. Magnificent. He changed technique. He’d been working the shaft, but now he switched to a backhand stroke, easing up over his crown, his shaft skin pulled taut by the might of the erection. Was he doing it dry? I hadn’t seen him lube up.

My fingers were rubbing on my panties and I didn’t even realize.

Oh-oh, here comes the sock. Wait for it. Whoah. There she blows!

He let the DVD go back to play, then paused on my face. He kissed the tip of his finger, then leant forward and touched that finger to the paused image of my lips. How sweet. He dropped the sock on the floor and kicked it under his desk and then walked butt naked from the waist down out into the landing hallway. I fast forwarded again. He reappeared, his cock now soft, but dangling between his legs. It must have been six inches flaccid. It was fucking gorgeous and I found myself pausing the laptop’s playback while I pulled down my panties so I could gain better access to my clit.

This was so wrong. But I felt closer to Billy somehow. He did it. And now I did too. We both got off watching the other naked on video. It was so naughty, but ever so nice. I let the video continue and watched as he casually walked around, not a care in the world. He replayed the DVD scene, just aimlessly stroking his cock, then ejected the disc and placed it back in the box, using a fresh piece of Scotch tape to stick it back to his desk.

My legs began to twitch and I had to put the laptop down on the floor while I rode this one out. My pussy was oozing and giving me pleasure like I couldn’t ever remember experiencing before.

I filled the bathtub and decided to shave myself. I hadn’t been bald down there for a year or more. Something in that moment, seeing my pussy up on screen with all that hair again, I just wanted to get rid of it all, give myself better access.

As I lay there in the water, my mind turned to next time. I was going to have to orchestrate another such event, when Billy would be home alone. And soon. And I had a letter to write to my sister too. She was going to have a stroke when she read it!

Later that evening I sat alone at the kitchen table with a cup of hot tea. I always preferred tea before bed. Billy came in and sat down next to me.

“Hey Mom.”

“Hey son.”

“Your hair looks really nice Mom … you look really nice.”

“Thank you Billy.”

“I love you Mom.”

I pulled him closer to me and gave him a hug. “I love you, with all of my heart.” I held my finger to my lips and kissed it, then pressed it to my son’s lips, just as he had done to the TV screen earlier. He smiled and squeezed me tighter, then made his way to bed.

Two days later, I was rolling out a pie crust when Billy walked in. He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around me and pressed his cheek to my own. I pushed my cheek back into his and crossed my arms over his.

As we stood there quietly, just swaying back and forth, I felt him withdraw. I wiggled my butt a little to let him know I didn’t want him to go and I became aware of a hardness in his pants. He must have realized I could feel it because he pulled his arms free of mine, just grazing his fingertips over my breasts as he did.


He turned away from me and went to leave.

“Billy, that was nice sweetheart. Thank you.”

“Anytime Mom.”


“Sure Mom.”

“How about now?”

“Uh …” He hesitated, still turned away from me.

I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around him as he had done around me. I pressed myself into him, my mound into his butt and my breasts into his back. I had to stand on tippy toes to rest my chin on his shoulder. I felt his hands take hold of mine.

“Mmm, this is nice. You’ll always be my baby boy. I love you Billy.” I kissed his cheek. He turned his head to me and I stepped around the side of him, stroking his shoulder and arms as I felt my way around him. When I stood facing, mere inches between us, I pressed myself forwards into him and could feel his cock throb against my abdomen. I looked up into his eyes and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips, just a light peck, but something we didn’t often do as mother and son.

I stroked his face, which was blushing quite some and let him go. I went to my laptop and set it to record. Lori was home, but she was in the den listening to Miley, while trying to twerk or something like that, don’t ask me, I don’t know and I don’t want to know.

I went back to my baking and pictured my son upstairs in his room, watching me on his TV set, with that big, throbbing cock between his legs, pulling on it, unloading into a sock.

I couldn’t resist the urge to know, to see it happening live. I opened up the laptop and clicked on the window to bring up his room. Sure enough, he had his pants around his ankles and his dick peeked out the front of his shorts. He was sat on the edge of his bed tugging away at it in full view.

