26 Stoneybrook Lane — Love, sex and the gauntlet run

The News:

It was the summer of 2007 and I had just moved to New York, working as a Research Analyst for a large Brokerage firm on Wall Street, when I received a call from my Mom telling me that Eddy Noam, a kid I'd grown up with had been killed in Iraq. Eddy and I had been friends, well maybe more than just friends ... we had been good friends until careers and distances had tempered the bonds of our friendship.

I had heard that he had shipped out to Iraq as a member of the First Brigade with the 10th Mountain Division and was in the dangerous southern region of Al Basrah. There is always the potential risk of death that accompanies assignments like these but our cerebral mechanism precludes us from focusing on worst case scenarios and I was pretty certain we'd share a beer and some laughs when he returned. So, the news of his death came as a shock to me.

For a moment everything around me seemed to slow down. I felt my eyes defocusing, my mind racing and the bustle of the office taking place in slow motion - it was surreal. Eddy had volunteered; he didn't have to go to that godforsaken place but he wanted to do his share. He had been a doctor and now he was dead? Damn! I couldn't wrap my mind around that ... what a bloody waste!

Growing up Eddy and his sisters, Marybeth and Sandra, had played a major role in my life and my mind suddenly flooded with memories, a Pandora's Box of steamy incidents which I had kept securely locked away only to be accessed when I was alone. I found my thoughts wandering back to Stoneybrook Lane and the little town in the Great Plains bordering Canada ... a 'nowhere' place like every other small town in the US.

I spent the next few days trying to shake the images of Eddy and his sisters from invading my thoughts but wasn't having much success. I was being chased by pink elephants and blue mice ... they were everywhere. I was even dreaming about them - of pretty, blue-eyed Beth in her rainbow colored, cotton dress and Sandra; sexy, seductive Sandra, who had been the central figure in my juvenile wet dreams. I was stuck in a funk like some old forty five with a deep scratch playing the lines of the same song over and over. It was driving me nuts and I finally decided to do something about this. I had to get some sort of closure or run the risk of getting fired.

I took a couple of days off and headed out. It took me the better part of the day to get there and after a long drive from the airport I finally pulled up in front of the old house and got out of the rental. I stretched my legs and looked around and though the house hadn't changed a lot, there was an unmistakable air of rural decay. I looked across at 26 Stoneybrook Lane, the house which the Noams had called their home. The paint on the White Picket Fence was peeling and the once manicured lawn was un-kept and overrun with weeds. I scanned the neighboring houses and they were all in various stages of disrepair; a picture of decrepit gloom. This was what was left of the stomping grounds where Eddy and I had run the gauntlet to manhood.

I crossed the street and walked up the short, flagstone walkway and knocked on the door. The Star of David carved into its veneer was chipped and faded in places but was still quite visible. Mr. Noam was a Jew and though Mrs. Noam was Swedish, they were of Jewish faith. We had had our share of anti-Semites in the neighborhood and it hadn't been easy for Eddy or his sisters.

I knocked again and the door opened to a small crack and behind it was an old, white haired lady.

"Yes ...?" she asked her face etched with suspicion.

"Hi" I said, offering her a friendly smile, "I'm sorry to bother you, Ma'am ... I'm Jason Tabor and I grew up across the street." I turned and pointed to the small Ranch style house which had been home many years ago.

She looked unsure and watched me carefully trying to figure out what I was doing there.

"I used to know the family that lived here, Mr. and Mrs. Noam. Eddy, their son, was my best friend," I paused then continued, "he was killed last week in Iraq and I wanted to come back here, I'm not sure why but I'm hoping that coming back will help me put Eddy to rest ..." my voice trailed off.

I could see her going through the cognitive process, trying to make a quick decision about me but she still seemed unsure. I didn't expect her to understand, hers was an older generation and now ... now, the times were so different.

I needed to reassure her; I hadn't come all the way here just to turn and walk away.

"Here, Ma'am, take a look at this." I said quickly.

I had anticipated some skepticism and had come prepared. I pulled out the pictures I had with me and pushed them through the opening towards her. There were photographs of all of us as kids playing in the yard and though it was years ago, I was sure she would recognize the house.

"These are pictures of us; Eddy and me and his sister Beth and that one is Sandra, the elder sister," I added as she took them from me.

She studied them for a while and then opened the door and smiled broadly, reminding me of my grandmother.

"Come in, please come in ... you can never be too sure these days." She said, then turning she called out, "Peter? Peter, we have company."

She led me to the living room and asked, "What did you say your name was again?"

"Jason" I paused and then repeated "Jason Tabor ... we lived at 23 Stoneybrook. My dad was Michael Tabor and my Mom was Ann. You didn't know them by any chance, did you?"

"No, I'm afraid we didn't know too many people here," she said and then added, "I'm Martha and that's my husband, Peter."

It didn't surprise me that they didn't know my parents, we had moved out a lot earlier than Eddy's family. However, they had known the Noams and had liked them - in fact, they had met Beth who was at home when the house was sold to them.

"Do you want some coffee, Jason?" she asked.

"Yes, please, if it's not too much trouble, ma'am." I answered.

"Call me Martha or Mrs. Jacobs but I prefer Martha!" she added before disappearing into the kitchen.

They were curious and saddened about Eddy and we sat talking for a while reminiscing about the 'good old days'. In the background I could hear the faint strains of Beethoven or Bach, it was something classical and soothing - I couldn't be sure. I was a hardcore Rocker and rarely listened to anything else.

I could sense that they were warming up to me over the cup of much appreciated coffee and the homemade apple cake. The coffee hit the spot and I felt rejuvenated and wanted to get on with what I had come here to do.

"Do you mind if I looked around and went up into the attic?" I asked and then added, "I won't touch anything. As kids, Eddy and I spent a lot of time there."

They looked at each other and then the old man shrugged and said, "Sure, make yourself at home. No one has been up there in a while, in fact, I don't think we have ever been to the storage room."

"Let us know if you need anything and don't get your clothes dirty!" she added pointing to the stairway and then picked up the cups and headed for the kitchen.

*******

Memory Lane

The old man was right - it was pretty evident that no one had been up here in ages. There was the musty smell of mold and the room was covered in layers of dust. I turned on the light and walked over to the wall where Eddy had cut out the peepholes years ago and was surprised to find that they were still there. In fact, most of the room was exactly as I remembered it - the big wooden chest that Eddy and I used to sit on, the stacks of Time, Newsweek and Good Housekeeping magazines, plastic bags jammed full of clothing and bundles of old newspaper neatly tied together. No one from Eddy's family had bothered coming up here when they had moved out. They had left in a hurry so I understood how this place might have been overlooked.

I peered into the other side through the peephole almost expecting to see Sandra on her bed, stretched out languidly like some wild, golden cat, putting on a show for us. I recalled the very first time we saw her masturbating ... she was lying on her back with her fingers buried inside her swollen twat, her legs were spread wide with one knee raised while she squeezed and pulled on her pointed nipples. Her head was hanging over the edge of the bed with her flaxen hair cascading thickly to the floor - I will never forget her expression as she stared back at the eyes glimmering voyeuristically through the holes in the wall.

I had no idea what she was doing except that it was hypersexual and incredibly exciting and my cock was harder than I ever remembered it being. It was our coming of age; the summer of 1995, the summer of Sandra and Beth Noam.

The large attic had been divided into two rooms. On one side was Sandra's bedroom and the other was used as a storage space. It was here that Eddy and I spent our weekends spying on his sister. Sandra was three years older than Eddy and was a gorgeous girl. She was on the cheerleading team and to us she was as beautiful as any centerfold Playmate or Penthouse Pet. In many ways it was Sandra who opened that mysterious door to our sexual awakening; our transformation from boys to men and the loss of innocence during that fateful summer.

A while back, Eddy had discovered his father's secret collection of Penthouse magazines and when his parents were out, we would sneak them into the attic where we read the letters and ogled the beautiful nudes. Since he was a bit older than me he had taken point on the road to our sexual enlightenment and as part of this game, each of us had had to pick a letter from the Forum to read out loud. I noticed that Eddy always selected letters which involved incest, especially between brothers and sisters.

I would listen with curious attention, strangely titillated by the notion of sibling sex. I was an only child and though I found the topic to be slightly disconcerting I was also intrigued and excited by it.

"Have you done anything with Sandra?" I asked, after one particularly steamy letter about a girl who had seduced her younger brother.

"No ... well, not really. I've jacked off into her panties!" he replied, unashamed of his interest in his sister.

"No way! You're kidding! Her panties ...? How?" I stuttered.

"Mom still does Sandy's laundry. It's easy ... after I'm done I just throw them back into the wash!" he sounded proud and like it was nothing, like that's what brothers did with their sister's panties ... just a normal thing!

"And, how about Beth? You two do anything?" I persisted.

He hesitated then looked away before answering, "No, I've thought about it but Mom's always home. Hey, I did watch her undress ..."

At least he was honest and I wondered what Beth would look like without her clothes. She was very pretty with big blue eyes and full, sensual lips.

"Who would you like to fuck, Sandra or Beth?" he countered which caught me off guard.

I hesitated and then stammered, "Beth, I think."

Then unsure of what he wanted to hear, I added, "Wait, maybe Sandra ... no, um ... it would have to be Beth. Hey, they are both beautiful and any man would want to do them both!"

He looked at me with a strange expression and then laughed, "Yeah, you're right but how would you know, you're not a man!" he added and we laughed some more.

I felt uncomfortable talking to him about my fantasies involving his sisters and let the conversation die.

It was a week later, during our Penthouse ogling ritual that we heard the rustling sounds of tangled feet accompanied by soft laughter wafting from Sandra's bedroom sending us dashing to our respective peepholes. What I saw has remained indelibly imprinted on my brain.

Sandra was on her knees pulling down the jeans of a good looking young man. He had the look of a fifties Rocker, like a modern day James Dean in 'Rebel Without a Cause'. He was obviously Mediterranean, Italian or Greek, hairy and very muscular with thick, wavy black hair and bright blue eyes which contrasted starkly with his tanned skin. But it was his penis that was remarkable - it was short, about four inches long, and very thick with a tip which was shaped like a huge acorn flaring prominently out at the ridge. The root of his shaft sat on top of an enormous set of balls, the biggest I had seen, and when she began stroking him, the bloated dome resembled a red, puffed out, angry toad. He had his eyes scrunched tightly shut with his head thrown back and had grabbed a handful of Sandra's hair pulling her roughly into his crotch.

"Suck it, bitch, suck it hard," he commanded harshly.

"Mmmm ..." she murmured, moving submissively towards the throbbing, one-eyed monster.

She held the shaft guiding him towards her mouth and could barely get her fingers around its thickly veined girth. Her lips parted slightly and her tongue snaked out licking the tip of the engorged head while looking up at the man's face.

"Suck it up baby, take it all ... now ..." he whispered lewdly, his hips thrusting towards her.

Her mouth looked disproportionately small compared to the circumferential thickness of the pulsing, crimson tool and I was amazed by what she did next - she opened her mouth wide and very slowly forced her mouth down onto his cock until her nose was buried in his pubic hair. Then she eased herself back up to the tip, all the while sucking him as hard as she could, her cheeks caving in with the effort, until finally letting the head slip out of her mouth with a loud, wet slurping pop before repeating the process over again. Amazingly as she kept doing this, his tumescent cockhead kept swelling, getting ruddier and bigger. Her lips were stretched grotesquely but that didn't seem deter her enthusiasm while she licked and sucked the lucky bastard to the brink of carnal oblivion.

Now, both Eddy and I knew what a blowjob was but to see it performed in front of us in real life was too much for a couple of horny, teenagers. My hand went down to my cock and I rubbed myself through my jeans hypnotized by her sexy mouth stretching obscenely over the slimy, bloated head. She seemed to be enjoying the tantalizingly slow pace; her head bobbing deliberately making slurping sounds and whimpering gratefully while her fingers played with his balls and ran over the muscles of his abdomen. At one point she held the root of his throbbing stem and sucked on just the head while her other hand disappeared into her panties. I could see the outline of her fingers as she toyed with herself rubbing her clit vigorously. I was losing control as my cock throbbed painfully in my trousers.

I released my erection and turning away from Eddy I began to shag myself. I needn't have bothered; Eddy was too engrossed in his sister's oral skills to notice what I was doing - he was busy wanking away, pulling fervently on his slender pud. It didn't take long for us to reach the threshold of our orgasms and in quick succession we both blew our loads, grunting softly as we doused the attic wall with our sperm. I saw Sandra looking up at the peepholes, her eyes glittering brightly, while she worked diligently on the ravaged choad.

Soon after that she made him cum pulling her mouth off his cock while she continued to stroke the angry head, her slender fingers working the slimy, flared dome while she ran her palm expertly over and around the tip. She must have known exactly what she was doing because as she rubbed the coronal ridge of his agitated glans, he jerked, his body racked by uncoordinated spasms.

"Ohh, fuck, suck the head, baby, suck it, suck it... ohhhh, fuck ..."

But she didn't, instead she moved her head slightly to the side so we could get a good look and glancing up at the peepholes, she smiled. Then opening her mouth she stuck out her tongue and touched the underside of his cock. The touch was all it took; he grunted and moved back and began stroking his own cock aiming it at her mouth while hissing obscenities. Then he grabbed Sandra's head as his cock distended like blowfish and erupted.

"Oh, here it comes, baby, suck it all up ... suck it ... ohhhhh ..."

The first sticky rope of cum shot out like a missile, arcing in the air, splattering on her face just to the side of her mouth trailing down in a viscous stream of white lava and dribbling onto her chin. It was amazing.

"Give it to me, baby; give it all to me! I'll suck you dry, mmmm ..." she said reaching up and using both her hands to pump his shaft while looking up at him.

It was quite a sight; the guy was doubled over, his cock pumping again and again as ropes of viscous ejaculate shot out from the enraged tip raining thickly over her face and body. It seemed like he would never stop cumming but as he began softening, she leaned forward and sucked his cock back into her mouth, slowly draining the remnants of his juices and with an exaggerated flourish, she swirled her tongue around the shriveling head before taking him deep into her mouth again. She kept sucking him and incredibly I noticed his cock beginning to grow, stretching her mouth until she stood up and lay back on the bed.

"My turn, baby! Knock yourself out," she said smiling lewdly as she spread her legs, her neatly trimmed patch pointing to her cunt like a landing strip.

My eyes were locked on her silvery, wet slit; swollen and puffy, spreading like the petals of a rose as he knelt between her legs. My cock had regained its vigor and I began stroking it when we heard the front door open and Eddy's mother calling out, "Eddy? Eddy? Are you home? Marybeth? Is anyone home?"

"I'm coming, Mom," Eddy called back.

I saw Sandra and the man look up towards the partition and the peepholes but neither one moved. We quickly wiped the wall clean with tissue paper then sticking the magazines behind a loose plank in the wall, we headed down the stairwell.

*******

Oh, Little Sister

One afternoon a few weeks later, Eddy and I were in the backyard tossing the football around when we saw Sandra with her latest boyfriend. She stopped and waved to us before they headed for her room. There was a wooden stairwell which led up to the attic from the back and this gave Sandra a private entrance without having to go through the house. We looked at each other and smiled.

"Showtime!" Eddy said and made a mad dash into the house.

As we scrambled up the stairs we had to pass the landing on the first floor where Eddy and Beth had their bedrooms and just as we reached the door to the attic, we heard a soft voice asking, "What are you doing?"

It was Beth, her big blue eyes wide with curiosity.

She was a couple of years younger than us and was filling out nicely. I could see her boobs pushing out against the thin cotton of her dress.

I was about to say something catchy when Eddy interjected, "Nothing, Beth, nothing you would be interested in!"

And without waiting for an answer he slipped into the storage room. I hesitated then smiled at her before following him and shutting the door behind me.

"Come on!" he whispered, "The show's about to start."

We took our places by the peepholes and looked into Sandra's bedroom waiting in anticipation for the action to begin. I recognized her new beau; Adam Hollinger, a senior and popular kid who was on the football team. This was going to be interesting.

At first, they sat on the bed just chatting and we could sense that he was nervous and unsure. It was funny because he was trying to act cool but Sandra, on the other hand, was like a predacious spider, a Black Widow, spinning her web ready to pounce on her mate. The poor guy didn't have a chance.

After the initial banter, she moved over to him and pushed him back onto the pillows then swooping down she kissed him. After a few long, noisy kisses the seduction followed the set pattern she had developed with all her dates. She began fumbling with his belt and very soon she had his cock in her hands pumping him slowly. It seemed like she was in a trance, hypnotized by the throbbing male organ, licking her lips salaciously in anticipation while she gently stroked the rigid member. At this point, the relationship was exclusively with the man's cock - Adam needn't have even been there.

He was trying to fondle her breasts but his inexperience had him fumbling and at one point she pulled back and undid the buttons of her white cotton blouse. She wasn't wearing a bra and her tits spilled out like large, golden melons gleaming in the early afternoon light. Her areolae were dark brown and her nipples were hard and pointed. He leaned forward to try and suckle her but she was having none of it; she just moved back and pushed him down onto the mattress then without further delay she licked the tip of his long, thin stem and then sucked him into her mouth.

