Author's note: If you've read all of the preceding installments, you have my undying thanks. If not, you may be confused by some of the references to earlier. I have tried to make this chapter stand on its own, but some references can't be avoided. In any case, please leave a comment, good or bad. It's how I learn,
I was awake, if you want to call it that. My eyes refused to accept the notion, and though closed, the daylight still penetrated. Also, no mistaking the warmth from George's body reclining beside me, only the top sheet covering us. He stirred.
No more sleep for me! Flat on my back. Eyes opening slowly. Those soft greens brown eyes dreamily focused upon me, always a welcome sight; his head propped in his hand as lay on his side.
"Good morning, my love," he said, one hand tenderly pushing aside wayward strands of hair from my face.
"Good morning," I croaked, and swallowed, my throat dry.
"Sleep well?"
"Like a rock," I replied, my voice returning. "What time is it?"
"A little after nine. We've been out for ten hours, give or take."
"And you're not up yet?" I asked, surprised. Every other morning I'd awoken alone. Initially, it had been hard to accept, but taking the sum of things, I wasn't going to bitch about it.
"Well, after yesterday, I thought it best you didn't wake up alone."
Oh fuck! Yesterday. My sailing lesson, my mishap by the mast, piloting the boat topless, and then...the Rizzo brothers - bastards! George fending them off. Chuck making things right. Coming full circle with hasty, frenetic sex.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Everything just came flooding back. My god, what a day! But I'll be okay." I rolled to face him, draping my arm around his chest pulling myself closer. "And thanks for staying."
"Truth be told, I didn't want to be alone either."
"Coward!" I teased as I propped up on my elbows. "I don't suppose there's any coffee?"
"No, not yet."
I made a pouty face that quickly soured.
"What's the matter? I'll make the coffee, promise."
"Not that. Cum doesn't age well. Yuck!"
"I imagine not," he replied, licking his lips and mimicking my expression. "Tell you what. We'll both freshen up and make coffee together."
"Do I get breakfast too? I'm famished."
"You bet. I could eat a horse."
Faces scrubbed and minty fresh, we sat at the breakfast bar, wearing our robes. Naturally, I had donned my 'Naughty' one. The coffeemaker gurgled, its enticing aroma filled my nostrils.
Wordlessly waiting, neither of us in a mood to speak without a proper dose of caffeine. Or maybe we were unsure where to start a conversation. At last, it was delivered. Hot, strong and sweet.
"Let's go sit in the gazebo," George suggested and soon we were seated together, my gaze fixed on the steaming mug. Thoughts ricocheted in my head.
"The coffees good, but it can't be that fascinating. What's on your mind?" he asked.
"A squillion things. I wouldn't know where to start."
"Just say the first thing that comes to mind."
"Okay..." I began, trying to pluck one thought, "You said you gave Chuck a quick summary. Did you mention them - you know, the Rizzo brothers - looking at me in the bedroom window?"
"I couldn't exactly leave that out."
"I suppose not. Then what happened later wouldn't make sense, as much as you can make sense of it. Did you tell him it was accidentally on purpose?"
"Of course not. That's our secret."
"Thanks. I'd hate for Chuck to think...I precipitated the whole thing," I replied sadly, remorse taunting me.
"You didn't. But maybe we should be more surreptitious in the future. Yesterday was scary and I did promise not to put you in danger."
"For sure, and you did protect me, but, yeah, once was more than enough."
"That it was..." George said, taking his phone from his robe pocket.
"What are you doing?"
"I just realized I should text Chuck. You know, thank him again and let him know we're good."
"Yeah, that would be appropriate."
Upon sending the message, George set his phone on the table. Momentarily, it dinged, interrupting his next sip of coffee.
"That was quick," he said. "He's playing golf and wants to call when he finishes his round. Like eleven. That okay?"
"That works. Should give us time for breakfast."
"That it does," he replied, putting his phone down upon completing the response.
"So, how about some cheesy scrambled eggs and toast?" he offered.
"Perfect."
"Okay. You can relax and finish your coffee. I'll take care of it."
"Thanks. I'd better get my phone. I can't remember if we ever set a time to be at my parents."
"Yeah, that would be a good thing to know."
Sitting in the gazebo, watching through the windows as George busied himself in the kitchen, I scrolled through my messages. Nope, nothing about the time. A quick exchange confirmed we should arrive around three. Easy enough, but, shit, I owe Judy a call. Am I up for that? How much could I tell her?
I wouldn't be much of a friend if I dismissed my promise, so I dialed. After a few rings, she answered.
"Good morning, Linda," she answered brightly.
"Hi Judy. My, you're perky this morning."
"What can I say? Bob wore me out last night. Slept like a baby and now that I've had my coffee, I'm ready for more."
"Then I'll let you go..."
"Not on your life, missy. You've kept we waiting too long to get the tawdry details on your love life," she teased.