My God, that was such a mighty cock. Far bigger than his father. But it was strange, because he wasn’t watching me, on one of those DVD’s. He wasn’t watching anybody, he just had his eyes shut and my heart sank. Maybe he was over me. Maybe I wasn’t the centre of his world.

Just then I saw his lips move. It looked like he was saying — I didn’t have volume, there was no microphone, just a camera. And I was certainly no lip reader. But he was, there, he did it again, he was saying — Mom. Oh, my baby. He was thinking of our encounter in the kitchen.

Just then, Lori came out of the den. “Is Billy home yet?”

“Yeah sweetie.”

“Great, I want to ask him something.” She went to head on upstairs.

“Uh, Lori, could you give me a hand with this please?”

“But Mom, I wanna …”

“Don’t you but Mom me. You can ask your brother whatever you want to ask him when he comes back down. I’d like some help please.”

She tutted her tongue but reluctantly came and helped me. The laptop sat on the side of the counter with the lid closed and my eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to it. How I wanted to lift that lid and look at my naked son masturbating to the thought of his Mom.

I managed to keep Lori from walking in on Billy and that had been my only concern. Dinner was spaghetti and meatballs with a nice American apple pie for dessert. I went to bed early that night and masturbated before Charles came to bed. I could have kept going for hours but my husband walked in and disturbed me. He wanted some loving. I just turned over and pretended to have a headache. Didn’t stop the jerk from jerking off next to me, probably thinking of that hussy.

The weekend brought my next opportunity with Billy. Lori was going to the Downtown Plaza with a friend’s Mom. Any excuse to go shopping at the mall, that girl. Importantly, Charles and the boys were taking the boat out on Folsom to fish for some bass or trout. They’d get liquored up and be gone most of the day.

“Billy sweetie, I’m going for a run. Should be about an hour okay sweetie?”

“Sure Mom, have fun.”

“I will baby, I love you.”

“Yeah Mom, love you.”

I headed out the front yard and into the street, running a short ways down the block before stopping to glance back at our house. I could see Billy shutting his drapes. Yes. I waited a minute, building up the courage to go back.

I snuck quietly in the front door, shucking my sneakers at the bottom of the stairs and then cautiously treading up the stairs. That was one good thing about having three guys who worked construction in the house — we didn’t have any squeaky treads, no lose boards. I stood with my back to the wall next to Billy’s door and listened.

I had to listen really close to hear anything at all, but I could just about make out the creaking of his chair and some heavy breathing.

I placed my hand on the door knob and opened it as discreetly as I could, just a little way, then a bit more, then I could see him. And me. I was on screen again. Red Shoe Diaries this time. I opened the door just a touch more and rested my shoulder against the door jamb.

“Mom, oh God Mom, yes, Mom, Mom,” he breathed heavily. “Oh Mom, I love you Mom, I love you so much, I wanna fuck you Mom, oh, oh, God, Mom, oh …”

I cleared my throat and Billy turned.

“Fuck!” And that was it, he came. He shot his load all up his belly, his creamy, white load, hot sticky jizz.



I walked over to him and he scrambled to cover himself. I saw the sock lying on his desk top and I smiled.

“Mom, what are you doing? Fuck!”

“What am I doing? I don’t know, you tell me Billy. I think you have some explaining to do.” I looked at the TV set and the image of me naked on there. “Don’t you?”

“Oh God Mom, I’m sorry.”


By now, I was standing right on top of my son. I looked at his jizz, his hands covered his cock, but they struggled to do so. I dipped my finger in his sperm and twisted it around my finger as I raised it to my lips to taste.

“Fuck me Mom!” he yelled out, perhaps not even realizing what weight his words carried.

I smiled at him. “You want to?”


“You want me to fuck you?”

“I’m sorry Mom, it’s just an expression, I mean, fuck, wow, you just … ate my cum.”