We were already stroking our cocks in time to her bobbing head, watching her fingers riding the base of his root jerking him off into her hungry mouth. Her cheeks would hollow inwards and we could see her swallowing the pre-ejaculatory juices she was drawing out from him.

"Oh, God! Sandy ... Oh, fuck ... don't stop," Adam sighed, his eyes were shut and he was holding the back of Sandra's head rocking his hips as she fellated him.

We were so caught up in the action that we didn't hear the door open but the next thing I saw was Beth standing next to Eddy. She was wearing a short, cotton smock with rainbow colored patterns on it. The front was slit open on top revealing glimpses of her breasts covered by her bra. I noticed that she had put on makeup with a little too much lipstick and that was strange because a few minutes earlier, she didn't have any on. But she still looked divine.

"What are you doing?" she asked her tone both curious and accusatory.

Our reactions would have been funny if it hadn't been so embarrassingly frightening. I was trying to stuff my hard-on back into my jeans but Eddy ... well he had turned towards his sister either intentionally or out of shock. Looking back, I am sure it was intentional but at the time that this occurred, I remember thinking he must be suffering from temporary insanity. His fingers were wrapped around his throbbing member and he continued to stroke his cock deliberately almost as though he hadn't been interrupted. The head of his penis was purple and bloated, pulsing salaciously in his hand.

For a while, Beth stood there looking at her brother, her lips parted and her gaze shifting from his face to his cock and back to his face until the unmistakable sounds of sex permeated the deafening silence.

"Yes, yes, fuck me harder you bastard, harder ...oh, God ..."

Sandra's unmistakable moans disrupted Beth's attention. She stepped around Eddy and leaning forward a bit she looked into the adjacent room.

Her expression said it all - it was a look of sheer amazement laced with the immediate gleam of lust which characterized that peculiar hormonal ability exclusive to teens.

"Oh, wow!" she whispered almost to herself as her cheeks flushed red with excitement.

She was glued to the peephole unable to take her eyes off of the frenzied action in the adjacent room. After a few moments, I saw her squeezing her thighs together tightly and then releasing it, squeezing it together and releasing it while pressing her crotch against the wall. I didn't realize then that she was attempting to stimulate the tingling sensations between her legs but just the sight of her being in the room with us and watching her sister get fucked added to the considerable tension of the moment.

I peered back through the peephole to see Sandra riding Adam's cock, her large breasts bouncing and jiggling to the cadence of her strokes. He was on his back driving up at her and it became obvious that he was getting close. He began thrusting faster, his motions uncoordinated and frantic as his face scrunched up in lewd contortions. He had grabbed a hold of her waist and was pulling her into him grunting like a wild man but just as he was about to climax, Sandra slid off his cock, slithering down his body like some omnivorous viper. Her timing was immaculate - his cock bounced weirdly off of his abdomen and just as she grabbed it, he uncorked his first jet of cum. It flew almost horizontally in a straight line and landed on his solar plexus before Sandra covered the bloated cockhead with her mouth sucking and swallowing as he continued to ejaculate. But even as she did this, she had pushed her hair away to the other side of her face so that we could get an unencumbered view of her oral artistry. I heard a rustling sound and turned towards it.

"Oh my! Wow ... oh!" was all Beth could say, her fingers pressing into her crotch, hips grinding against the wall.

Eddy had come up behind her and had pushed his sister's dress up above her cute, round ass and was trying to pull down her panties when she whirled and slapped his hands away from her. She wiggled her hips as she pulled her panties back up again.

"Stop that! What are you doing?" she asked but she was smiling and didn't seem angry.

Eddy's cock was still throbbing and bouncing in front of him.

"Not fair, Beth, you have to show us yours if you want to stay. Those are the rules," he said.

She was still staring at his cock and then guided by some feminine reflex, her tongue darted out wetting her lips. I knew then she wasn't going to leave. She looked over at me and then back at Eddy.

"Can I touch it?" she whispered.

He just nodded taking a step towards her. I remained in the shadows, my heart thudding loudly in my head and my mouth as dry as I could remember it being.

I recalled thinking, "She's not going to do this! She can't, she's his sister!"

But she did. Damn! This was like one of those Penthouse stories!

She reached out and tentatively held his cock in her fingers. When his penis lurched in response, she quickly withdrew her hand.

"Oh, sorry! I'm sorry, Eddy, did I hurt your muscle?" she asked softly.

"No!" he replied and grabbing her hand he placed it back on his hard-on and added, "That just means it likes what you are doing."

"Mmmm, it feels so hot and ... um, so hot and so hard!" she answered as she rubbed her fingers over the red, silky smooth helmet. Her grip around her brother's cock was tight and awkward as she continued to stroke him, "It feels nice. Am I doing it right?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"Here let me show you; do it like this." He replied taking her hand in his and jacking his shaft - up and down, up and down.

It was the about most exciting thing I had seen. I could see the clear drops of precum oozing from the tip as Eddy guided her fingers over the distended head. I couldn't believe I was watching Beth shag her brother and the effect it was having on me.

Eddy was unbuttoning her top and this time there was no resistance. Beth seemed preoccupied with the hard, fleshy rod pulsing in her hand, stroking it gently until she had to let go to step out from her dress. She was in her panties and bra and looked as lovely as a girl can when I finally came out towards them drawn like the proverbial moth to a flame.

"Come here, Jason, let me see ... let me see your cock." Beth said breathlessly and looking straight into my eyes.

She had taken control of our erotic charade and that was a first for us - until this had happened we just tolerated her.

She was holding my cock in her hand and I was almost ready to blow; the feeling was more exquisite than anything I had expected. My cock jumped as she began stroking it and a large drop or clear, sticky juice seeped onto her fingers ... man, this sure beat the heck out of jacking off!

"God! Yours is so big," she whispered her eyes wide and bright as she slowly pulled the foreskin back.

The plum shaped dome popped through the prepuce like the game, Whack the Monster, surprising her and making her giggle. Unlike Eddy, I wasn't circumcised and seeing the glans exposed from its protective sheath was certainly different. I wasn't really that big it was just that Eddy had a small cock and that was all she had to compare it to.

We stripped her naked and I noticed the swelling of the outer lips of her vagina. She had soft, almost downy, pubic hair like a sparse golden muff. I ran my finger along her slit and felt the sticky, viscous wetness, almost like soapy water, while her body pressed up against me. I remembered Eddy telling me about a woman's clit and how it was like a female penis ... it is strange how these things crop up in your mind just when you needed them most.

I began rubbing her clit making small circles with my fingers like I had seen Sandra doing to herself and felt Beth tremble. I was enjoying my newfound skills and wanted to explore more of her virgin territory so bending lower, I slowly pushed a finger into her. I was fascinated by her venal flower, the inner petals, the pinkness of her and the alluring aroma which was like an aphrodisiac. She was wet; so wet that my finger slipped in easily.

"Ohhh!" she gasped with a deep intake of her breath and her hand snaked down to cover mine securing me in place. Then I felt her hips undulating, fucking the invading digit inside her slit.

Eddy watched us for a while and then taking his sister's arm, he led her towards the large oak chest causing my finger to slip out of his sister's pussy.

"No! No, please ... don't stop!" she whimpered holding onto my arm.

"It's okay Beth, I'll do it again, just lie down." I said taking her by her other arm and holding her by her waist. She felt so warm and soft, I didn't want to let go of her.

Beth hesitated and then did as she was told. She lay down on her back with her legs dangling off the edge at the knees. She gave us a nervous smile, drawing her thighs together and then closed her eyes. She looked really sexy and vulnerable - there was a part of my mind screaming out that this was my first time and I should enjoy this experience; every moment of this incredible encounter with this beautiful creature. But I also knew that I was sharing my special moment with Eddy. And as selfish as this may sound, I hadn't considered Beth or what she might be feeling. I was too preoccupied with the wonderful sense of anticipation and what I wanted from her. Ever since I had watched Sandra fellate the James Dean lookalike, I had wanted to have my cock sucked. So I moved quickly over to Beth's face and pushed my cock against her lips.

At first, she kept her mouth shut while the tip of my cock spread the slick precum along her lips. I could see the lipstick smearing and then suddenly, she opened up and sucked me into the wet, hot sanctuary of her mouth. I felt her pallet graze the sensitive ridge of my cockhead making me twitch as she pressed the underside upwards with her tongue.

"Oh God, suck me baby, use your tongue ..." I said to her holding her by her hair, shocked at the sound of my own lewd verbalization.

I watched as her lips stretched over the turgid head and her tongue began swirling around the ridge of my Glans. It was sheer bliss.

And while I fucked her face, she was having her cunt licked out by her brother. He was lapping it like a kitten at a saucer of milk. I knew I couldn't last and all too quickly, I felt my cock flex and jump and then I climaxed pumping my sperm down her throat.

I just closed my eyes and let her suck away and was surprised that she didn't gag or stop. I kept on cumming and she kept sucking and swallowing, holding onto my stem while draining me of my juices. I had never cum as much and considering that mine was the first cock she had sucked, it was amazing that she drank it all except for the tiny trickle which had leaked out and had run down the side of her mouth onto her chin. I guess giving head ran in the family.

She looked seductively sexy writhing to the stimulation of her brother's tongue her face stained by the remnants of my cum and when I finally looked over at Eddy he was still licking his sister, pushing his fingers in and out of her swollen quim. He kept licking until she climaxed - it wasn't as spectacular as Sandra's orgasms but her hips undulated slightly and her back arched towards him as she pulled his head into her cunt rolling her hips about so that his face was covered with her pussy juices.

"Oh, God! Don't stop ... oh, yes, Eddy, please ... don't stop, please," she kept murmuring over and over.

And when she finally stopped thrashing and jerking, she held onto my hands which had been massaging her breasts, kneading and pinching her nipples. Her face was flushed and she was covered in a thin sheen of sweat but she looked so susceptibly lovely and content.

I was certain that Eddy was going to want her to do something more but he didn't - he stood up, pulled on his jeans and walked out of the attic leaving me alone with Beth. I didn't understand it and neither did Beth. She looked upset and frightened and I felt badly for her so I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. A soft gentle kiss but as soon as I did this, she opened her mouth and I felt the softness of her lips and her tongue snaking hesitantly into my mouth. I liked the feel of her and kissed her back, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. We necked for a while until she pulled away and stood up.

"You're nice, Jason, really nice." She said and tiptoeing up, she kissed me again.

I helped her get dressed and we walked down the stairs to the living room. I wasn't sure where Eddy had gone but suddenly I felt strangely uncomfortable. We had grown up together playing children's games and now that we had been intimate, our innocence had been breached.

It's difficult to explain but I was filled with conflicting emotions and though I felt closer to her, I needed to get away from her ... it was strange. I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and headed for the door and when I looked back, she was standing there staring at me with those huge blue eyes. I should have stayed with her but I didn't, I just left and after all these years, I still feel like a jerk for not being more sensitive.

*******

I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear the old man walk up the stairs to the landing even though the door was open but his gnarly, deep voice jarred me out of my sordid reverie.

"Hey? Hey Jason, are you staying for dinner? The Missus needs to know!" Peter said as I gathered my wits about me.

"Thanks, Peter, but you've been very kind. I don't want to impose. I'll leave and come back tomorrow." I replied stepping out so he could see me.

"You are not imposing and we could use the company. I'm sure she won't mind!" he said and turning slowly, he began descending down the stairwell.

He stopped and looking up, "Did you find anything interesting?" he asked.

"Just memories!" I replied smiling ruefully, "but worth more to me than anything!"

"Good," he added and then continued down the steps. I could hear him call out to his wife: "He's staying and he looks hungry!"

Over dinner we talked sports and politics, a lot more sports than politics. The Yankees were the old man's favorite team and we shared a fondness for the old Yankee greats. We discussed Mantle, Maris, DiMaggio, Munson and some others while Martha fussed over us. We had an animated discussion about some of the greatest players to play the game, especially Willie Mays who was my Dad's favorite, and before dinner was over we were the best of friends. It was getting late so I got up to leave; I needed to find a hotel and I didn't want to overstay my welcome.

"Is there a hotel close by?" I asked.

"There are a few in town but the one on Main Street is nice. It's a small Inn run by an English couple." Peter suggested.

"Why don't you just stay here for the night? We have plenty of room!" Martha asked.

"I couldn't do that. I don't want to put you out. You've been more than kind and I'll be back in the morning. I want to go over to the old school and check it out." I said.

But they were having none of it and insisted that I stay.

"Don't be silly, Jason, it's late and you can stay here. It had been a long time since we have had someone stay over." She said and the old man agreed. So I gave in and as luck would have it, I got Beth's old room.

I took a shower and turned on my laptop attempting to get some work done but I was too tired and as I lay back on the bed my mind flooded with memories - Beth, innocent beautiful Marybeth and the sensuously, complicated Sandra.

*******

Fantasy Babe

Beth and I had continued our relationship without Eddy. It was not like we were officially dating but we spent a lot of time together exploring each other's bodies. We used her bedroom or mine whenever our parents were out but occasionally we would make love in the attic - we did this only when Eddy was away participating with the debating or quiz teams.

Once while we were fucking like rabbits in heat, I sensed someone watching us; it was Sandra and I could see her eyes shining through the peepholes. The tables had now turned and we had come full circle. I don't think Beth knew that we were being watched but I remember feeling an exhibitionistic thrill knowing that Sandra was sharing in our pleasure.

My relationship with Beth didn't stop Eddy and me from spying on Sandra - that was still a part of our weekly routine. We'd watch Sandra do her thing until she changed colleges. Strangely enough we never discussed Beth or my relationship with her and Eddy never joined us again.

Then a year later several incidents changed our lives for good. Eddy and I began spending more time apart. He was into academia and I was not. I was really into sports. I had hit a growth spurt and now towered over him. I was six foot two in my socks and weighed close to two hundred pounds. I was the co-captain of our high school football team, a member of the wrestling team and also heavily into martial arts.

My father was an Ex-Marine and had started me off when I was just a kid but as I grew older I joined a Dojo run by a retired Special Forces vet. He taught us stuff that only Brazilian Jiu Jitsu experts knew. This was in the mid 90s before the popularity of the UFC when Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and mixed martial arts were part of an underground movement in the US.

It was Summer Break and Sandra was back from her college on the East Coast. She was now supposedly 'going steady' with one of her college friends but that didn't seem to affect her social life at home. She looked even more beautiful than I remembered having inherited her mother's paedomorphic beauty peculiar to Nordic women.

One evening while Eddy and I were chatting at the front gate, Sandra walked up looking as dazzling as ever but I could smell the alcohol on her and she was definitely a little tipsy. There was something that was not quite right between Sandra and her parents and I had no idea what that was. This was a family issue and neither Eddy nor Beth had ever brought it up.

"My, my, Jason! You've certainly grown!" she said smiling seductively.

I still felt like a kid when I was around her and recall blushing but she placed a reassuring hand on my arm and continued, "I hear you're the Captain of the football team now!"

"Co-captain," I corrected her.

"Whatever. The girls must be all over you!" she said, her compliment making me both happy and uncomfortable.

I had no idea what to say so I just stood there dumbfounded like some brainless jock staring into her face. She laughed and squeezed my arm. 

"Wait, don't tell me you are still fucking Beth!" she was looking right into my eyes and let out a throaty laugh and leaned towards me, stumbling a bit, her tits pressing against my side. I got a strong whiff of the brandy on her breath. My father liked a shot of cognac every now and then so I knew what it smelled like.

"Sandy, you're drunk! Cut it out," Eddy interjected, trying to intervene.

"Come on, we don't have any secrets do we? After all that we've been through together!" She stressed the 'all' and was now looking at Eddy, "Tell him, Eddy, tell your friend about our happy family." And then added, "Or maybe I will!"

Just then a car pulled up and she gave me a parting hug, clinging to me a bit longer than she needed to.

"Come and see me," she whispered in my ear and then she was gone.

I watched the taillights of the car fading down the road with my cock throbbing uncomfortably, excited by the pressure of her thighs against me. I was trying to place the man who was driving when Eddy said, "Don't say anything to Beth."

I looked at him and in the fading light his face was intense and pale, "Please, JT, don't say anything! I'll explain some other time."

He was the only one who called me by my initials.

"There's nothing to say and you don't have to explain. Don't worry," I replied then added, "It's getting late, you take care and I'll catch you later."

I walked away, my mind racing with thoughts about Sandra. There was a lot more to her story than meets the eye and I was really curious to know exactly what she had meant about the 'happy family'.

*******

Alpha Dog

A few weeks later I was heading home after an intense sparring session at the dojo. I was helping a couple of friends get ready for a local tournament and was riding the endorphin induced high when I saw Eddy walking home. I was surprised; Eddy had a car and rarely walked.

"What's up, man, where's the Blue Beast?" I asked, easily catching up to him and slapping him on his back. It always surprised me how small Eddy was. He couldn't have been more than five foot seven in his shoes.

"Hey JT ... shit! You scared the heck out of me, man!" he reacted, startled by my sudden appearance.

"Oh, the Beast is in the garage; the brakes are shot to hell!" he said and then added, "Haven't seen you in a while. How are you doing?"

"The same, you know, football, wrestling, kickboxing and of course, homework!" I said, then stopping in front of my house I continued, "I know you're busy but I could use some help with my math assignment. Mr. Harris is killing me. What do you say?"

Eddy had always been an A student and homework had been a breeze for him. He was one of the brightest kids in our school and had helped me whenever I needed some tutoring.

He laughed and said, "Sure, bring it over after -" but he was interrupted by the high beams and screeching tires of a red, pick-up truck.

It was a brand new Ford F150, which pulled up alongside us. The music was deafening with the staccato bass reverberating like crashing thunder. I recognized the vehicle immediately; it belonged to Bret "Butch" Mullins, a big, corn-fed Husker from Nebraska. I'd be hard pressed to adequately describe Butch except that I'm pretty certain that every school in the country has an obnoxious bully who might be something like him. But Bret Mullins was a doozy; a real piece of work! His moral compass was nonexistent and just one look at him and you knew he was trouble - TROUBLE in capitals!

He had transferred to our school a few years back amidst rumors of date rape, assault, breaking and entry and a slew of other charges but surprisingly he had never been convicted. His family owned several businesses including a huge bottling plant located on the outskirts of town. This facility was the largest employer in the area and his father had taken over as its President when they moved here. They had the right connections and moved in all the right circles. They lived in the best part of town in an ostentatious mansion totally incongruent even with the large houses in that exclusive neighborhood. So, not only was he a deviant but he had money and connections to back him up. In many ways, you could blame his family and the school system for indulging his madness.

He was older than most of the kids at school and his odd appearance gave him a strange "star" status. He was just a few shades off from being an Albino with stringy light blond hair which he kept long and pulled back in a ponytail. His opalescent skin was pale and hairless and gleamed like polished alabaster. His eyebrows were so light that you could hardly see them and his eyelashes were almost white which made his translucent, blue eyes weirdly striking.

He was about the same height as me but had me by about twenty pounds; twenty pounds of striated muscle. And he was very strong. I had watched him bench over five hundred pounds and for a schoolboy, that is just plain amazing even if he was crowding twenty. And though I suspected that he was juiced up on Anabolic Steroids, I could never find the telltale needle tracks and believe me, I had looked ... nothing in the glutes, thighs or deltoids so either he sticking the needle up his ass or I had to accept the fact that he was just a freak!

When we first met, it was instinctive; we didn't like each other but we coexisted. We made a really good tandem on Defense creating havoc with the blocking schemes of the opposing team but it was primarily because they had to double team Butch on almost every play or risk losing their Quarterback. I usually cleaned up the tackles he'd initiate so much so that he joked about my "sloppy seconds" ... but I didn't really care; off the field, he left me alone and that was good enough for me. He was the captain of the football team which only added to his twisted narcissistic personality and which fed off the groveling veneration of his obsequious clique he called his Posse. They went everywhere with him making life miserable for any kid unfortunate enough to stumble across them.

Then there were the girls. There as a certain type of girl who was attracted to the bad-boy image but Butch was more than just your ordinary bad-boy; he was in a class by himself and to say that he mistreated them would be a gross understatement. But in their eyes, the more he mistreated them the greater his desirability quotient. The whole thing was weird.

And now while he gunned his engine, he rolled down his window and I could see his eyes glimmering strangely in the diffused light.

"Hey, Fuckhead ... you left early!" he said looking at me, shouting over the reverberations of the music and the churning growl of the F150's engine.

"Yeah, so what?" I replied knowing that backing off meant 'weakness' as far as he was concerned; you had to step up to him or he'd ride you. He was like a wild animal always probing for signs of vulnerability.

I had left football practice early to get to the dojo and hadn't given it much thought.

He laughed and then turning his attention to Eddy, "Hey man, we spent some time with your sister and she's a beauty!" He sneered and continued, "She gives great head ... she's one horny bitch like all Jew-Bitches! Right, boys?"

Just then the rear cab door opened and one of the guys pushed her out. It was Sandra. She was a mess - her normally coiffed hair was disheveled and dirty and her dress was torn and stained. Her make-up was smeared and she was very drunk. She took a few hesitant steps and then stumbled, going down onto her knees, crouching over until her forehead touched the grass, her hair spilling around her like a shimmering, golden blanket. She was out of it. This was as bad as I had ever seen her.

Eddy ran over quickly and tried helping her up, holding her by her shoulders. His face was pale and his lips were quivering and I was certain he was about to cry.

"She sucked us all off, man, and then we fucked her every which way ... she loves to party! Eddy, your sister's a fuckin' nympho! She couldn't get enough!" and he laughed, a high pitched howl, like some demented maniac, "What a fuckin' whore ... be sure to tell her we'd love to do her again!"

Then he paused for a response but getting none, he said to me, "I'm going to fuck that girl of yours, fuckhead; I'll give that pretty bitch what she needs ... do her just like I did her sister!"

I had known from the very first day I met him that he would be my nemesis, my dragon to slay, and that one day I would have to take him on. The whole team, including the coaching staff, knew that it was going to happen. We had skirted around each other like two big dogs not willing to chance direct confrontation but we also knew that eventually one of us would had to give in. There had been a few close calls on the field but it had never culminated in an actual confrontation and the coaches had stepped in to prevent these incidents from escalating. But Karma, fate, destiny whatever it is you want to call it, has a way of bringing things around and within this convoluted merging of our paths was the moment of reckoning. Sooner or later it was going to happen. This was the very reason he transferred to our school. Everything he and I had taken part in, every experience and the decisions we made was to prepare us for our inevitable encounter.

After helping Sandra up, I walked over to his window, my heart pounding and my body hyped full of adrenalin.

"You're a fuckin' asshole, Mullins, you and the rest of these creeps... why don't you pussies step out? Come on, let's get it over with!" I snarled looking into the backseat.

I could feel them staring at me, their eyes gleaming in the darkness like zombies, but nobody made a move or said anything. They were waiting for their alpha dog to make the move. And for a moment I thought that maybe they hadn't heard me over the cacophony of the engine and music but when I looked back at Butch, he had a thin expressionless smile on his face, his head rocking to the driving beat of a song from Nirvana's "Nevermind". Then very deliberately he reached down and turned off the Radio and I could see his jaws flex as he ground his teeth.

It was suddenly quiet; the only sound now was the gentle purr of the F150.

There was an instant when I knew he was going to make a play, an intuitive prescience alerting me of imminent harm and sure enough, without warning he lunged, his huge, hand reaching out in a blur trying to grab me but I was quicker and was able to deflect his forearm harmlessly to the side.

"Don't do that asshole, unless you want to lose your fuckin' arm!" I hissed, "Step out here and we'll settle this once and for all." I was beyond caring. I wanted to end the uncertainty.

My reflexes had surprised him and after a moment he lowered his arm allowing it to dangle nonchalantly outside the window, trying to remain cool. The dragon tattooed on his bicep glittered oddly against his hypo-pigmented skin like a lizard scrambling up a pole. And though he had his buddies with him, I think he realized that he was at a disadvantage being in the truck.

"What a faggot! Scared the shit out of you didn't I?" he said and laughed.

Then I heard my father call, "Jason? Is everything okay?"

I looked over at the silhouette of my dad standing on our porch and called back, "Everything's fine, Dad, I'll be in soon."

"You better go home, boy, papa's calling!" then he paused before adding, "We'll settle this, fuckhead ... you can bet your ass on that! I'm going to crush your fuckin' skull, but not now, you'll never know when but it's going to happen. You're a fuckin' dead man!" his voice was soft, almost a whisper, sibilating and sinister like a viper's strike.

I heard his friends cackling like a bunch of rabid hyenas as he floored the accelerator and the truck disappeared in a cloud of smoke and dust.

*******

"We should call a doctor!" I said while Eddy was holding onto Sandra.

"No! ... I'll take care of her! Just help me get her into her room!" Eddy insisted.

"Are you sure Eddy? She looks bad, man!"

"Just help me, Jason ... please, man ..." he insisted.

I bent down and picked Sandra up and carried her up the stairway and into the apartment. She laid her head against my shoulder and I caught the distinctively sickening smell of semen and had to turn my head away.

Eddy went ahead and turned on the lights.

"I'll get the first aid kit ..." he said as he ran up the stairs.

It was the first time that I had been inside her bedroom and was surprised that it looked so different from this perspective. There was an air of subtle femininity and it was evident that she was fastidiously clean. Her things had been neatly organized on her dresser and side tables. The walls were adorned with beautiful pictures of tranquil blue oceans and green, plush mountains. I guess these were her refuge, places she escaped to from the tormenting demons of her life.

There was a huge Teddy Bear flopped on the rocking chair in the corner. It's funny how little I knew of her even though I had know her almost all my life ... I had never imagined her to be a "teddy bear" kind of girl.

On the side table by the bed stood several photo-frames of a man who looked a lot like Sandra and who could have easily passed for her brother; the resemblance was uncanny. As I was to later find out, her relationship with that man was linked to her pleonectic personality.

I put her down gently on the bed and she immediately turned onto her side in the fetal position. Her dense, flaxen hair was caked with dirt and cum and once again, the acrid smell of sex emanating from the wetly stained dress permeated the air. I could see the bruise marks on her neck and arms and my heart went out to her and I felt a hatred that I didn't know I possessed. I wanted blood ... justice; street justice.

Just as my mind was beginning to conjure up plans steeped in medieval torment, Eddy returned with some wet towels and began cleaning her up. He didn't look at me or say anything. His eyes were red and there were tears streaming slowly down his cheeks as he continued to work on his sister. Every now and then I'd hear him sniffle; this was killing me, watching them like this. Eddy was as close to a brother as I would ever have. I felt helpless and distraught, incapable of offering any real solace. Taking on Mullins and his goons would have been easier than this.

"It's going to be okay Eddy, I promise ..." I said not sure of how I could placate him but he remained silent.

He turned her over onto her back and began wiping down her face while I worked on her other arm and on the side of her neck. I wondered whether they had slipped her a "roofie" (the date rape drug of choice) or whether she was just drunk. However, unless she was going to press charges we would never know.

Finally after about thirty minutes or so of the sponge bath, Eddy began unbuttoning her dress.

"Maybe you should get Beth," I offered, strangely conflicted by his action.

"No! I told you I'll take care of her ... I don't want Beth to know." He said and then looking at me he added, "Just help me get her into the shower and then you can leave if you want to," and he started to pull down her dress.

She was limp like a rag-doll and it was an effort to get it off of her but we managed. At one point when I moved her legs she let out a soft groan. I kept apologizing to her even though I knew she couldn't really hear me but I knew she was hurting.

"Careful! Lift her gently." Eddy said and I could sense the anger and frustration in his voice.

She was now naked and even in this abused, bedraggled state of semi-conscientiousness she was so intrinsically beautiful. Her breasts were perfect; on the larger side with dark brown areolas and small pointed nipples. Her body tapered to a flat stomach which flared dramatically at her hips and with beautifully shaped legs from the years of cheerleading. I couldn't help thinking, 'This here was a hundred percent prime, succulent woman'.

There were several bruises on her body but what caught my attention was the puffy, rawness of her vulvo-vaginal area. Since she was shaved, except for the neatly trimmed landing strip above her Mons, the aggravated redness of her outer lips was pretty obvious. There was a trail of cum leaking out from her, running down her thighs in a milky, viscous stream; a testament to her recent sexual activity. I took the washcloth and soaping it up, I wiped the bruised area as gently as I could and saw her flinch. She held my wrist in a hapless gesture before resting her head against my shoulder allowing me to tend to her. She still hadn't fully recovered.

I wanted to leave, disturbed by the effect she was having on me but I knew that that Eddy wouldn't be able to hold her up and bathe her so I held her while he took the shower-head and ran the water over her limp body.

He had started with her hair and face slowly working his way down her body, cleaning off the residual scum and dirt until she was literally glowing from the warmth of the water. Then he did her feet working upwards to her calves and thighs until finally he arrived at her crotch. When he aimed the jet of water between her legs and into the crack of her vagina, she jerked and closed her thighs in a protective reflex while her eyes fluttered open for a second and then closed again.

"Ohhh ... don't ..." she whispered.

But he persisted, running the water up and down her slit until I noticed the lips of her vulva beginning to engorge and swell even more. I wasn't sure of his intentions but can only assume that he wanted to clean her, to get all the seminal remnants out from her but even as I tried to avert my eyes, I was captivated by his actions unable to look away. A cobra transfixed on the swaying flute as the snake charmer played on her sensual flower.

What transpired next bordered on the surreal, a sequence of events which has haunted me ever since. Eddy was under a hypnotic spell and totally oblivious of my presence. He leaned over her and with trembling fingers he spread her vaginal lips and then ran the water right up her tumid hole. The pulsing jet from the shower-massage drummed against her clit making her body twitch and her legs tremble. And then I heard her moan only it was more like a soft sigh and this time it was an undeniable carnal response of pleasure.

She was slowly recovering her senses and I could see her pupils, which had been dilated, focusing more clearly as she gazed at Eddy and then up at me. Her breathing had gotten heavy and deep as the surges of pleasure burst through the peripheral circuits of her nerves that affected her neuro-pulmonary response. I felt her grip my arms tightly as the constant pulsing of the water brought her ever closer to the edge.

"Ohhhh ... please, baby ... Oh, baby brother ... don't stop ..." she whispered.

I wasn't sure if I had heard her correctly but I really didn't care, I was caught up in the eroticism of the moment. I recall thinking that they may have been right and that she was indeed a nymphomaniac and couldn't get enough and felt disgusted by the fact that I was aroused by what was happening and was actually blaming her for this. But my mind was racked by the contradictory emotions of lust and empathy; wanting to help her but also wanting desperately to possess her. It was a struggle between our conditioned altruism and the inherent selfish needs of our primal carnality ... or maybe it was just Nature's procreative agenda.

My cock was blatantly hard and throbbing in my boxers while I held her tightly against me. I watched as her nipples puckered and hardened and had to fight the urge to caress her; to lean over and suckle her. I kept thinking that this was perverted; that we were both sick to take advantage of her vulnerability but I was too far gone. I let my fingers ride slowly upwards from under her breasts to her nipples and began rolling them between my thumb and forefinger and she responded almost immediately.
Her body jerked and she cried out softly, "Ohhh God ... don't stop ... please ... it feels so good!"

Eddy didn't look up. He was trapped by that incestuous monster or whatever it was that tied him to his sister and continued massaging her with the pulsing water until finally she climaxed, her body jerking uncontrollably as she crested the waves of her orgasm. She held onto my arms tightly, her hips bucking lewdly against the jets of water as the jolts of pleasure shot through her ravaged body separating her from her senses. It was agonizingly sensual and I remember wanting it to last forever.

We waited as she slowly descended from her orgasm before Eddy turned the water off. And as we dried her with towels, I could see the pellucid gleaming of her cunt, wet with the juices of her recent passion. This was several degrees closer than the voyeuristic games we played and I knew I needed to get away soon so wrapping her in a large towel I carried her to the bed and gently laid her down.

But she sat up and pointing to the dresser against the back wall asked, "Please get me a nightie, they are in the middle drawer ..."

I left them alone; walking out quietly as Eddy was helping her with a pink, see-through camisole. He was gently stroking her hair and kissing her and didn't even notice me leaving.

*******

As I walked across the street heading towards home, my mind was flooded with salacious thoughts; images of Sandra on her knees surrounded by Mullins and his posse jerking off onto her face, forcing her to suck their cocks. Knowing how sexual she was, I wasn't even sure if this was coerced or whether she had gone with them voluntarily. I was confused but deep down inside I knew that one way or the other, she had been taken advantage of and I knew that what had happened was wrong but still I couldn't help myself from being aroused. And, after what had just happened with Sandra in the shower, I was hyper-excited and needed to get some relief. I was tempted to call Beth - she was always up for some action but eventually decided against it. I'd just deal with 'five finger Mary'!

When I walked in, my father was in his favorite chair reading a book on World War II and greeted me with a smile.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, "there wasn't any trouble with the Mullins boy, was there?"

"No, Dad, everything's cool ... no trouble. Nothing I can't handle." I replied to which he took off his reading glasses and placed the book on his lap. He was very insightful and knew that there was more to this.

"Are you sure?" his voice revealing his concern.

"Yeah, I'm sure, Dad." I answered and then, "Dad, were you ever scared ... you know, like in a fight?" I blurted out. All my life, my father had been my hero and I couldn't imagine him being frightened of anyone or anything.

He thought for a moment before answering and that is one of the things I admired about him. He never treated any question as silly or childish irrespective of who was asking.

"To be scared is normal, son, and only the mentally impaired are unafraid. Our survival depends on the fight or flight reflex. But, there are times when you have to suppress and control your fear and deal with the danger facing you. Sometimes, it's the only way and it is what separates the men from the boys." He said, then as an afterthought he asked, "You are sure that you aren't in any trouble?"