“Mm. And tasty it was too.” I licked my finger and kissed it, then pressed that finger against his lips, just poking it inside a little. “So let me see if I’ve got this straight, you do or you don’t want me to fuck you?”

I’d confused him. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets. He had words in there somewhere, I’m sure he did. He just couldn’t get any of them out.




“Yes sweetheart.”


I fell to my knees and lifted his hands clean off of his crotch. My God, he was still hard. His dick sprang up his abdomen and his cum was slick and dripping all down the outside of his shaft. I placed my finger on his head and began rubbing his cum around the tip and the underside of his big mushroom. My finger glided to the top again and with my little finger, I pressed slightly into his pee hole.

You stare out the window at the rain and wonder if it is fate. One year ago today you were wearing your wedding dress, thrilled and terrified to be marrying Terry. It was raining that day but you hadn’t noticed until the phone call came and your mother-in-law collapsed.

Moments after that are still broken and blurred to you. Being rushed into your honeymoon limo with your bridesmaids to go to the hospital… Sitting in your full gown in the hospital waiting room staring at a cup of cold coffee… the doctor walking toward you with a look of defeat. You knew he was dead.

It had been a hard year. After the shock and the weeping there had been the funeral. You remember how Terry’s family sort of drifted away as the months passed. You didn’t go out and were terrified of driving.

Luckily your work let you stay at home most of the time. When you absolutely had to be driven somewhere, a girlfriend would drive you.

Once when everyone was too busy and you had to get to Cardiff you called Tristam, Terry’s brother. You hadn’t talked in awhile, but he stepped into the breach and spent the day driving you, waiting for you and driving you home. The dinner you treated him too seemed like pale reward for such gallant behavior.

You hadn’t meant to do it again, but then he called you just when you needed another lift. Never did find out why he called but you found yourself looking forward to him pulling up in his Land Rover.

A month of rides and dinners passed when you got to know him better. He’d always been scarce when you were dating Terry but had moved back home. A month of rides before he kissed you.

You wanted him but you also knew it wasn’t time. Your heart wasn’t ready to open again. He said he understood. After another week of rides you started to believe him.

Your favorite author would call it a slow burn romance, the kind kindled in friendship and a sexual longing marinated in chaste kisses and brief hugs.

As summer came and passed, you realized you were in love with him. Slowly that became okay in your head as well as your heart. A fortnight ago, you kissed him.

Your romance flared up bright and hot. Your thoughts were consumed with him and you brought him to your bed with great anticipation. He did not disappoint.

Tristam was a passionate and patient lover, eager to please you first before taking you as his own. His body was beautiful due more to genetics than the three kilometer runs he would take. He made you feel loved, desired, cherished, and consumed all at once. You’d never felt it before.

Turning from the window, you hear him come into the house with the key you’d given him. He walks up the stairs to your bedroom and steps in holding a single rose.

His face is serious as he walks up and kisses you. He knows the date as well as you. You slide into his arms and bury your face in his chest. You flow with tears, cradling a sadness in your heart which while undiminished, seemed dulled by time.

You lose track of time as he holds you and strokes your hair. When you finally draw back, the room seems dim. The sun is setting leaving you in twilight.

Your emotions are jumbled, echoes of grief wrestling with an intense desire to feel alive, to feel anything good. You kiss Tristam again, this time with passion. You need him. You need him to take you, to carry you away into the oblivion of selfless pleasures. You cradle his cock in his jeans and your need is made plain.

Leaving the room in only the watery twilight, you both get undressed. Clothes are laid neatly over the backs of chairs. You pull back the covers together and lay on the bed facing each other.

The shadows play tricks on your bodies but your hand knows the way to his cock. It is hot and hard, the power of his desire for you. You move the soft skin toward the tip and then toward the base slowly.

His hand slides over your hip to cradle your lower back as he moves close. His lips find yours and you share moisture and soft breath. You feel the hairs of his chest tickling your breasts until he moves a little closer, pressing against you.

For a time, all there is are his kisses, your hands just holding him. But soon your fires are built up and you want him too much to wait.

“I want you…” you whisper. A simple phrase but so powerful. It says that he is your everything, your world at the moment, and there is nothing you could imagine wanting more than him.

In an unusual move, he shifts himself on top of you, pushing your legs apart with the movement of his thighs. You feel his cock gently stroking your full, wet labia as his mouth moves to suckle your nipples.

A low moan of pleasure vibrates up from your core and you hold your breasts to his mouth, eager for your sensitive nipples to be licked and pulled between his lips.

He teases you at length, getting you wetter and more desperate for completion. The head and shaft of his cock becomes fully lubricated by the flowing desire between your legs.

“please…” you beg.

Shifting himself down the bed a little he moves his hands under your knees. In a single movement he lifts your legs up and raises your pelvis. You gasp, anticipating his cock, but then feel it dancing against your arse.

He looks at you, not saying a word, searching your twilight face for a sign. You bite your lip and nod. Suddenly such taboo penetration is just what you desire.

Your legs hook on his shoulders and you feel his hands grip your arse, groping you in his rampant desire. His fingers find your pussy and stroke you, covering each finger in your juices. Then they travel down between your cheeks and begin to massage your hole.

Apprehensions battle base desires you only let loose in your latest night fantasies. You will yourself to relax and then gasp as his first finger slithers into your bottom. The barrier breached, you soon felt two and then three pushing inside you. It wasn’t enough.

“Fuck me!” you blurt, your hands gripping the bed sheets. His fingers slip out and you feel the head of his cock press against your bottom. It takes over a minute, but finally you feel your arse relax and the head of his cock pop inside you.

Once the head is in, his shaft slides in quite easily. You’re breathing fast and flush. The sensation of his cock in your arse is strange and wonderful, new and far more exciting than you could imagine. You love feeling him fill you up and want him deep inside you.

He begins to work his cock out and then back in. Everything is slow and he keeps stroking juices from your pussy to lubricate the penetration. Moments turn to minutes and gentle pushing escalate to thrusts.

When your bodies start slapping as he fucks your tight arse, you feel your body responding with a buzz of pleasure. It races from your toes to your ears with sharp twinges in your nipples and clit. You’re feeling violated and all you can think of is more.

“I’m going to fill you with my cum,” he moans and his thrusts become faster, harder, and deeper. You’re riding high and close to the edge of your own orgasm. When his fingers find your clit, it only takes a dozen strokes to set off an immense wave of pleasure.

Your body grows tighter and then the spasms of intense pleasure begin, thundering in your pussy and ass and slamming out across your body to throw you in wild abandon. Your yelling something but you can’t think enough to know what. All you know is that you’re cumming harder than ever and your lover’s cock is deep inside you.

Your orgasm grips his cock tight and sends him over the edge. He pushed in one last time, his waist pressed hard against your bottom as his cock throbs and then spurts his eruption deep inside your bottom.

Slowly your bodies relax away from your orgasms, rigid postures of erotic tension ease into softer caresses. He slips out of you and moves to lay beside you. His body is hot against your back, his half-hard cock nestled lengthwise between your cheeks. His hands move to hold you, fingers resting on your breasts.

You whisper your love for each other and then notice that the sun has broken through to reveal a glorious sunset outside your window.


I awoke in the morning as the light streamed in through the window. As I opened my eyes, Caren was watching me.

“Good morning, darlin’. I like watching you awaken. You were sleeping so deeply but then you made a little smile and rolled over. What a nice way to wake up.”

I mumbled something as a response but without that first cup of coffee, I don’t think anyone could understand me, let alone Caren.

“I just had the best dream before waking. I was dreaming that you were going down on me and as I came, I awoke. How good is that. That’s another first for me. Thanks to you.” I knew she was telling me the truth because the room reeked of her sex. “Can you smell me? I stink!” What a woman!