"No trouble, Dad, but thanks. I'm going to hit the sack ... goodnight." I said smiling and headed for my bedroom. I always felt grounded after speaking with him.

"Goodnight, son, your mother's sleeping so keep the music down."

"Sure, Dad ... I'm going to bed ... I'm bushed. I was helping Jeff and Andy for the tournament."

And with that I headed for my room.

*******

Nexus

I felt a hand on my shoulder shaking me and a woman's voice filtering through my sleep-addled brain. She was trying to get me up.

"Wake up! Come on, get up, son, it's past eight. I've brought you some coffee."

It was Martha.

The aromatic smell of coffee filled the air and I pushed the covers aside, stretching. It had been a restless night filled with hypnagogic hallucinations, vivid pre-sleep thoughts which then blended seamlessly into dreams about Sandra, Beth and Eddy. I had tossed and turned until finally falling asleep a little after 1:00 am.

Martha drew back the curtains and the sunlight flooded in making me squint.

She looked over at me with a knowing smile and said, "I hope you slept well and the ghosts from your past didn't keep you up ..." then added, "Breakfast will be in twenty minutes. Don't be late!"

After a simple breakfast of ham and eggs with Martha and Peter, I promised to be back to take them for dinner and then I left heading for school. I wanted to go back to the scene of the crime, the place where the final chapter involving Butch Mullins had ended.

*******

The Scarecrow

The High School looked about the same and I was filled with a sense of déjà vu. The main office buildings had undergone some minor changes but offered the same overbearing appearance I knew so well. I parked the car and decided to stroll by the gym to the grassy knoll behind the football field where I had finally faced my demons. I noticed the students scurrying to their classes, laughing and chatting and the memories came rushing back.

The days following the incident I went to school prepared for the worst, ready to take Butch and his buddies on. I knew exactly what needed to be done and was actually looking forward to settling this once and for all. I was doing this not just for Eddy and Sandra but also for Beth. She was blossoming into one of the prettiest girls in school and on more than one occasion I had caught Butch leering at her and whispering conspiratorially to his friends and gauging from their reaction, none of it was good especially after what had happened to Sandra.

Then just when things seemed to be settling back to their routine, it happened. I hadn't see Mullins or his Posse all morning and was a bit curious since they were like bad habits, cropping up when you least expected them and it was always the same; they would spout the usual "You're a dead man ..." spiel along with some choice adjectives but I was getting used to it and after a while it had no effect on me. In fact my lack of response was driving them up a wall but except for Butch, the others wanted no part of me.

And just as I was thinking that maybe this wasn't destined to happen, I ran into Henry, a teammate who played defensive back, who stopped and said, "Hey, man, watch yourself ... Butch has been talkin' it up, mouthin' off about killin' you!"

"Thanks ... do you know where he is?" I asked.

"Yeah, they are by the benches in the back and there's a pretty good crowd ... he's got Ray and the other punks with him. You be careful, Jason."

"Thanks bud." I replied and headed for the Gym.

As I strolled by the football field, I was filled with a sense of pre-destiny; a feeling that this time it would be settled. I was right. They were by the benches near the field and as I approached them, Butch turned around smiling like he had the fight already won. He was in sleeveless weightlifting T-Shirt, leaning against the metal fence, his pale skin glowing like some Gothic apparition while he flexed his muscles and rolled his head loosening up the muscles in his neck.

I found the posturing to be amusing. I knew he was nervous ... hey, I was nervous but it was a good "nervous" and there was a certain calm deep inside me that my father had spoken about and his words about courage kept repeating itself in my mind like a mantra reinforcing my belief in everything that was just and good.

This is where I wish that I could have written of an epic struggle where I had to reach deep inside myself to discover the well of hidden resolve to outlast my antagonist but like most fights, the manner in which it played out was the quintessential anticlimax. After his first maneuver failed he was lost. He lacked the skills to deal with the strikes and holds being thrown at him. What it proved unequivocally was that there was no way for a barroom brawler to take on a real martial artist. No way!

It was over quickly but not without serious repercussions for him. He ended up with a busted elbow as a result of an armbar and then while he sniveled like a crybaby, I choked him out ... 'out' like in unconscious; his body twitching in the aftermath of Ischemia. The myth had been exposed and the scary vampire was nothing but a hollow scarecrow!

Most of the kids who were watching were thrilled except for his Posse - they were shocked and true to their nature, they stood back and did nothing. A bunch of gutless pussies! My father was right; cowards do die a thousand deaths!

*******

The Soul of a Soldier

I had walked home with Beth that day. She was literally beaming and I still remember the lovemaking session we shared that evening ... we had used her bedroom and hours later when we emerged, Eddy was there in the living room with a big grin on his face!

"How long have you been here, sicko?" I asked.

"Beth, you made more noise than Mullins did ... I thought he was killing you!" he said and laughed then added, "Let's go get some pizza!"

I could see Beth blushing but she laughed and hit her brother on his arm.

"You are sick! Let's see if Sandra wants to come too!" Beth said.

The four of us went to the local pizza parlor. Sandra didn't say much but she seemed to be getting better and when Eddy told her about what had happened to Butch, she gave me a brilliant smile and reaching across the table, she held my hand briefly. That was enough for me. For the rest of the evening she leaned her head against Eddy's shoulder holding onto to his arm. I had never seen Eddy happier.

Word of the fight had spread and people came over to chat and offer their words of appreciation. We ended up not having to pay for dinner - some grateful patron paid for it without us knowing. It was hard to believe how many people were victims of that freak. That was one of the best evenings I could remember.

And that was the last time we were all together and that's how I'd like to remember Eddy; laughing over a slice of Pizza with the love of his life holding onto him.

I heard some girls giggling and it startled me back to reality and I stared at the steel fence and could swear I saw Eddy leaning against it with a big smile on his face ... good bye, dear friend, I'll miss you more than you'll know.

*****

25th Class Reunion — Son helps mom get in shape for her high school reunion

I have to be honest, when I first received the, 'hold the date' notice for my twenty fifth high school reunion, I deleted the e-mail almost instantly. As a forty three year old mother and career woman, I had left my school days far behind me. My family and I lived just over one hundred miles away from the town in which I grew up and I rarely went back to visit, particularly since my parents retired to Florida a few years earlier. If fact, I had not even thought of my alma mater in ages.

I know a lot of people look back on that time of their life with misty eyed nostalgia, but my high school years were far from my greatest. In my teens, I was a complete nerd, close to the top of my class and a flutist in the school's marching band. On top of that I was on the chunky side, with braces and thick glasses. Not exactly a recipe for stardom in your average American high school.

Just a few days after receiving the e-mail, during a restless night's sleep, I had a dream about my high school crush, Billy Hanlon. He grew up a couple blocks away from our house, and I'd see him on occasion strolling through the neighborhood with his group of friends in tow. Billy was tall and lean, with a thick head of blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He was the star pitcher on our baseball team, and rumor had it he was bound for glory in the major leagues until he injured his arm. I blushed every time he passed by, but I doubt he noticed as I'm sure he didn't even know I existed.

When I awoke the next morning, my mind ran back to thoughts of Billy. I couldn't help but wonder what he looked like and what he was doing after all these years, and a chill ran down my spine. It was Saturday and I wasn't working, so after getting breakfast for my husband and son, I made an excuse to go to the basement so I could dig out my high school yearbook.

It took me a while to locate as it had been boxed up with other keepsakes for years, but when I found it I slowly poured over every page. I barely recognized many of the faces anymore, but a few really stood out. Billy looked the same as I remembered him, complete with scruffy hair and high cheekbones. He appeared very svelte in his Harrison High baseball uniform, and I was saddened to think that things hadn't worked out for him.

I felt a pang of guilt at not keeping in touch with my two best friends from school when I saw their pictures. Michelle and Janet were my partners in crime in the old days, and I was curious if they would be attending the reunion. For some reason, I was left longing to reconnect with my past for the first time in ages.

Over the next week, my thoughts kept wandering back to the reunion. I couldn't help but wonder who would be there and what they might look like after all this time. With each passing day, my curiosity grew to the point that I was actually interested in attending. I was pretty sure I wouldn't, mind you, but the thought no longer sickened me.

Candidly, I had no reason to be particularly anxious over seeing old schoolmates. After graduating from Harrison, I attended a great private college where I earned my degree, before starting a family and subsequently embarking on a successful career. I lost the thick glasses I wore in school in favor of contact lenses, and of course my braces came off as well. All in all things were okay; I'm sure I was doing a lot better than most of my former classmates anyway.

Not that things were perfect in my life mind you. My job required me to put in long hours, so I was away from my home more than I would have cared for. In fact, I would have loved to find something less stressful, but given the fact that I made far more money than my husband and had the better health insurance, my career was important to the family coffers.

My husband, Don, was a decent guy, but not the most motivated man in the world. He held the same position at work for years, and had been passed over for promotion on numerous occasions. He constantly whined about how he got screwed in one way or another, and as a result had grown quite bitter. But I knew the truth, that he was simply lazy. So, I was left to pick up the slack, both at work and at home.

Over the years, I think it would be fair to say that Don and I had very simply grown apart. When we were young, it was easy to overlook our differences as everything was new to us since we were each the other's first real relationship. We rarely fought; we just went about our business largely on our own. Of course we still slept in the same bed, but it had been ages since we had been intimate.

The one true bright spot in my life was our only child, my loving son, Tyler. He somehow ended up with all of the best qualities from both sides of our family, plus others I had not ever seen in any of our relatives. Tyler had my curious mind and drive, with his dad's easy nature. He was also as sweet and compassionate as anyone I had ever met, and friends seemed to gravitate to him like bees to honey. He lived at the house during the summer while attending university about an hour away from home, working towards a degree in engineering.

At dinner one evening, I mentioned the reunion just to gauge Don's interest. He looked at me like I had three heads and asked, "You're not seriously considering going, are you? I thought you hated high school." I replied that I didn't really want to go, but was simply curious about what my friends were up to these days.

Tyler on the other hand was incredibly supportive and encouraged me to attend. "You should go, Mom. I'm sure everyone would love to see you," he said enthusiastically, which drew a sarcastic chuckle from my husband.

Of course Tyler had no idea that his mom was one of the nameless masses that wandered the halls of Harrison High, but how could he? My son always seemed to admire me; in fact, at times when he was younger I think he may have even had a crush on me. For years he was like my little shadow, following me around the house everywhere I went. I thought it was cute, but he eventually outgrew it as he matured into the handsome young man is today.

After Don's reaction, I pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I was not going to attend the reunion. It didn't bother me that much as I was a good forty pounds overweight, and didn't want my old classmates to see me at less than my best. I wasn't exactly a prom queen in high school and I didn't want to further reinforce old images my schoolmates may have long held. Yet deep down a desire to go was building daily. If not for my weight, I'm sure I would have already reserved tickets.

For whatever reason, Tyler broached the subject with me constantly, asking if I was going. I told him I wasn't really interested, but it was obvious he could see the truth behind my lies. He kept pressing me with one simple question, "Why?"

I gave excuse after excuse, but none appeared to hold up under Tyler's scrutiny. Finally, somewhat exasperated, I told him the truth, that I was self-conscious about my size and that I was never particularly popular in school anyway. I hated to say it, but I let him know I was sure I wouldn't be missed. I was disappointed in myself for sharing that with him and possibly shattering his illusions, but I didn't know what else to say.

Tyler looked genuinely stunned and stated incredulously, "But Mom, you're adorable." He then added, "I bet you look better than any of the other women that'll be there."

I couldn't help but sigh as his words sank in because I knew he meant them completely. "Thank you honey, that was sweet," I replied softly as I gazed into his handsome face, and then added, "But I'm still not going." Tyler just shook his head and walked away. How could a twenty one year old kid understand how neurotic a woman my age can be when it came to her self-image?

I did my best to forget about the reunion for a few days until Tyler approached me one evening. I could tell something was on his mind by the look on his face, before he stated, "You know, I've been thinking, Mom."

I was curious about what was to follow, but was sure it had something to do with the reunion. I replied, "About?"

"Well, you know I have that gym set up in the basement, right?" he asked hesitantly. "I was thinking I could put you on an exercise program to lose a pound or two before your party."

He was of course being his usual sweet self by saying a, "pound or two," but I loved him for it. "Honey, I appreciate it, I really do, but I'm not going."

It was clear he had been expecting just such a response when he said, "Well, we could work out together anyway, you know, to each get in better shape. What do you think?"

I almost laughed in his face hearing him talk about getting in better shape. Tyler was just over six feet tall, and weighed close to one hundred and eighty pounds of solid muscle. He was not overly bulky, but completely firm all over. He had a body most men would die to have and most women would love to hold.

My work schedule was still hectic, but the idea of losing a few pounds and possibly attending the reunion held great appeal to me. Between my job and Tyler's school, we rarely got to spend any quality time together, so the idea of further bonding with him was wonderful. Before my mind could formulate possible excuses, I heard myself saying, "Okay, I'm in."

"Awesome, Mom," he responded with a bright smile, "We can start this weekend!"

When Don learned that Tyler and I were going to be working out together, he chuckled, "You're kidding me, right Kathy? Bet that lasts two weeks, max." I hadn't really expected anything different, but would it have killed him to be supportive for a change? If anyone in the house needed exercise it was him, the lard ass.

Saturday afternoon Tyler and I met in the basement to begin our training. I felt really self-conscious, so I dressed in a baggy pair of sweat pants and an old tee shirt. I was impressed by how serious Tyler was taking things as he explained the program he had designed for me. However, I was mortified when he asked me to step on a scale, and even more so when he produced a tape from my sewing kit to take my measurements. I did my best to talk him out of it, but he was insistent that watching the weight and inches fall off would be incredibly motivating.

Left with no good argument against it, I finally relented, and he set about taking my measurements. I don't think I'd ever been as embarrassed as when my son dropped to his knees and wrapped the tape around my thigh. He didn't tell me the reading, and candidly I didn't want to know, he just wrote it down in a notebook.

Next he moved to my hips, then my abdomen, each time being as professional as possible. Finally he stood and blushed a bit as he moved the tape around my chest. I felt a tingle run down my spine as the back of his fingers scraped across my breast momentarily. I was a bit ashamed at my reaction, but it had been ages since I'd been touched in an intimate way, I could hardly be blamed, or so I told myself.

After he finished jotting down the figures, Tyler announced, "We'll do this once a week and I'll put it up on a chart so we can monitor your progress as we go."

There was no way on earth I wanted my numbers posted on the wall for anyone to see, particularly my husband, so I told Tyler that was just not going to happen. In addition, I explained that I was not going to subject myself to the scale every week, and offered a monthly compromise. Thankfully he understood, and agreed to keep my measurements in his notebook. The reunion was still six months away, so I just hoped the temporary humiliation would somehow all be worth it in the long run.

Tyler had a padded mat on the floor and I was soon upon it as he put me through a long stretching regimen. I was more than a tad embarrassed at some of the positions he placed me in, bending over this way or that as every other stretch seemed to have either my butt or my breasts thrust outward. I was glad I wasn't wearing a skimpy leotard, not that I even owned one, of course.

After a good fifteen minutes on the mat, I was instructed to get on the exercise bike to further warm up my muscles and get the blood flowing. Tyler said ten minutes would be a good start, so I began peddling away. After only three minutes or so I was sweating and feeling short of breath, but fought to make it to the finish.

I assumed we'd take a break after my time on the bike, but Tyler had other things in mind. I was sweating profusely when he started me on some light weight lifting. He showed me proper technique, which most often involved him touching or holding various parts of my body as he did so. I knew he was just being helpful, but at times his fingers strayed close to some of my more delicate areas, which once again made me shiver.

At times I found myself watching Tyler intently as we took turns lifting weights. He appeared so powerful as he pumped the bar above his head, sweat soaking his brow. After a while he pulled off his tee shirt and worked bare-chested. His abs were cut and his chest looked like that of a body builder, so much different than my droopy, sagging husband.

After another half hour or so, Tyler released me to the most enjoyable shower I had ever experienced. As I stood under the hot water, I couldn't get him out of my mind. His hands had been where nobody else's had in so long, I felt guilty that I actually found it somewhat titillating. As I soaped my body, I discovered that my nipples were hard and my vagina was aroused. I quickly put the soap down and rinsed off, forcing myself to focus on things other than my son.

The next day my body was sore all over and I could barely walk, but mentally I felt wonderful. I was proud that I had taken the first step towards the new me and was determined to prove Don wrong in the process. I was still tender at work on Monday, but didn't let on as I wanted to keep what I was doing a secret in the event the pounds were more difficult to shed than I'd hoped.

Tyler gave me another day to rest, but on Wednesday evening we were back in the basement, where he put me through my paces once more. Everything seemed to be a bit harder than on the weekend as I think my muscles were still tired, but I fought through the pain and did my best. Tyler kept offering me words of encouragement which made things easier than they otherwise might have been.