She laughed as she slipped out of bed and ran into the bathroom. I heard her flush and then run the shower. I didn’t feel like moving, just listening to her. I’ll never know why but I knew at that precise moment that the long odyssey of loneliness since my divorce was over. A wellness came over me; I felt whole again. I knew that I had found my ideal mate and I wanted to be with her always. Yes, I decided, this was love.

She came back into the bedroom as she towelled off. “Someone looks like the cat that ate the canary.”

I smiled at her. “Yes, missy. I was just lying here thinking about how much I have loved these days with you. I realized just how much I like being with you, how much I want to learn about you and mostly, just how much I think I am in love with you.”

She stopped cold as she was draping the towel around her hair. “Did you just say what I think I heard you say? Did you just say that you are in love with me?”

“Yes, you heard right. I hope I didn’t upset you but I’m just expressing the way I feel.”

Her eyes welled up and I saw tears forming. She got onto the bed and looked me in the eye. “Please say it again so I know I wasn’t hallucinating.”

“I love you, Caren. Since the moment you stepped into my life, you’ve made it infinitely better. I love you. I do.”

“I must be tripping.” She pinched herself. “One more time, please?”

“Hmmm…I’m crazy about you. I think I’m in love with you. I want us to be together…”

She began to cry as she learned down and smothered me in kisses. Her tears dripped onto my cheeks as her tears mixed with little laughs of glee. She was choked up and both of us were emotional.

“Before, when I watched you sleep, I thought to myself, “I love this man.” I want to be with you always, Ray. You complete me.” She sat up. “I’m cancelling the plane back. I’m going to quit my job. I’m going to…”

“Hold it, hold it. Slow down. You’re not cancelling your reservation. You’re going to go back and go to your job. I’m going back in a couple of days and I’m going to prepare my house for you. I’m going to fly to Chicago in about a week and we will decide what the reality of the situation is together. And then we’ll take it from there.”

“Whatever you say as long as you come get me. I can quit tomorrow, I don’t care, there’s always another legal secretary around. Now, I don’t think that I even have a life if it isn’t with you…you, my partner.” Again, she smothered me in kisses, laughing in joy.

“Now, come on, my love, you have a plane to catch.”

“Come with me to the other house as I dress. I want us to talk more about this.”

She collected all her things and wrapped in the towel, and with a cup of joe in my hand, we went next door. It took her no time at all to pack as she never really unpacked. We spoke of the intricasies involved in changing our lives and decided that there was nothing we couldn’t quickly overcome. We were determined to make this happen and as quickly as possible. In fact, when she went to the airline web site to check the status of the flight, I made my reservation to fly from Islip to Midway a week later.

After much hugging and kissing, she pulled her rental car out of the driveway and headed for the airport. I stood and watched until I could no longer see the tail lights. Suddenly, I felt her absence and I felt at a loss which only steeled my resolve to be with her and make her a permanent part of my life.

I seemed to sleepwalk for the next two days. Dutifully, I visited my mother and even told her of my luck. She gave me a smile and I think she understood (or perhaps that is just me projecting).Still, it made me feel good to think that she knew what I was saying.

Candace called me the day after Caren flew home. “Ray, I was wondering what you were doing right now. I figured that with Caren gone, I might make a good stand-in. I can set up a threesome with Galena for tomorrow or if you like, I can come over now, fuck you silly and you can make me squirt.”

“Thanks for the offer, Candace. It sounds tempting but I’m sorry, we won’t be able to hook up. I’m pretty busy for the next few days.”

“Aw. Too busy for pussy? You mean that I won’t be able to squirt on your face again?”

“Maybe on my next trip, Candace.”

“Did my friend break your cock? Did she? Tell me the truth!”

“You might be right. I think maybe she did. She broke it off and took it back to Chicago. It’s her dick now.”

I don’t think Candace liked the way I answered. She got all kinds of huffy with me between pleading for one more fuck. Finally, I was able to get her off the phone. I thought to myself that Candace had Galena, a strap-on and lots of batteries. If she wanted, she could probably go fuck herself. I felt nothing for her and I was glad. She was annoying.