Since I had perspired so heavily during our last session, I decided to do away with the bulky sweatpants in favor of a pair of athletic shorts. I'm not sure if it was intentional or not, but Tyler's hands seemed to find my bare legs on numerous occasions. During my stretching he pointed out some of the muscles I was working in my legs, and lightly traced a finger up and down them for effect. My skin tingled at his gentle touch, yet I did my best to remain calm.

Later, when I was on the bench doing some light weight work, I gazed downward and noticed my nipples were slightly engorged and protruding through my sweat-soaked bra and tee shirt. My chest was heaving due to my exertion, which in my mind made them all the more prominent. I looked up and found Tyler's eyes were cast that way, desire clearly written across his handsome face. For some reason, rather than feeling embarrassed or outraged by his overt staring, I strangely became somewhat excited. I could not recall the last time a man looked at me that way, and as crazy as it may sound, I enjoyed the feeling.

Tyler took his turn upon the weight bench after me, and my eyes wandered down his chiseled torso to his midsection. A sizeable lump pressed up the fabric of his tight athletic shorts and I couldn't help but ponder just how large he was down there. I had only been intimate with one man in my entire life, and wondered just how varied their equipment might be. Things like that were not discussed in my small circle of conservative girlfriends, so my mind raced as I averted my eyes. I had never even seen a Playgirl, for heaven's sake, and probably had less experience than most girls half my age these days.

When we finished the workout, I gave Tyler a hug and headed off to the shower. I let the warm water cascade down my body for a long time, feeling some relief in my aching muscles. I chided myself for feeling aroused in my son's presence, but I just chocked it up to the frustration in my marriage and lack of male attention.

After my shower I slipped into a comfy old pair of pajamas and headed to the living room to watch some TV before bed. Tyler was there already bathed and viewing his favorite program from the couch. When I approached, he smiled at me and patted the sofa to offer me a spot right alongside of him, which I happily accepted. Don was upstairs on the computer as usual, so it was just the two of us watching the tube.

Tyler asked me how I was feeling, and I admitted that I was more than a bit sore all over. I was surprised when he offered me a massage, and I once again felt a shiver run through my body at the thought of being touched in an intimate way. The idea was certainly appealing, so I only made a halfhearted attempt to decline, but he insisted. On his instructions, I sprawled forward across the cushions and tried to make myself comfortable.

Moments later, I felt his hands lightly caressing my shoulders, and then slowly work down across my back. I have no idea where he learned his technique, but the massage was heavenly. Tyler must have known how sore I was because he never applied too much pressure, just gently but steadily rubbed my aches away.

Very softly, he asked, "Feel okay, Mom?"

"Wonderful," I whimpered honestly.

Tyler focused most of his attention on my back and shoulders, but occasionally dropped down to rub my calves and feet as well. At times his fingers strayed close to my breasts when he was caressing my sides, but he always kept things professional. After such a hard workout, I felt like I was slowly melting into the sofa and I loved every second of it.

The massage ended long after Tyler's program was over, and I felt guilty that he had probably missed the entire thing while he focused his attention upon me. My muscles were very tired, but the rubdown stimulated me in a way for which I was unprepared. Blood flowed to areas of my body it had not in ages, and naughty thoughts entered my head while he held me just before we called it a night.

When I climbed under the sheets that evening Don was already snoring loudly. He had no idea a horny woman was so close by, and I certainly was not going to wake him. I had never been particularly into masturbation, but at that moment I was feeling the need for some self-pleasure and slipped a hand down into my PJ's. With my husband sleeping just inches away, I fondled my sex in a slow, rhythmic fashion. Only three or four minutes later, I came with a shudder, biting my lip to remain silent.

The next three weeks of our workouts played out similarly to the first. Tyler watched my every move like a hawk and continued the positive reinforcement when he thought my energy was waning. At other times he gave me a bit of tough love when I needed a kick in the pants, which I greatly appreciated.

Don would usually grunt aloud or utter some other negative sound as Tyler and I made our way downstairs, which I think only heightened the kinship between my son and I. It was almost as if it was us against him, which for me proved highly motivating.

I know it may sound crazy coming from a woman of my age, but somehow I almost felt like a teen again. After years of being ignored, it was wonderful to have someone pay so much attention to me. It didn't hurt that he was handsome, and actually seemed as interested in my mind as my physical wellbeing. Tyler was effusive in his compliments towards me, and I soaked them all up like a sponge, whether he was exaggerating or not.

When I entered the basement on the next Saturday morning, it marked the first month of our workouts together. After successfully avoiding them for a month, Tyler had both the scale and tape out, and I reluctantly subjected myself to each. I had actually grown accustomed to feeling Tyler's hands on my body as I tried to master the various stretches and exercises, so the tape seemed not nearly as invasive as it had the first time.

I was glad that I had proven Don wrong by keeping up the exercise routine, but even happier with the results. I had lost more pounds and inches than I had expected, which simply thrilled me. As my son had predicted, after reviewing the numbers, I was more fired up to work out than ever before.

"See Mom, I told you we'd made progress," Tyler beamed, and I could not contain my own smile.

I felt tremendously grateful that he had given so much of his time to assist me, so I replied honestly, "It's all because of you, sweetie." I moved towards him and we fell into a tight embrace. We held one another for far longer than usual, before we awkwardly broke apart to set about our work.

I didn't own any real workout clothes, so on lunch break the next Monday I stepped into an athletic apparel shop and purchased a few items. After browsing the aisles for a while, I picked up two new pairs of shorts and a couple lightweight tops. They were actually quite basic, but compared to the rags I owned, they were just a tad sexy.

It probably sounds bad, but a small part of me wanted to dress that way for Tyler, to show how our hard work had paid off. Although he tried to be subtle, over the subsequent days I caught him looking me over more than once, and it didn't bother me one bit. In fact, it was somewhat thrilling.

I can honestly say the workouts became the highlight of my day. Tyler and I chatted while we exercised, and I was grateful to reconnect with my son in such a special way. After our sessions, we often found excuses to stay together and talk before heading back to the reality that was life upstairs. He became my confidant, and while I didn't share much of the issues I had with Don, I'm sure he guessed more than he let on.

On clear evenings, we often took a long stroll around the neighborhood to cool down after our intense workouts. One night while we were trekking across a nearby field, to my surprise, Tyler grasped my palm inside of his own. As momentarily stunned as I was, I quickly grew comfortable with our shared intimacy. Feelings of true love were bubbling up inside me I'm not sure I had ever experienced before.

We silently walked hand in hand for a while until we reached the row of houses once more. Tyler seemed reluctant to release my hand, but we broke apart and began walking homeward. After that first evening holding hands, we did it more times than not, regardless of where we were, and each time I felt giddy.

In my alone time, I began feeling very guilty. As much as I loved our special time together, I was sure I was keeping Tyler away from the active summer life of a normal college student. A handsome twenty one year old male should be out meeting willing young ladies, not spending so much time with his mom. I felt the need to re-establish our normal mother-son dynamic, as much as it hurt.

Over the next few days, I purposely kept a bit of distance between Tyler and myself when we were alone. Part of me wanted to sit down with him and explain myself, but how could I? I mean, what would I say, "Sorry, sweetie, but I think I'm falling in love with you?" That was something he just didn't need to know and I would have to carry with me to my grave.

For his part, Tyler clearly knew something was amiss, but thankfully didn't push me or ask too many questions. After less than a week, I missed our newfound intimate moments so much; I couldn't push him away any longer. He had become like a drug to me and I just had to have more. On our next walk I gladly held my son's hand and didn't care who saw us.

One evening Tyler came home from work with a decided limp, and I asked him what was wrong.

"Just a slight muscle pull in my left thigh, I think," he responded casually, pretending everything was just fine.

Don of course was his usual compassionate self and said, "Suck it up, you big baby."

I was irate with my husband, but somehow managed to keep my frustrations inside without lashing out. After years of marriage, I guess I probably expected a comment of that nature from him. My mind quickly went back to my son. Given all the attention Tyler had lavished upon me, I knew I wanted to return the favor. Just as soon as I had finished cleaning up after dinner, I went to the bathroom and poured a hot bubble bath, then demanded he take a hot soak.

I let him soak for a few minutes, and then stood nervously at the bathroom door and knocked softly. "May I come in?"

"Sure Mom," he responded, and I slowly entered the steamy little room.

Tyler was completely covered in suds, so I couldn't see anything below his chest. "Don't worry about your father," I stated softly as I sat down on the cold porcelain tub beside him. "He has no idea how hard you work."

I learned Tyler was far more in tune to the family dynamic than I had thought, when he responded, "He doesn't know what hard work is, Mom." With that, he moved his hand from the side of the tub and placed it upon my knee just below the hem of my skirt. After a brief pause, he gently stroked my soft skin without uttering another word while he stared directly into my eyes.

My mind raced in tune with my pounding pulse. As much as I loved being there with him and sharing our little stolen moments, I had to get away. I turned to look at him just before I left the bathroom and felt a sudden weakness. In spite of myself, I softly whispered, "I'll massage your thigh later tonight, umm, if you'd like." I felt like a silly schoolgirl, throwing myself out there for a boy with no safety net to catch me. It was way beyond anything I'd ever even imagined with Billy Hanlon.

As I stood fidgeting at the door, Tyler thankfully replied, "I'd really like that."

Air suddenly returned to my chest as I closed the door and made my way towards the stairs. Don was on the computer in the study once more, and the last thing I wanted was to be upstairs near him. It felt much safer to be a floor away from him, afraid he might be able to see how naughty I was feeling inside.

I found myself pacing in the kitchen, anxiously awaiting Tyler's arrival. After what seemed like ages, I heard the pounding of feet upon the hardwood floors as someone approached from above. With baited breath, I looked towards the door, and was relieved when my son sauntered around the corner.

We both looked upon one another with loving eyes, before I was forced to glace away when I felt warmth in my cheeks. Desperate to break the awkward silence, I said softly, "Why don't you go lay on the couch."

With a smile he turned and hobbled his way towards the living room. I wanted to remain detached, but how could I seeing my son limping the way he was? I rushed to his side and fluffed a pillow for him, before he settled face-down on the sofa.

I nestled my bottom onto a tiny piece of open space next to his abdomen, and then moved my hands to his shoulders to commence my massage. I took my time and lavished attention on his back, and at times his legs too. His skin was warm and soft and I enjoyed pampering him after everything he had done for me. It was wonderful to touch a firm male body after being with my portly spouse for so long.

After a good half hour rubbing his back, I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Roll over."

"No, I'm fine now, Mom. Just let me rest a while."

I knew his thigh was bothering him, and really wanted to make it better, so I reiterated, "It's okay, just roll over, honey." Tyler didn't move for a moment, so I gave him a playful slap on the butt and said a bit louder, "Come on, roll over."

After a pause, Tyler slowly moved onto his back, and instantly I knew why he had been so hesitant. A prominent bulge tented my son's tight athletic shorts, which almost took my breath away. His face glowed red with embarrassment, but I wanted to somehow convey I understood it was beyond his control. I don't think I'd ever felt more compassion for anyone in my life, and I tried to look directly into his eyes without overtly acknowledging the problem below. I gave him my best knowing motherly smile, and then said softly, "It's okay sweetie, just close your eyes and relax."

Although I tried to remain calm on the outside, my insides were doing cartwheels. I almost found it hard to breathe as I moved my hands to Tyler's thighs and slowly began running them up and down. I honestly tried to look away, but my eyes were drawn to his groin like a magnet, soaking in his obvious excitement. It had been ages since I'd seen Don erect, but this was far more taboo. My son's cock was less than two feet from my face, and my mouth began to water as I momentarily imagined pulling down his shorts, then leaning over to take it between my lips.

Tyler grunted occasionally as I applied a bit of extra pressure, so I tried to be as gentle but thorough as possible. At times my fingertips ran under the seam of his shorts, only inches from his balls and semi-erect penis. A tingle ran down my spine as I realized I was doing it intentionally, experiencing an illicit thrill at my not so subtle actions.

"How does that feel, sweetie?" I cooed as I gently caressed his skin.

"Awesome," he whimpered, which made me smile widely.

My eyes may have been riveted to the bulge in Tyler's shorts as I stroked his thigh, but my lewd fantasy world was shaken when I heard the pitter patter of feet on the hardwood floors above. Ty must have heard it too, because he rapidly sat up and pulled a pillow onto his crotch. I quickly moved to the other end of the sofa and took a seat as well, trying to appear as natural as possible. Thankfully, when Don arrived at the bottom of the steps, he turned and went into the kitchen without giving us a moment's notice.

Tyler and I looked upon each other with obvious relief on our faces. It seemed to me like we had dodged a major bullet, and my son must have had the same thought. As strange as it may sound, after only a moment, we both broke out into grins, and then fought to repress giggles. It really did feel like it was the two of us against my husband.

Don came into the room a minute later and asked, "What's going on? I thought you were going to watch a movie."

I was a still a bit flustered, but thankfully Tyler took control and answered, "The movie sucked, so we turned it off a few minutes ago. We were just about to head up to bed." I normally do not like lies, but under the circumstances his fib seemed innocent enough.

Don just shook his head before he walked towards the stairs, while complete relief washed over me. I looked at Tyler and wanted to say so many things, but nothing would come out of my mouth. He must have felt the same as he silently rose from his seat and held his hands out to me. I placed my palms in his and let him pull me into a tight embrace.

After everything we shared the previous weeks, it was clear Tyler and I had more than just a normal mother-son relationship. If I was being completely honest with myself, I think it was at that evening when I first thought of him as my soul mate.

When we broke away, Tyler looked down upon me and slowly leaned forward, bringing his lips to mine. I would not call it a passionate kiss, but it lingered longer than the usual pecks we had shared so many times before. He then stared deeply into my eyes, and said, "I love you, Mom."

I could feel my cheeks burning as I responded, "I love you too."

My head was swimming as I climbed the stairs ahead of him, wondering if he was checking out my bottom in my cute PJs. I have to admit, I did put a bit of extra wiggle with every step, hoping to draw his eyes to my assets. I felt a bit guilty as we passed the door to my husband's study, yet he paid us no attention as usual.

My body was simply on fire as I climbed under the covers. My fingers immediately went between my legs and I began stroking my loins. I hoped to rub myself off before my husband came in from his office, but only a minute or so later he entered the room and made ready for bed.

When Don slipped in beside me, I could feel the warmth between us and wondered if he could too. We had not been intimate in ages, but my body had been in such a heightened sensual state, I was ready for attention. After a moment of indecision regarding what I should do, I lovingly eased myself up against his side. In all the years of our marriage, I had rarely been the one to initiate sex, so this was a big deal to me. I gently ran my hand up and down Don's belly a few times, and then lowered it to his groin.

I assumed that after being without affection for as long as he had, my husband would have responded enthusiastically. Instead, he pushed my hand away and barked, "Jesus Kathy, go to bed."

Until that moment I had never before considered it, but suddenly I wondered if Don might be cheating on me. Sure, I was no runway model, but I certainly looked better than I had in years. Yet there he was, still rejecting me.

I was hurt by Don's seeming indifference and possible infidelity, but grew irate later as I lay there wide awake as he snored contentedly beside me. The arousal I felt earlier had dissipated, but out of spite, I suddenly wanted to get myself off right there alongside him.

My hand moved under my waistband once again and began to softly stroke my nether lips. Normally I would have fought with tooth and nail to keep thoughts of Tyler out of my head, but after being rebuffed by Don, I welcomed his image into my head. In my mind I was back on the couch with my son, yet not stroking his injured thigh. At that moment, I was thinking about stroking his hard cock instead, desperately wanting to give him the pleasure his father clearly did not want.

I found myself slowly rocking my hips against my probing fingers, no longer caring if I disturbed my husband's slumber. My blood began to boil as I pictured yanking down Tyler's shorts and taking his young cock into my mouth, and sucking him to completion. Seconds later, I came with a rush as I imagined swallowing my son's cream, with him screaming in my ears, "Oh, Mom!"

After I had recovered from my orgasm, I began to feel quite guilty at the pleasure my lewd thoughts had given me. Sure, Don had been a jackass towards me for a while, but he was still my husband. And Tyler was my son for heaven's sake, what the hell was I thinking? Yes, I had been ignored and neglected, but that was no reason to imagine sucking my son's cock just to get myself off.

I was deeply saddened when August first rolled around because I knew Tyler would soon be heading back to school. My heart was heavy as I pictured the emptiness I would feel by his absence, at home with only my husband for companionship. Don was never abusive mind you, but he seemed to grow jealous of Tyler and my relationship over the summer. I think, or maybe hoped, he was possibly seeing just what he had lost.

Tyler was leaving for school on the next Saturday morning, so on Friday evening we enjoyed one last workout together. The session was quieter than usual as I think we both were saddened by the prospect of being apart. We made eye contact often, and for some reason I couldn't help but blush. I felt like a schoolgirl once more, but my crush was no longer Billy Hanlon.

After our intense session, we once again took a long walk through the neighborhood, hand in hand. We strolled casually, wanting to spend as much time together as possible without ever admitting it aloud. When the sky grew dark, we sadly turned and made our way home.