As I flew back to Long Island, I realized that Caren had not left my thoughts since the moment she drove away.

Over the next week, we spoke on the phone constantly. One night, we skyped and watch each other masturbate. My computer must have downloaded smell-o-vision because I could swear I could detect her scent wafting from the monitor.

I told some of my friends about my good luck and they were most pleased for me. I thought it significant when one told me that it would good to see the old Ray again and not the mopey, sullen character I’d become. I thought that I agreed; I would like to see the old Ray, too, although I knew I was ‘back’ because I felt that joie de vivre again after so long in stasis.

When I landed at Midway, she was waiting at the gate, her manatee necklace dangling in her cleavage. We threw our arms around each other and hugged each other. “I am so glad you are here, my darling. This week has been torture.” She squeezed me.

“I can’t disagree. I’ve been waiting to hold you since the moment you drove off.”

“Come on, hurry. I can’t wait to make love to you.”

I like Chicago. Except for a bad week I had there during the summer of ’68 and the Democratic National Convention, it’s always been a fun place. Great blues. Great steaks. Not that I saw any of the city, I did not. We spent the weekend in her apartment.

“I resigned my job yesterday, Ray. It was no big deal but I can now receive all the vested benefits. I’ve wanted to quit for a long time so I just did it. I was wasting away there. There are other things I want to do…with you.”

“And I fixed up my house for you. I think you will really love it.”

“We could be in a shotgun shack for all I care just as long as I am with you…and wrapped around this beautiful cock.” She took me into her mouth and lovingly brought me to hardness for the umpteenth time. This time, her blowjob was tender and delicate. She seemed to be worshipping my cock and loving it. When I came, she sipped my cum as if through a straw. I was in awe of her skills, so incredibly heightened since our vacation just a couple of weeks earlier.

I found that when I went down on her, it was more tender and loving as well. As I kissed and licked her, feelings of care and devotion washed over me. Eating her was like a fine art, a gourmet meal; she was my ultimate pleasure. Our sex during that weekend was positively inspirational and divine.

On Monday, we flew back to Long Island. She’d already started to make arrangements to move her belongings. Everything was in motion for our cohabitation and that pleased us both tremendously.

She loved my house and took to it immediately. While not a very big house, it had been in my possession for nearly thirty years since I bought it from my uncle. It has always suited me fine. On a small but valuable piece of property, the deck faced the ocean and the view was what Hampton homes are all about. She immediately took to the house and enjoyed feminizing the man-cave interior almost as much as the two of us did warming up in the hot tub. The only problem we had was the rising cost of living there. The Hamptons are an incredibly expensive place in which to live and, with the arrival of the hedge fund motherfuckers, every cost had risen to bizarre levels. My house simply became very expensive to maintain.

Our friends were all happy for us and to see the change in me. Between the parties I took her to and the shows at Stephen Talkhouse, she felt very welcome. We hosted some of her friends during a few short visits and they were over-the-top thrilled for the two of us. Her friends were somewhat more reserved and proper than my crazy East End crowd but her friends were business people and office workers and my friends were all artists and musicians so it stands to reason. Watching the two mix was very instructive as well as fascinating. I soon got the feeling that Caren liked my crowd more. I should also tell you that during this time, we were monogamous…that is except for once which I will tell you about after I bring you up to speed.

Life had turned around for us and we luxuriated in our relationship. We were both “on the same side” and it felt wonderful. We had a few little disagreements that we quickly worked out. We never had what one might call an argument or a spat. No, we were of one mind and it was very comforting.

I relate this story to you because to us, we are a miracle to be shared. The events I have related took place nearly ten years ago and we are still together, still very much in love and sharing a paradisical existence. Yup, even to an old codger like me, love conquers all.

We’ve spent the last ten years enjoying every adventure. We’ve constantly changed and altered ourselves, I’d say ‘mutually morphed’ in order to allow ourselves to grow. For one thing, our residence in East Hampton only lasted one year before we moved on.