Arriving back at the front door, Tyler held both my hands in his and stared at me lovingly. Tears formed in my eyes as I gazed back at him, and then I moved forward and rested my head on his chest. He pulled me into a tight embrace as my body began to shudder with sobs. It felt wonderful to be in the arms of someone who truly loved me and I clung to him for dear life. As he patted my back, Tyler whispered in my ear, "It'll be okay, Mom."

After what seemed like hours, Tyler eased away and looked down upon me once more. His eyes were filled with such love; my heart almost skipped a beat. No words were spoken as he moved his lips to mine and we softly kissed. Our mouths moved together gently for a few seconds when I felt the tip of his tongue make contact with my own. It lasted only a moment as if he was testing me, but a shiver ran down my spine, right to my groin. I felt a longing between my legs that I had never before experienced, which frankly scared me, given the fact that we were standing on our front steps with bright light shining on us from above. Deathly afraid that the neighbors might be watching, I pushed myself away and almost ran indoors.

Moments later I found myself alone in the safety of my shower. I was ashamed that I left Tyler without a word of explanation, yet the fire burning in my loins was still there, and I just had to put it out. Two fingers of my right hand curled in and out of my sex, while my left hand was pressed against the tile wall for support. When I came, it was not the face of my husband that I saw, but that of my loving son.

For some reason, after my orgasm I broke down in tears and began sobbing silently as I tried to come to terms with my tattered emotions. Knowing in just hours Tyler would be gone and I may not see him again for months, I was filled with immense sadness. It took ages to finally fall asleep that evening as I just could not stifle all the mixed emotions I was feeling.

In the morning Tyler packed up his car, and Don and I saw him off without much fanfare. I was on pins and needles, afraid I might do something to reveal just how distressed I really was. I longed to embrace him like the night before, but this time never let him go. Instead, I gave him a curt hug and a quick peck on the cheek, and the next thing I knew, he was gone.

Over the next couple days, I actually felt sickened by my behavior. Because I didn't have the courage to face him and talk about why I had run away after our kiss, I'm sure Tyler was left feeling immense guilt. I finally sat down at my computer one evening and typed him a long e-mail. I basically told him I treasured our time together and loved the fact that he had been so wonderful to me, but apologized for getting carried away that last evening, without ever actually mentioning the kiss. After reading over the message a number of times, with great apprehension I hit the send button.

I checked my in box at least fifty times before I finally received Tyler's response. His words were so sweet I had to re-read them a second time through musty eyes. He said I had nothing to apologize for, that he was the one that got carried away, not I. The last line of his text read, "I just hope you don't hate me."

How could I ever hate my son? He clearly had no idea hate was the last emotion I could ever feel towards him. It had taken me a while to realize it, but I no longer just loved Tyler, I was in love with him. Head over heels like nothing I had ever felt before.

Rather than just send back a message, I decided I needed to be brave and actually phone him. I took my cell phone to the basement, and punched in his number. Tyler must have been in class, because it went straight to his voice mail. After listening to his short greeting, I left the following stammering message, "Hi honey, it's Mom. I just read your e-mail and needed to let you know that I don't hate you...I could never, ever hate you. I'm so, so sorry I ran away from you the other night and wanted you to know you did nothing wrong. I was just concerned that if your father or the neighbors saw us, they might, umm, you know, get the wrong idea. Please don't feel bad about this, sweetie. I love you so much and already miss you a ton. Take good care, honey. I love you."

After I hung up the phone, I felt really silly about my choice of words, and regretted leaving the message. I wished I had written things down before I dialed his number so I could make all the points I wanted, instead I was certain I'd missed the mark on so many things. There was no way for me to delete it, so I just hoped he'd understand when he finally listened.

Tyler called me back that evening, but Don was sitting next to me so I couldn't say much. The conversation was brief, but it felt wonderful to put things behind us and move forward. After that evening, we found time to either chat on the phone or e-mail at least once per day and from his tone I could tell things were pretty much back to normal. Life would indeed go on one way or another.

I decided I owed it to Tyler to not only continue my workouts, but to even take things further. I threw myself into my routine with abandon, and even took up jogging. My runs were only around the perimeter of our neighborhood, so no more than three miles or so, but they left me feeling truly invigorated.

In late September, I pulled out the scale and tape, and eagerly checked my stats. Thanks to diet and exercise, in just the month or so since Tyler went back to school, I had dropped another eight pounds. I couldn't wait to tell him and after putting myself through a really hard workout, sat at my laptop to send a note.

The phone rang about a half hour later, and I knew who it was before I even picked it up. After I said hello, Tyler barked, "Eight pounds! That's awesome, Mom!"

I have no doubt I was beaming from ear to ear as I gushed, "It's all because of you."

We exchanged excited comments for a while, when he said, "God, I can't wait to see you." My heart fluttered at his words, and then he tentatively asked, "Maybe you could, you know, send pictures?"

The idea of possibly e-mailing pictures of myself to my son really threw me for a loop. And the fact that he clearly wanted to see them made my skin tingle. I didn't reject his request outright, and simply responded, "We'll see." I definitely needed to think that one over.

As I lay in bed later then evening, aside my slumbering husband, I thought about Tyler's request. The more I mulled it over, the more harmless it seemed. What's wrong with a mother sending her son a few pictures? It wasn't like I was going to be nude or anything.

I gently eased myself out of bed, and moved to my dresser. After considering the options of what to wear for a while, I decided to go with one of my newer workout getups. I grabbed the shorts and top, and silently made my way downstairs.

After picking up our digital camera, I went into the bathroom and locked the door. I pulled off my nightie, and slipped into my workout gear, then looked in the mirror. I slept without a bra, and had neglected to bring one, so my breasts were unencumbered under the light top. Just a slight hint of my nipples could be seen, and rather than be ashamed, I thought the idea of taking pictures in that state was just a bit sexy. It was further stimulation knowing what I was being somewhat naughty with my husband just upstairs.

I primped my hair a bit, and then pointed the camera into the mirror and snapped a number of shots. I twisted and turned my body into one pose after another, hoping to capture at least a couple of flattering angles. After a good ten minutes of posing, I made my way to the kitchen where I kept my laptop, and downloaded the new images. As the file ran, I erased all the shots from the camera lest Don find them and ask questions I was unprepared to answer.

I poured over them slowly, deleting all the pictures I didn't like for whatever reason. Overall I was pretty pleased with the quality, given the fact that I had shot them into a mirror. In the small frame, you couldn't really tell that I was braless, but the tiny dots of my nipples were detectable if you looked hard. I had a sneaky suspicion that Tyler just might too.

After running over them back and forth for some time, I settled on the three I liked the most, then logged into my e-mail. I attached the three pictures, and typed five simple words, "So, what do you think?" After that, I logged off and made my way back to bed.

Taking the pictures had really made my pulse pound, and I found sleep impossible. My mind kept wandering to thoughts of Tyler scanning them diligently, one after another, and hoping he liked what he saw. I wondered if they might even be sexy enough to make him hard, and the next thing I knew I was touching myself again.

At first I just rubbed my slick lips, teasing myself with gentle contact. Before long, I slid a finger into my depths, and started moving it in and out. I added another finger, then increased the pace as my excitement continued to grow. I could almost see Tyler sitting in front of his computer, stroking himself as he looked at my pictures with wide eyes. Seconds later my own body stiffened as I came, desperately trying to stifle a sigh. Thankfully I didn't wake Donald, and finally satiated, I too drifted off into a contented sleep.

I intentionally didn't log into my personal e-mail until the next afternoon, where I found my son had responded to my message. I was nervous as I opened it, but knew I shouldn't have been. He said he was going to be late for class, so he had to keep his note brief. Still, I couldn't contain a smile as I read, "Holy cow Mom! You look amazing! Keep up the good work and can't wait to see you! XOXO."

As I jogged the neighborhood that evening, I thought about the pictures I sent and contemplated possibly doing more. The idea of sending something racier came into my head, and as strange as it sounds, I didn't dismiss it right away. Knowing I might one day pose for a picture in something truly revealing like lingerie or a bikini would be highly motivational. If I were going to do something that daring, I'd really need to drop at least another ten pounds. Minutes later when I reached my home, I just kept right on going and did another loop for good measure. After that evening, I consistently did at least two laps or more.

Tyler was working on a big senior project at school, so he wasn't able to make it home once that fall before Thanksgiving. The second Saturday on November, I once again broke out the scale to take my weight. I was stunned when I read the dial. In the six weeks since I had last updated my son, I had dropped another fourteen pounds. I knew my clothes had seemed baggier, in fact I had to take a couple skirts in to have them tailored, but I really hadn't expected this.

After working out and taking a hot shower, I left Don on the couch watching football while I went out on a mission. The sporting goods store downtown had a large selection of workout clothing, and I knew just what I wanted. I selected a tight pair of pink and black stretch boy shorts and a matching bikini-style sports top and headed to the changing room. They proved to be a bit snug, but otherwise a good fit.

As I assessed myself in the mirror, for possibly the first time in my entire life I thought I looked pretty damn sexy. Of course I had seen pictures of women in magazines dressed in similar outfits before, but not for a moment did I ever think that one day I'd be clothed in the same way.

I went back to the rack and picked out another outfit, this one in navy blue and green, and raced back to try it on. If possible, this one made me look even slimmer. I was on cloud nine when I arrived at the checkout counter with my two new outfits, and happily forked over more money than otherwise I thought they were worth.

I didn't want my husband to know what I purchased for some reason, so I stopped at the grocery store before going home, hiding my new apparel under a bag of veggies. As expected, Don was still on the sofa when I arrived back at the house, and I lied and told him I was going up for a nap. Of course I snuck both my laptop and camera along with me.

Our master bathroom had a full-length mirror, and within minutes I was before it in the new blue and green outfit. I practiced posing for a while, before I grabbed the camera and started shooting. At times I just couldn't help myself, and turned to expose my profile, eager to show off my firmer tummy and legs. Of course, in so doing I was also showing my tighter tush and more pronounced bust line. I quickly changed into the pink and black gear, and then repeated most of the same poses.

After changing back into my skirt and blouse, I hid the new purchases and eagerly pulled out my laptop and loaded the pictures. Other than the fact that I could really use a tan, they all looked quite good. I had never been particularly happy with my appearance, but at that moment I was quite proud of myself. I thought I looked pretty damn hot for a woman my age.

Once again, I selected the shots I liked best, this time just two in total, and attached them to an e-mail. The pictures were sexier than the ones I had sent before, so I was a bit apprehensive, thinking maybe this was going too far. The first picture was of me facing forward, which showed some pretty ample cleavage created by the tight sports top. The last had me standing sideways, bent over just a touch so my newly firmer bottom was thrust out provocatively. I wasn't sure what to say in my message, so this time I just typed one word, "Thoughts?" and hit send.

I closed my computer and lay back under the covers. Seeing how sexy I looked in the pictures made me feel heady, and before I even knew what was happening, I found my hand under my skirt, pressed firmly between my legs. I softly rubbed myself through my silky panties for only a minute, when my cell phone rang from its place on the nightstand. I knew it could only be one person.

I greeted him with a soft, "Well, hello sweetie."

"Oh my God, Mom, you look amazing!" he exclaimed with excitement.

I tried to play coy and asked, "You really think so?"

"Hell yes!" he exclaimed, and then added, "I'm so proud of you."

My heart swelled as I heard the words. First and foremost, I was doing it for myself, but secondly I really wanted Tyler to be proud of me. He clearly liked my progress, which thrilled me to no end. What was also exciting was the fact that I continued to touch myself as we spoke, hearing his voice only heightening my arousal.

We chatted about the pictures for a while, and then I asked, "So, which one do you like better?"

"Well, they're both awesome, but I think I'd go with the picture of you in the pink outfit." That was the one of me from the side, and I asked why. "I don't know, I just like it better for some reason," he replied nervously.

I was feeling a little giddy, so I said, "I guess that means you're more of a leg and butt man than a boob man."

Tyler chuckled a bit before he responded, "Maybe so Mom, maybe so."

Deep down I was wondering just what he would think if he saw me at that very moment. Those legs he seemed to admire were spread wide, and the firm butt in the picture was slowly rocking back and forth as I stroked my pussy.

I felt so amazingly naughty touching myself while talking to my son, with his dad just yards away no less, I just didn't want to hang up. I asked more questions about the pictures and was delighted by his effusive praise.

After a brief pause in the conversation, Tyler asked, "So, ah, does Dad know about these?"

There was a minor pang of guilt, but I responded with the truth, "No honey, he doesn't even know about the new outfits yet." I let that sink in a moment, and then added, "It's our secret, okay?"

"Of course, just between us," he promised.

"Secrets can be fun, can't they?" I whispered in a hush.

"They sure can, Mom," he replied. I'm sure he was wondering just what else we someday might keep just between us.

The entire moment was overwhelming and I was getting close to orgasm. Knowing that in a way I was almost cheating on my husband was beyond words, and the fact that my own son was the object of my desire was driving me insane with lust. Somehow I managed to ask, "You're not going to show them to any friends at school are you? Mommy wouldn't like that."

I was wondering if maybe he was masturbating while looking at my photos too, because he almost sounded out of breath as he grunted, "Nope, never Mom."

I purred into the phone, "Good boy," as I languidly touched myself. In my mind I could almost see Tyler at his computer, stroking himself furiously while looking at my pictures. With that image suddenly burned into my brain, I came with a rush. Somehow I was able to form coherent words, and soon ushered him off the phone, though not before telling him how excited it was going to be to see him on Thanksgiving.

The next week I went shopping to pick out the perfect dress for the reunion, as well as a few new outfits to fit the slimmer me. I also stopped into a tanning salon a few times in an attempt to give my skin a healthier glow. Of course, I also worked out like a fiend, always in my sexy new gear.

I was nervous as hell the evening before Thanksgiving, knowing Tyler would be home at any moment. I had selected one of my new skirts for the occasion, black, which came down about three inches short of my knees. It was sexier than anything I would have worn just months ago, but not over the top.

When I heard a car door slam outside, I had to force myself to stay seated and not appear too eager in front of my husband. Tyler entered the door a minute later, with a duffle bag over his shoulder, and shouted, "I'm home."

As calmly as I could, I rose from the chair and went to greet him. After pulling me into a tight embrace, he stepped back and said, "Jesus Mom, you look fucking fantastic!"

From his usual position on the couch, Don exclaimed, "Hey, watch your mouth."

I was feeling like a giddy schoolgirl, and ignored both the curse and my husband's comment. Without thinking I did a little pirouette, and then asked, "You really think so?"

He didn't have to respond as the answer was written all over his handsome face. He leaned in close and whispered, so his father could not hear, "Like I said, fucking fantastic."

Although I usually abhorred swearing, I found his words incredibly exciting. My knees felt weak, so I moved into him and hugged him once more. We stood in our embrace for a moment, until I heard Don say, "Crap Kathy, give the kid some space."

I was embarrassed to hear those words, and by the look on Tyler's face he was too. We broke apart and my son moved off to greet his dad. I stood watching them chat for a bit, but I really only had eyes for one of them. During a break in the conversation, I asked, "You had a long drive, can I get you anything, sweetie?"

Tyler looked at me and said, "I've been cooped up in the car so long, I really just need to stretch my legs." His face turned into a big grin as he asked, "Actually, a good workout would be good about now. Care to join me?"

I fought to repress my own grin and replied, "Sounds good. Meet you downstairs in a few." Moments later I was in my room slipping into my sexy workout clothes. So as not to completely freak out Donald, I pulled a baggy old colored tee over my top and an old pair of athletic shorts up my legs.

When I walked into the basement, Tyler was already standing on the mat, clad in sweats and a cotton top. We gazed upon one another for a moment in silence, before I moved my hands to grasp the bottom of my shirt. I slowly lifted it over my head and tossed in over the weight belt. Tyler's eyes were riveted to me as I then pushed the shorts to the ground and kicked them aside.

There I was, standing in just my skimpy pink workout gear, alone with my handsome son. Suddenly I realized the gravity of the situation and wondered if I'd gone completely insane. It was one thing to flirt on the phone or over the internet, but it was quite another to contemplate actually taking things to another level. Sure, I had fantasized about it, but I told myself it could never go beyond that. There was still a part of me that just wanted to run to Tyler and smother him with kisses, but I couldn't. Even though I was in love with him, I just couldn't do it.

I saw Tyler step towards me, and thought he might be coming to kiss me, so I quickly cut him off with a, "So, I guess we should stretch first." Quickly I turned away and dropped to the mat. When I glanced back, Tyler had a confused look upon his face, but he too soon plopped down as well.

Inside I felt horrible as I must have been toying with his emotions. We had grown very close before, only to have me push him away, yet there I was doing it again. Little was said during our exercise program, and rather than go for a run or walk afterwards, I instead chose to hit the shower alone. As the water rained down upon my head, I thought of what a complete mess I'd made of things.

Thanksgiving dinner was pleasant overall, but I found that I could barely look at my son due to my immense guilt. Tyler assisted me in the kitchen on occasion, but other than that our interaction was limited. At one point I took him in and he looked like a lost puppy dog, which stung my heart to the core.