What happened was that my mother passed. When we went down to St. Pete to make funeral arrangements, we both had a revelation and that was that we liked it down on the Gulf Coast more than on the ritzy Long Island shore. Besides the financial aspects, there was the superfine weather, the spectacular Gulf…why wouldn’t we want to move? There was no reason not to. And as luck would have it, we seemed to bring each other luck. When we returned to East Hampton, we set things in motion to move away.

My friend Alvin told me that he was considering selling off some of his properties. I quickly made an offer on the Longboat Key house (which he said was the best of his lots) and we agreed on the sale for a little over one million dollars. Caren was thrilled. I put my little paradise up for sale and because it was a rare piece of East Hampton oceanfront that I knew held high value, I was able to get close to eight million dollars for it leaving a healthy piece of change in my pocket. In fact, I sold the house to a young and rising movie starlet and her rock star husband.

For two weeks before our move, we were feted and hailed by our friends with fancy dinners at pricey restaurants. One of the best parties took place at The Talkhouse with all my favorite bands and musicians in attendance. That was a glorious night that lasted deep into the wee hours.

The best party, however, took place at another beachfront property, this one on the Montauk cliffs where Doug and Lora lived. Just up the road from Bruce Weber, Dick Cavett, Julian Schnabel and Paul Simon, it commands what might be the most impressive vista available on Long Island. From the wide front lawn to the cliff, there is a complete two hunded and forty degree expansive view of the ocean.

Doug and Lora had been long-time friends and lovers; my favorite playmates. I told Caren all about them and she was excited to meet them. The party they threw was an afternoon affair with several live bands and lots of our mutual friends. The food was catered by Bobby Flay’s company and everything was terrific. As the party began to end and guests began to drift away, Caren came to me as I stood near the edge of the cliff.

“I just had a conversation with Lora and she wants us to stay after everyone is gone. She asked me if she and Doug can play with you one last time. I told her that we would love to play with them but not to consider it “the last time” as we will have them down to Longboat as our guests in the very near future.”

“That was nice of you. But, to be honest with you, I’m really not all that interested in sex with them anymore. You are more than enough for me.”

“And I feel the same…but I feel their warmth for you and I think this could be fun. It’s been a long time since we’ve partied and, to be honest, I’m turned on by them. You know, I’ve never been a foursome…this is another fantasy I’d like to satisfy. What do you say, stud?”

Smiling, I said, “Okay. You’ve twisted my arm.” Just then Lora called to us back to the house.

They were waiting for us on the deck. Doug asked us to follow him as he had something to show me. He ushered us into the studio alongside the house. There, he pulled a cloth off a large canvas. It was a beautiful painting and one of the nicest I’d ever seen him create. It was an abstract of the oceanview from the cliff but it had a sense of wildness mixed with a warm sense of bliss. It was incredible. Caren and I stood in front of it and were astounded by it.

“It’s incredible, Doug…just incredible.”

“It’s called “Maximum Satisfaction” and it is dedicated to you, Ray. I painted it after the last time we were together. It is a gift to you if you want it. Consider it a housewarming present.”

“I don’t know what to say, Doug. I am so touched. Of course, I accept it. Having your painting hang in our new house is a great honor. I don’t know what to say except that I love it. And I love you. Both of you. All three of you.”

“I love it too, Doug. It speaks volumes to me. We can’t thank you enough.”

“That’s not true, Caren. I know one way to thank us.” She pulled the four of us together in a group hug. “Let us make love to you tonight.”

Caren leaned into Lora and kissed her. Lora returned the kiss and more. They broke apart just as Doug leaned into me and kissed me. I accepted his kiss. Our mustaches met and tickled each other.

“Wow. That was pretty cool.” I could see Caren’s pleasure rising by the flush in her cheeks as she watched us kiss.

“Let’s go where it’s more comfortable, shall we?” Lora took Caren’s hand and led us out of the concrete floored studio into the house. “There now, isn’t this better? Where were we?” She placed her arms around Caren and they kissed again. Doug walked over to me and began unbuttoning my shirt. I could see Caren watching us, her eyes following every move. Doug had my shirt open and was stroking my chest and lightly pinching my nipples. I began to pull his shirt up and over his head as we stood there swapping spit.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” asked Lora.