After dinner the boys settled in the family room to watch football, as was their custom. At halftime, the news came on and the weatherman announced a possible travel advisory for the weekend. Don yelled out, "Better get in here, Kathy." I rushed in to listen to the update.

The reunion was scheduled for that Saturday, only two days away. Apparently the thinking was that most people would be home with family for the holiday, so why not kill two birds with one stone? That made sense for a five or maybe even a ten year reunion, but not so much for a twenty five as people seemed more scattered these days.

I had heard that snow was possible, but initial reports had only called for rain. From what the man was saying, it looked like the front was moving further south due to the jet stream, bringing with it colder air and lots of snow. If the forecast was correct, the heavy stuff would begin falling late in the afternoon on Saturday, just hours before the big party.

I was deathly afraid of driving in snow, so the idea of being caught in it somewhere along that hundred mile stretch of highway was decidedly unpleasant. My intent all along was to make the trip alone as Don clearly wanted no part or it, so I only purchased one ticket. I looked hopefully at my husband, and he instantly must have known what was on my mind.

"Don't even think about it," he stated flatly, shaking his head. Then added, "I'm not getting killed just so you can see a bunch of people you haven't spoken to in twenty five years."

I had worked so hard to get ready for the big day, my spirits were suddenly crushed. There was just no way I could make the drive alone. I could feel my cheeks grow warm and was about to cry, when Tyler said, "I'll take you Mom."

My ears perked up in a flash and I quickly gazed towards him. Before I could say anything however, Don spouted off, "That's just crazy. You'll probably end up in a ditch or worse."

Tyler just calmly replied, "You heard him, Dad. He said the storm won't hit until late in the afternoon. If Mom and I leave early, we'll be there long before the snow starts."

There was silence for a moment while my husband contemplated the situation. I was holding my breath when Don finally said, "Okay, but don't call me if you run into trouble."

I could breathe again.

My eyes moved back to Tyler, and he just shrugged his shoulders and twisted his head to the side a bit, as if to say, "What else could I do?" After the way I had treated him, I didn't deserve his help, yet I accepted gratefully.

I was busy cleaning up after the holiday on Thursday, and then found many reasons to stay away from Tyler on Friday, yet couldn't avoid him Saturday morning. We were alone after breakfast, when he said, "I looked online...you know the hotel has a pool and gym, right?"

I had a feeling where this was going, and reluctantly responded, "Yes."

"Well, I was thinking, you know, umm, we might have time for a swim and a real workout. If we get snowed in that is," he said hopefully.

I didn't want to burst his bubble completely, so I replied, "Maybe so, sweetie, but I think I'll be really busy catching up with old friends."

He just shrugged a bit and said softly, "Well, it was just an idea."

For some reason, just before we left, I crammed my skimpy pink and black workout clothes into the suitcase, just in case. I imagined Billy Hanlon or some other high school guy catching me on the treadmill in the gym at some point, wondering why he hadn't scooped me up years before. I was not bringing them for Tyler, I kept telling myself.

The drive took just over an hour and a half, but seemed longer as we barely spoke most of the way. Pouring my thoughts into an e-mail, when I didn't have to see my son's face, was so much easier than trying to explain myself with his sitting aside me. I felt terrible, but hoped we'd find a way through things like we always had before.

Not that I didn't still think of him as my soul mate. Every time I glanced over at him, Tyler looked so confident behind the wheel. The fact that a storm might be on the way didn't appear to trouble him at all as it had me. I was deeply grateful he made chose to come with me, but was nervous how everything would play out.

The reunion was being held in the hotel where I had made reservations. When I originally booked the room, I assumed I'd either be alone, or maybe Don would come along. As a result, I had only requested a single. When we checked in, I asked for an upgrade, but was told they were overbooked. Apparently due to the reunion and storm, there were no other rooms to be had.

The clerk was very sweet and said she could send up a roll-a-bed, which I agreed to instantly. Tyler was standing just to my side, but I just couldn't look at him. I was quite sure he was perfectly willing to share the lone bed, yet I had to nip that entire idea in the bud. Sharing a room with him was going to be hard enough without actually sharing a bed.

Tyler took the key card from me and opened the door, and I think we both moved inside somewhat cautiously. One large bed dominated the room, but I think we both tried to ignore the implications as we set about unpacking our things. There was a knock on the door a few minutes later, and Tyler let a hotel worker in, pushing an ancient looking cot on rollers before her. The Hispanic woman folded it down and made the bed, before she slipped out the door, leaving Tyler and me alone once more.

Since I was up so early, and had hours to kill before the event, I told Tyler I hoped to take a quick nap. He must have understood I wanted to be alone, as he said, "Sounds good, Mom. Think I'll go and check out the pool and the video games downstairs." Just two minutes later or so, he had slipped into a pair of swim trunks and was out the door.

As tired as I was, sleep did not come easy. I was nervous about the big night, wondering what people would think of me after all these years. But I was even more troubled about the relationship I had with my son. He had done so much to get me ready for this evening, yet I was almost treating him like a leper or something, afraid to get too close or I might do something I'd regret. He deserved so much better.

The reunion was scheduled to begin at seven, so at just about six o'clock I rose from the bed and began my preparations. Tyler had stayed away all afternoon, which did not really surprise me. I think he was hurt by my rejection, so either he was giving me space or simply needed some himself.

I took a long hot shower, and then got out to first begin addressing my hair. As a working woman, I usually just brushed it out or threw it up into a clip of some type before I left for the office. Knowing the reunion was on the horizon; I let my locks grow out a bit, and experimented with my curling iron. I was no expert, but thought I found a look to fit my face.

After spending close to another half hour in the bathroom, my hair was done and my face subtly painted. Standing before the mirror with just a white towel wrapped around my torso, I thought I looked rather lovely. The soft coloring I added to my cheeks made me look sweet, while the lines I added around my eyes hinted at sexy.

I then went to the closet and grabbed the gown I had selected for the party. Since it was an evening event, I had purchased a figure fitting black cocktail dress to hopefully wow the crowd. The bottom hem stopped just four inches above my knees, which seemed fine to me, but the neckline appeared more problematic. The silky material rounded over my exposed shoulders, before plunging deep into my chest, creating a striking V towards my cleavage.

Before my dramatic weight loss, I would never have even contemplated trying to pull off such a sexy look. Yet as I stood there admiring myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but think of my son. There was simply no way on earth I would be in this position without Tyler's help, and I was saddened by the fact that he wasn't with me to see the fruits of our labor.

I milled about the room for a while, nervously checking myself in the mirror as I watched the clock tick by. I decided to be fashionably late, so just before 7:30; I finally grabbed my purse and started towards the door. Just then, it cracked open and Tyler strode in, "Oh, sorry, Mom. I thought you'd be gone by now."

I instantly knew he had stayed away all day for my benefit, just as I had suspected. Not knowing just what to say, but needing to break the tension, I asked, "So, what do you think?" I then gave a slight turn so he could look me over.

It was obvious that Tyler was reluctant to go out on a limb again since I had hurt him before, when he replied softly, "Nice, really nice."

Over the previous months I had grown accustomed to his many words of praise, so the comment seemed rather subdued. Momentarily I doubted myself and asked, "Just nice?"

Tyler appeared to gulp down a breath of air, and seemingly exasperated, replied, "What do you want from me anyway, Mom?"

Suddenly taken aback, I responded, "Just the truth, sweetie."

"You really want the truth? Okay, you're fucking gorgeous. Happy now?" he shouted at me, his cheeks shining more crimson than even during our most intense workouts. Tyler stood staring at me, wearing a face I had never seen before. He wasn't just hurt by some schoolboy crush; he was clearly upset with me.

After everything we had shared, I hated the fact that we somehow had digressed to this point. I suddenly ran forward, throwing my arms about him. Tyler must have been disgusted with me as he left his arms dangling at his side as opposed to hugging me back, while I held him tight.

My eyes began to well up, but I fought the tears as I didn't want to ruin my makeup. There was nobody else on earth I loved more than my son, and at that moment I felt terrible I had hurt him so much. I continued to hold him tight until he finally wrapped his arms around me too. Suddenly I really couldn't care less about the reunion and whispered in his ear, "I could skip the party and we could just go to dinner or something, sweetie."

Tyler gave me a tight squeeze and said, "No, go see your friends, Mom."

I pulled back to look him in the eyes, and responded, "Are you sure? I'd much rather just stay here with you." I was afraid of what we might do, but was ready for almost anything at that point.

He gave me a soft smile and said, "I'm sure. You deserve a fun night out, and everyone will love you in that dress." Tyler led me to the door, and after a soft peck on the cheek, sent me on my way.

I nervously entered the hallway leading to the ballroom, and saw a line forming before a door in the distance. Over the entrance was a big sign in red and white, 'Welcome Harrison High Hawks.' As I approached, I found myself surrounded by middle-aged men and women, most dressed to the nines, but surprising a few in jeans.

Upon entering the dimply lit room, my eyes took a moment to adjust to the low light. Almost immediately I saw something rushing toward me, and before I even knew what was happening I was in the embrace of two cackling women. Even after all these years, I instantly recognized the voices of my old best friends, Michelle and Janet.

We caught up on each other's lives after the initial excitement of our union finally died down. Michelle went to the bar and grabbed us each a glass of wine, and then we found a table to share as we talked about anything and everything. It was so great to see their smiling faces once more, I almost felt like a kid again.

As we chatted I somehow managed to keep up the facade that everything was just wonderful with my family life. From what I shared with the girls, Don, Tyler and I were just the most perfect family anyone could ever hope for. Yet even as I spoke my son's name, I couldn't help but think of how amazing it was to be wrapped in his strong arms like I had been only minutes before. Deep down, I just knew a part of my life was about to change that weekend, for good or bad.

Janet and Michelle of course knew about my high school crush. Janet leaned in close and whispered in my ear, "Billy's here and he's divorced." When I looked back at her, she gave me what I'm sure she thought was a knowing nod, almost as if I had her approval to cheat on my husband. I was a bit surprised by that after everything I'd said earlier, but kept my thoughts to myself. Maybe she could see through me after all.

Music was blaring over the speakers, and all the tunes were from the time of our high school years. Michael Jackson, Duran Duran, and many other acts I had not heard in ages pounded into my ears as people took to the dance floor.

I became quite annoyed when a couple guys in turn interrupted my conversation with the girls to ask me to dance, while nobody asked Janet or Michelle. They were both a bit on the heavy side, but really looked quite cute in their party dresses. Just six or so months ago, I would have been in the same boat with them, so I was convinced that I too would not have been asked either. These same guys avoided me like the plague in school, so I generously declined their invitations.

After an hour or so and two more glasses of wine, the girls and I got up and milled around the crowd. There no longer seemed to be any cliques as everyone appeared more than willing to chat with us, but most just wanted to talk about what happened in high school and not what we'd accomplished since. It was really quite frustrating and I was almost beginning to regret coming in the first place. I certainly hadn't come to rehash my largely miserable school days.

After listening to Candace Allen tell yet another story from her cheerleading days, I was about to lose my lunch. I just couldn't take anymore and broke away from the crowd to visit the ladies room and clear my head. As I looked in the mirror, I once again thought of Tyler and asked myself, "What am I doing here?"

When I came out, a tall, balding man approached me with a grin upon his face. He was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, with a beer belly even larger than Don's. "Hey, you're Kathy, aren't you?"

I honestly didn't have any idea who it was who greeted me, so I simply muttered, "Yes."

"I'm Billy. Billy Hanlon," he barked enthusiastically, smiling from ear to ear.

To say I was stunned would be an understatement. My high school dream boy was suddenly not looking so dreamy. For some reason I thought of my son and just knew he'd never let himself go like this.

We made small talk for a while, when unexpectedly Billy asked me to dance. Twenty five years before I would have cut off a limb to hear those words, but at that moment I honestly wanted nothing to do with him.

Demurely I responded, "I'm so sorry, Bill, I have a bad ankle."

He seemed to get annoyed and even bit aggressive with me, like I somehow owed something, "We'll just wait for a slow song. Your ankle will be fine then."

I didn't like his tone, and actually felt scared by his intimidation tactic. Thinking better than to outright reject him, I said, "Sounds good, the next slow song just come and find me." With that, I faked a limp and walked back to the girls. I quickly explained to them that I wasn't feeling well, and was calling it a night, promising to meet them for breakfast in the morning.

As I made my way back to the room, I realized there was really only one guy in the world I wanted to dance with, or do anything else with for that matter. I nervously slid the key card down the slot, pushed the door open and strutted into the room.

Tyler was lying across the old rollaway bed, and looked up at me with surprise. "Mom, why are you back so early?"

I moved alongside the creaky bed, and then sat on an open space near his hip. My heart began beating faster as I replied, "I was bored to tears." I gave him my best smile, and then added, "I'd much rather be here with a handsome young man like you than with a bunch of uninteresting old farts any day of the week." Tyler's eyes went wide, I'm sure cautiously optimistic of what might come next.

I pulled my digital camera out from my purse, and handed it to Tyler with a bit of flair. Of course I had brought it to take pictures with the girls, but suddenly I wanted to pose for my son. I gave him a little pouty smile, and then asked, "Would you mind taking a few pictures of me in my new dress?"

Tyler nodded enthusiastically, with a, "Sure, Mom."

I felt super sexy as a stood before him, moving from pose to pose as he snapped my picture over and over. The look on his face was priceless, and I assumed he might be enjoying the moment as much as I. Every now and then I'd thrust either my ample chest or firm bottom out, hoping for a few killer shots.

After ten minutes or so, we stopped and slowly review the pictures on the tiny screen. I hadn't brought my laptop, so it was hard to see if we had any keepers, but I was just sure there had to be at least a few.

The fancy new bra I had purchased special for the dress was digging into me, and the feet were killing me from the three inch heels, so I said, "Let me go change and we'll hang out for a while, okay?" Tyler gave me a nod, and then I slinked over to my bag, hoping he was watching as I intentionally swayed my hips seductively. I looked back at him and said, "Why don't you have a seat, I might be a while."

I grabbed a number of items from the suitcase so he would see what I picked, then made my way into the bathroom. After taking off my dress, I then climbed out of my sexy new underwear as well. From the stack of clothes I brought with me, I pulled out my little workout gear.

For a moment I stood in front of the mirror, admiring myself in the bright light. I was still a couple pounds over my target weight, but thought I looked quite nice. I was sure Tyler would think so too. I took a couple deep breaths, asking myself if I was really going to do this, but by that point a really couldn't think of a good answer not to. With that, I turned the knob and headed out to see my son.

Tyler looked puzzled to see me standing before him in my racy workout attire. The way things were going minutes before, I'm sure he was expecting a nightie or something. With a ruffled brow, he asked, "Are you going down to the gym?"

I stood with my hands on my hips; one leg cocked a bit to the side, and simply answered, "Nope."

I could almost see his mind racing before he finally asked, "The pool then?"

I just shook my head from side to side, giving him the sexiest look I could muster. Tyler just stared back at me in wonder, before I said, "I thought we could work out here in the room." After a dramatic pause, I added, "Together."

Tyler rose from the bed, and stood just a few feet from me. He appeared highly uncertain of just what to do, so I slowly moved towards him and wrapped my arms around his back. I pressed my body against his, and whispered in his ear, "Can you think of an exercise that would make me all hot and sweaty?"

He clearly had to be taken off guard, but somehow managed to stammer back, "Umm, I think so."

I chuckled softly in his ear, and then purred, "You think so?" You need to do better than that." Tyler didn't say anything, so I moved my mouth to his ear and playfully nibbled in his lobe, before whispering, "I don't just mean a little sweaty, Baby. I mean really super sweaty...all over."

"Yes," Tyler hissed back at me, as I felt him pull me tightly against him.

There was no mistaking the fact that he was hard as I could feel his firm penis pressed against my tummy. I couldn't help myself, and slid my hand between us to grasp it. I gave it a hard squeeze, and sighed softly, "Would you fuck me, sweetie?"

"Oh god, yes," he gushed, as he reached into my hair to pull my head back. An instant later I was being kissed with more passion that I had been ever before in my life. My arms wrapped around his shoulders as we mashed our lips together, while I thrust my groin wildly against his thigh.

I shivered as I felt his hands run down my bare back, and then cut my ass cheeks. He lifted me off the ground like a feather, and sat me atop his hips. My legs wrapped around him tightly, as I welcomed the firmer contact between my overheated pussy and his hard body.

Tyler began to slowly rock my body up and down, rubbing our groins together. I felt like a little girl in his strong arms, and actually began whimpering into his mouth as we kissed. My husband, in all our years together, had never even once made me feel this way.

I was afraid Tyler might cum just from our rubbing, and wanted to make his first orgasm with me far more special. Reluctantly, I eased away from him, and dropped back to the floor. He gave me a concerned look, but I just smiled back. Gazing directly into his eyes, I slowly moved to my knees before him.

I'm sure Tyler must have known what was about to happen, and he too broke into a wide smile. He was wearing a pair of old sweat pants, which I grasped and pulled to the floor without fanfare. He was not wearing undershorts, so the hard cock I had grasped earlier was now standing up proudly right before my very eyes.

I don't know how big it was, but it was clearly larger than that of his father. If I had to guess, I'd say it was just over eight inches long, and a bit thicker than Don's too. I reached up and wrapped my hand around its base, and began to gently stroke his length. I leaned in close and kissed the tip a few times, then looked back up at him and said, "Mommy's gonna take good care of you, sweetie."

Tyler groaned loudly as I sank my mouth down as far as I could onto his solid shaft. Over the years I had grown weary of blowing my husband, but I simply loved sucking off my only son. His erection filled my mouth completely, and at times I had to fight my gag reflex to take him as deep as I could. Tyler's fingers tickled my scalp lightly as I went down on him with an enthusiasm I'd never known before.

Just minutes later, Tyler began rocking his hips slightly and I heard him begin making a grunting sound. I knew my baby was close, so I wrapped my lips around him even tighter and sucked hard on the bulbous head of his prick. Seconds later I felt my hair being pulled as his hands twisted into fists, just as he unleashed a torrent of cum into my eager mouth.

Tyler held my head for a while, while I nursed him down from his climax. Finally he looked down at me and said, "Oh god, I'm so sorry Mom.

I let his cock plop from my mouth, and responded, "Don't worry, Honey. I loved it." Clearly Tyler was seeing an entirely new side of me, one I hoped he really liked. 

He looked completely spent from his powerful orgasm, so I told him to take a seat on the large bed. After he dropped down, he stared at me intently, wondering just what I'd do next. Figuring I'd give him a few minutes to recharge his batteries, I grabbed the camera and handed it to him once more. With a smile, I asked, "How 'bout a few more pictures?"

Tyler looked back at me and nodded silently as I began to model for him. Like before, I moved into a number of positions to display my charms. I felt like a wanton slut, thrusting my chest in his direction, and then bending over to display my taut ass. In my wildest dreams I had never imagined I could do something so overtly sexual, but I absolutely loved every second of it.

After moving about for a while, I remembered all of sexy stretches from the basement months before, so I dropped to the floor and went through a short routine. At one point I was down on my hands and knees with my butt facing Tyler, when a bit of an inspiration hit me. I reached a hand back, and slowly pulled the tight boy shorts downwards, exposing most of my bottom.

Tyler seemed to love that, as he spoke for the first time in minutes, "Yea, sexy Mom."

I loved hearing his words of encouragement, so I lowered my shoulders to the carpet and reached my other hand back, pulling the stretch fabric to my knees. For the first time in his adult life, Tyler had a front row seat before the completely naked ass of his lusty mom. Knowing how much he had to be enjoying the moment, I rocked my hips back and forth, provocatively wiggling my bottom in his face.

I slowly rolled over onto my back as Tyler continued to snap pictures of me. I was so hot; I ran my hands to my chest and fondled myself through the sexy sports top. Only a moment later, I eased my fingers under the tight material, and fought to pull it up over my head, leaving my chest fully exposed.

Tyler moved off the bed and stood over me, shooting picture after picture as I lay prone on the floor. I turned my head from side to side, trying to make the sexiest faces possible for the clicking lens.

My shorts were still trapped between my thighs, and I wanted the show to continue, so I forced them down my legs and kicked them away. I place a palm over my mound, covering myself before I slowly opened my legs. Tyler moved to my feet with camera at the ready, as I moved my hand away. There I was, a forty-something married woman, lying completely naked on a hotel floor, being photographed by my son.

His faced glowed from excitement as Tyler shot me from every angle. I was so overheated; I actually ran my hand back between my legs and began touching myself. I had never even masturbated for Donald, yet at that moment I was on fire being admired the way I clearly was. My pussy was dripping as I eased a finger inside myself and began moving it in a slow fucking motion.

Tyler moaned, "So fucking hot," as he moved in for a close-up of my crotch. I know I should have been mortified, yet I actually spread my legs even further and preened for the camera.

After a few more shots, I asked Tyler to help me to my feet. We hugged for a moment, and then I sprawled across the bed. I posed for a few more sexy shots, but couldn't wait any longer. I held my hand up and beckoned him closer with the curl of a finger and said, "Come to Momma."

He placed the camera down and joined me on the mattress. We made out like school kids for some time, with Tyler rubbing my breasts. He seemed to love playing with my nipples, and every now and then he'd give them a gentle squeeze or twist, which I thoroughly enjoyed. His kisses soon moved lower until he took my hard little nubbins in his mouth and began sucking and licking them.

I wrapped my hands around his head as he suckled me, loving the attention he was lavishing on my writhing body. As he gently bit my nips, I felt his fingers lightly graze down my tummy until he touched my pussy for the first time. I let out a long groan as he caressed my soaking wet lips, and then slipped a finger deep inside me.

"Oh, baby!" I grunted as his digit began to saw in and out of me in a slow but steady fashion. My hips rocked in time with his finger as I tried to fuck his hand, needing to cum so badly. Tyler must have sensed my urgency as he added a second finger and began firing them back and forth more rapidly. "Yes sweetie, yes," I begged, and he drilled my even faster.

Tyler quickly kissed his way down my belly, and positioned himself between my legs as he continued to probe me with his hand. I then felt the soft swipe of a tongue across my clit, and almost jumped out of my skin. He began lightly licking and sucking my tender bud as his fingers worked their magic inside me. I couldn't stop myself, and as I came shouted, "Cumming, Baby, Mommy's cumming!"

My head cleared after a moment, and I found myself still with legs spread wide, holding my son's face to my groin. He was still moving his hand, but very slowly and tenderly. His tongue traced up and down my slick lips, sucking up all my womanly nectar. I was in heaven as he slowly made love to my pulsating pussy.

I could feel my body responding to his gentle attention, and knew I was on my way to another orgasm. A quick jerk went through my body as I felt something soft lightly graze my anus for the first time. Tyler's tongue was still running all over my vagina, and his fingers were inside me, so I knew his other hand must have become busy too. His touch was like a feather on my bottom, sending shivers up and down my spine.

Don had never touched my ass, and candidly I never had thought of it as an erogenous zone, yet suddenly I was enjoying the attention greatly. His finger was slick, so either he wet it in his mouth or maybe coated it in my flowing juices. I let out a growl as he slowly pressed it forward, right into my virgin ass.

Words cannot adequately describe what I was feeling at that moment. Tyler began moving his hands in time with one another, steadily fucking both my pussy and ass like a master, while still lapping away at my sensitive clit. There was no way I could sit still, and started rolling my hips to meet his pace. I thrust my hips upward to drive my pussy deeper onto his fingers, then rapidly pushed downward, impaling my bottom on his other hand. Over and over I rode his probing paws, until I exploded with the absolute most intense orgasm of my life.

Sweat covered my body as I gasped for air. I looked down over my heaving chest, and saw the loving face of my son staring back at me from between my naked thighs. He crawled up beside me and pulled me into a hug. I buried my face in the nape of his neck, and clung to him for dear life.

When I was finally able to speak, I whimpered, "That was amazing, honey."

Tyler just softly kissed the top of my head, and replied, "Glad you liked it."

It suddenly dawned on me that his performance couldn't have just been beginners luck. Clearly, my son must have shared his bed with at least a few coeds while he was away at school. While I felt a big jealous of these mystery girls, I had to tip my hat to them. Whoever taught him what he had just done deserved a medal of the highest order.

I opened my eyes and glanced down and saw that Tyler was hard again. Instantly, I began to wonder if he was even better with his big cock than he was with his hands. I was worn out from my climaxes, but was more than willing to find out.

After throwing my leg up across his belly, I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. The position was wonderful as I could take in his lovely expression as I eased my body down lower upon his. When my butt made contact with his erection, I rose up off his tummy and grasped his firmness in my hand. Lining it up with my groove, I slowly sank back down, driving myself inch by inch onto Tyler's solid shaft.

"Oh god, Mom," Tyler grunted as I sat with him stuffed inside me.

"Yes Baby, so good," I whispered back in my best sexy voice. I then smiled and added, "Just lay back sweetie, Mommy's going to fuck you."

I can only assume that he had dreamed about that moment before, because he started moaning loudly when I began moving up and down on his cock. At first I went slowly, then smoothly increased my pace.

Tyler's hands went to my hips as we rocked together, matching each other thrust for thrust. His eyes were wide as he just stared up at me. I smiled broadly and asked, "You like fucking mommy, don't you?"

"So much Mom, so much," he hissed as he pressed himself up into me.

I was growing tired from the pace, but thankfully Tyler took over and pulled me down beneath him. He pressed his elbows to the mattress above my shoulders, and gently cupped my head in his large hands. He then began driving his cock in and out of me like a jackhammer. I had never been fucked so hard, but I loved every second of it.

Sweat dripped off the tip of Tyler's nose as he rode me like a madman. I could hear our bodies slapping together rhythmically, drowned out a bit by our groans of pleasure. My body finally gave in as a powerful orgasm washed over me like a flood. Just seconds later, Tyler roared in my ear as he shot his load deep inside my pussy.

We lay there in bed holding one another for a good half hour without saying a single word. I think we were both completely overwhelmed, but wanted to savor the moment. My hair was still soaked, pressed to Tyler's chest, and I really felt the need for a shower. I rose from the bed and took his hand, leading him into the bathroom to wash up.

We stood together under the hot water for a long time, gently caressing each other's bodies. He tenderly soaped every inch of my skin before I did the same for him. We then stood toe to toe and kissed passionately, before we shut the water off and went back to bed.

The hot shower had really reinvigorated me, and from the look of Tyler's cock, I can only assume it did for him too. For some reason I remembered his reaction to the pictures I sent, thinking he must have been a leg and butt man. After making out in bed for a while, I kissed my way down his belly before once again taking his hardness in my mouth. I sucked him for a minute or two, and then pulled away.

Tyler gazed at me with curious eyes as I moved up onto all fours and turned away from him. I glanced back over my shoulder, and saw a look of recognition suddenly appear on his face. Without my saying a word, he quickly moved up behind me on his knees, and slid the tip of his prick up against my slit. I couldn't wait another second, and pressed myself back into him, driving his cock inside me once more.

This time there were no slow, tender preliminaries. Tyler grasped my hips and began forcing himself into me like a well-oiled machine. I could hear him grunting with every thrust, while I whimpered, lost in passion.

At one point Tyler raised a hand and slapped my bottom quite firmly, exacting from me a loud, "Ouch!" He must have assumed I didn't enjoy it or was even angry at him for doing so, yet nothing could have been further from the truth. I had never before been spanked in a moment of passion, but I honestly really loved it. I was too shy to admit how much it truly thrilled me, so I said nothing and kept right on moving my body to the rhythm we had established.

Tyler moved one hand around me and began stroking my clit as we fucked. I knew I couldn't take much more and hoped I wouldn't pass out before my son came. He began plunging into my depths even faster and his gasping became even louder. I knew he was as close as I was, and he collapsed across my back an instant before my spasms wracked my entire body.

The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes and light was streaming through the sliding glass door into our hotel room. Snow was still falling and had completely covered the little patio that was just off our room. I was still in Tyler's arms, and I basked in the warmth between our bodies.

A short time later, he stirred and I rolled over to look in his eyes. He gave me an easy grin and said, "Morning, Mom."

I leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, and responded, "Morning yourself, baby." I dropped my head onto his chest, and Tyler tenderly wrapped his arms about me.

The phone rang a short time later. It was Janet, calling to meet for breakfast, so we reluctantly got out of bed so we could meet her and Michelle. After taking a quick shower together, we joined the girls downstairs for a nourishing meal. Tyler and I both ate like horses, I'm sure replenishing all the calories we burned off only hour before.

After saying our goodbyes, Tyler and I made our way back to the room in silence. He went directly into the restroom to freshen up, while I stood before the sliding glass door, watching the snow continue to pile up outside. He joined me a minute later, pressing himself against my back as we viewed the wintery weather together.

"Looks like the roads will be too treacherous to drive today, Mom," he whispered in my ear.

"I think you're right, sweetie." I replied, basking in his firm hug. "Looks like we'll have to book the room for another night, doesn't it?"

"It sure does. We wouldn't want to end up in a ditch like Dad said, now would we?" he mocked.

We stood watching the gale for a moment in silence, before I asked, "Think we can find some way to occupy our time while we're here?" Tyler didn't even respond, he simply spun me around and started kissing me.

The rest of the day was spent together in bed, only moving away from one another to use the restroom or order room service for dinner. The snow stopped falling in the afternoon, and by the next morning the crews had done their work and the roads were largely clear.

I had called into work to let them know I was trapped out of town, but should be in on Tuesday. After a long, sexy shower, Tyler and I quietly checked out of the hotel, and began the slow journey home.

The highway was largely abandoned, so most of the time we had things to ourselves. I was tired, and on the early part of the drive I just rested my head on Tyler's shoulder as he drove. My eyes were cast downward, and I could see a bulge in his jeans. After all the sexual activity the last couple of days, I guess my hormones still must have been racing as I ran my hand to his groin and gave it a soft squeeze.

I heard Tyler let out a soft, "Mmm," so I assumed he liked what I was doing. After unclipping my safety belt, I leaned over and began loosening his slacks. He had to help me a bit, but together we were able to pull his pants down enough to comfortably free his erect cock. I started showering it with kisses, then looked up and asked, "You're not going to crash if Mommy sucks your cock, are you, baby?"

"I'll concentrate on the road hard, I promise Mom," he replied with a teasing voice.

"Yes, hard. Very hard," I said with a grin just before I swallowed his shaft as far as I could. Never in my life had I done something so bold in public, and my body tingled with excitement. Imagining someone catching us as they drove past only made me hotter, and I slid a hand under my skirt to touch myself as I sucked Tyler off.

We made one quick stop on the way home, at a consumer electronics shop to get a new memory card for the camera. There was no way we could leave the old one around anyplace where my husband might find it. If fact, after I downloaded the pictures I planned on smashing it into a thousand pieces.

In spite of the storm, Don had gone into work that day, so Tyler and I had the rest of the afternoon to unwind and somehow come to grips with the new reality that was our relationship. One of the first things we did was grab my laptop, and then we retreated to the laundry room to load all the photos. We figured that if Don arrived home unexpectedly, that was one of the last places he'd look.

I set the computer atop the washer, and waited for the large file to stream over. Tyler stood behind me as the pictures finally opened. The first few were from the reunion, and I quickly scanned right past them. There would be time for that later.

Next we saw the first of the more intimate shots Tyler took in our room. There I was, clad in my sexy new cocktail dress, posing for the camera like a slut. Very slowly I paged through them, one at a time. Tyler moved closer and began fondling my tits as we both gazed at the screen in wonder. I was really horny from reliving that moment in the hotel, and he clearly was too.

I found myself blushing at some of the images, like those where my legs were spread with my fingers buried inside me. Tyler kept whispering in my ear, things like, "That's so hot Mom." He then ran a hand down my back and lifted my skirt before he eased his palm between my legs. He cupped my mound tightly, and then began stroking my pussy through my panties.

My breathing was ragged as we finally viewed the last shot. Tyler reached around me and clicked on the slideshow button, and slowly the pictures started scrolling on their own. My son dropped to his knees behind me, then pulled down my panties. He moved back up and said firmly, "Put your hands on the washer."

I did as was told, and then Tyler jerked my hips back and forced my legs apart. I heard his zipper being pulled down, so I knew what was about to happen. An instant later I felt the head of his hot cock rubbing back and forth over my dripping pussy lips. Bent over the way I was, he easily pressed himself forward into my fiery depths.

We both stared at the slideshow of my lewd images as he fucked me hard and fast. The washer began rocking as I pushed against it, propelled by Tyler's driving cock. I was afraid the laptop would fall and shatter, but by that point there was no way I could stop what we were doing. Being taken so forcefully in the home we'd shared for so many years was completely intoxicating, and I was lost in a sea of passion.

I remembered the one firm spank Tyler had delivered to my butt the last time he had me from behind, and wanted to experience that again. This time I was not shy asking for what I wanted. From somewhere deep inside me, I growled, "Spank me, baby."

Just seconds later I felt a sting on my right butt cheek, and I moaned, "Oh yes." The first slap was followed slowly by more, each one delivered with enough force to make me wince, yet not truly hurt. I roared out in excitement after every blow, loving the new feelings coursing through my body.

He then ran his other hand to my neck and grasped my hair, gently tugging my head back. Having my bottom spanked while my hair was being pulled set off shockwaves over every inch of my skin. I delighted in the way my body was being manipulated, so unlike anything I had grown accustomed to from my spouse over the years.

Tyler leaned in close to whisper in my ear, "You love this, don't you Mom?"

I could barely speak, but somehow hissed, "Yes."

My legs were weak and I bent into the washer for support, feeling just seconds away from an earth-shattering climax. Tyler must have been as close to orgasm as I was, because once more he grasped my hips and began fucking me harder than ever.

I fought to stifle a scream, but was unable to as I came hard on my son's wonderful prick, dreaming what our future together might hold. At that moment I knew I'd never win mother of the year, but I didn't care. My loving son was taking me to places I'd never been before, and there was no way I was ever going to deny him anything again.