“I’ve never watched anything like this before. I’ve always wanted to see two men make love. It is very erotic.” Caren was visibly awed.

“Then let’s sit and watch, shall we?” They sat down on the expansive sofa in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the ocean. I could feel Caren’s eyes on me as my shirt dropped to the floor. Doug’s lips had moved down to my nipple and his hands held my ass. It felt very good. My hands traveled down his chest to the package straining against his clothes. It felt very good. My hands circled his cock and I could feel the outline of the head against the fly. I slowly unzipped him and reached in. I knew he would be going commando and his hard piece flipped out into my palm. Everything felt so very, very good. As we stood sideways to the women, I knew that Caren could see the action well. I heard her gasp when Doug’s cock popped out.

Doug’s cock was always something at which to gasp. His cut cock measured a good ten inches when hard and was as fat as a beer can. I loosened his shorts and let them drop so Caren could view his immense ballsac which hung several inches, each testicle defined by the stretched skin. She gasped again.

Doug unzipped me and my drawers dropped. He wrapped his big hands around my shaft. His long fingers stroked and pulled at my more modest seven inches. Our dicks were poking each other’s bellies. Doug held both dicks and lightly squeezed them together while he ever so slowly sank to his knees. My fingers ran through his hair on the way down. When he reached the point where my penis was inches from his face, he leaned forward and buried his face into my crotch, smelling my musky balls. His long tongue wrapped around my sac. tickling me. My dick responded by bouncing off his nose.

“Shit!” Caren was getting hot. “This is sooo sensual.”

“Here, let me help you.” Lora pulled Caren’s shirt up and helped her out of it. She got on her knees and helped Caren slip out of her jeans. Caren now sat back and slowly exhaled as Lora looked up at the large wet spot on Caren’s red thong. She slowly inhaled the aroma. She stood and disrobed before curling up next to Lora. She, too, wore a damp red thong.

Doug was now slurping my cock, His hands played with my ass and my nuts. My knees went wobbly. “I have missed this, Ray.” He got up. “Wait a second…hold that thought…I want to rearrange the furniture!”

Right away, I understood what he was doing as he pulled a long plush lounge in front of the big couch and pointed for me to lie down. He wanted the women to see everything and so he created a little stage for them. I looked at Caren as she and Lora sat cuddled, Lora’s hand gently stroking her breast. “You good with this, my love?” I asked.

“Am I ever!” She spread her legs at me and I could see that her thong was more a sponge than a garment. “I’m going to cum just from watching.”

I lay back and waited for Doug to position himself at my head. I looked up to see his monster cock swing. I reached up and held his nuts. My tongue flicked and wiped the precum oozing from his piss hole before going back to his nuts. For a few minutes I teabagged him, my tongue under his scrotum as he dragged it across my face before gliding my tongue back under his long, fat shaft toward his glans. I traced the vein with the tip until I reached the large head. I licked around the head and especially into Cyclop’s Eye before putting it between my lips. It filled my moutch and stretched my cheeks. I looked over at the women. Caren’s eyes met mine. I could see how turned on she’d become as her body was flushed. It must have helped that Lora had one hand in Caren’s thong. Caren’s hand was in Lora’s thong. All fingers were moving.

I placed both hands on his thing and slowly began to pull the head deeper…then back off…then down again…and back until I had a few inches. My hands slowly twisted around the shaft, or more like trunk. I’d done this before with Doug. I knew what I could and could not do and I knew that I could not take it any deeper as my mouth was stretched and his banging against my tonsils was gagging me. He knew, too, as he slowly backed off, placed his knees on the lounge and positioned his mouth over my cock. He knew I could tend to him and accomodate him better this way. Lora’s small Asian body was now sitting in Caren’s lap, her face buried in Caren’s breasts. Caren smiled at me.

September 2018
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