I could picture the glint in her eyes. Calling her was the right decision.
"It's been a few days since we chatted. Yesterday doesn't really count," I said, remembering our call where Judy disclosed my mom calling her to vet George.
"And with the warp speed of your relationship, there should be volumes to tell. But, first, how did things go with your mom?"
"That depends on which time I spoke with her. The first time was highly confrontational. The second one was peace making."
"The first one sounds juicy, so let's hear it."
I related the conversation, and outside of a few 'no way's' and 'holy shit's,' Judy listened raptly.
"Damn! That must have set her hair on fire," Judy said excitedly as I finished.
"What can I say? She got me wound up. Given how things have gone lately, I wasn't going to back down...Hold on a sec," I said as George appeared with a tray laden with our breakfast - orange juice, eggs and toast. "George just brought in breakfast. You don't mind if I eat while we talk, do you?"
"Sure, rub it in, you bitch. But, hey, if your man's gonna bring you breakfast, far be it from me to stop you."
"Thanks. So after I hung up from my mom, we went sailing, and that certainly took her off my mind," I said, shoveling in some eggs, secretly enjoying Judy's ignorance, while George ate silently, thoroughly amused.
"So, what kind of mischief did you get up to on the boat?"
Since I couldn't go into how it ended, I gave her the rest in detail, from the initial lessons, to falling on my ass and piloting topless. By the time I'd finished, my plate was empty.
"Oh, that's all?" Judy asked, I couldn't tell if she was impressed or disappointed.
"On the boat, yea. Once we docked, I came inside and called my mom while George tidied up the boat."
"So how was the second call?"
"Strange, but in a good way. In a nutshell, she admitted that what I'd told her was shocking, but she had decided let it go. She admitted I'm a grown woman now and just wants me to be happy."
"Damn, Linda. That's almost more unbelievable that what you told her earlier. I didn't think she'd come around so fast, if at all."
"I know, but what choice did she have? My father knows zip about our conversation and we're going up there this afternoon when they'll meet George for the first time."
"Wow! That should be interesting. Oh, to be a fly on the wall."
"I'm sure it will fine. George can be very charming, you know."
"I'm sure he will be. It's you I'm worried about."
"Me? I'll be a refined and courteous lady," I jested.
"We both know that's not true." Judy said, adding a quick laugh.
"For a few hours, I can fake it."
"That's more like it."
"Sorry, Judy, but I've gotta go. Lots to do before we head out," I said, realizing that Chuck would be calling shortly.
"Oh, that's right! You did make that promise to your mom."
"Judy!"
"You said it, not me."
"Touché. You take care of yourself, and we'll talk again soon. Oh, and don't forget about the eighteenth," I added, reminding her of the party George and I would be throwing.
"It's already on our calendar. Good luck this afternoon"
"Thanks. Bye."
"Bye, Linda."
"Well, that was fun," George said as soon as I disconnected.
"You heard all that?"
"For the most part," he replied, sheepishly grinning.
"Nothing you didn't already know."
"True, but do you think you can be a lady this afternoon?"
"I do. I'll bite my tongue should anything come up."
"I couldn't ask for more. I do want your parents to like me."
"Me too. So what do you say if I clean up breakfast. You did all the cooking."
"I'll give you a hand anyway. There's not much."
He was right. Everything went in the dishwasher, except the Teflon frypan and I made quick work of that. As I set it in the dishrack, George pressed up behind me, his hands slipping inside my robe and taking a breast in each hand. Planting soft kisses on my neck and pulling my robe open, his hands roamed freely between my boobs and pussy.
I sighed and leaned back against him, shuddering as his touch brought my nipples to life, my pussy yearning for more. Turning to face him, I pushed his robe open, pressing my flesh to his, a stiff cock pushing against my tummy.
He kissed me with the urgency I desired, his tongue forcefully entwining mine. Hands roaming, our pulses rising.
We both froze as his phone rang, its vibration against my thigh making me flinch
I whined as George left his lips pressed to mine and mumbled, "Should I get that?"
"I suppose you should," I replied as our lips disengaged.
"Yea, it's Chuck," he reported as he pulled the phone from his pocket and answered. "Hi, Chuck. Thanks for calling. How'd you hit 'em?"
I didn't catch the reply, but then George said, "I'm fine, but hold on. I'm going to put you on speaker."
"Okay...Hi Linda," came Chuck's voice. "How you holding up?"
"I'm good, thanks," I replied, hastily tying up my robe. I knew he couldn't see me, but I still felt better doing so. George winked and grinned.
"Excellent. I just wanted to be sure."
"I appreciate that," I replied. "And I just wanted to say again how much I, er...we wanted to thank you again for all you did yesterday."
"You're both welcome," said Chuck. "So now that you've had a chance to sleep on it, are there any more concerns?"
"Not from me," said George.
"Well..." I said, "as long as you asked, how did you get those guys to visit the Rizzo brothers so quickly?"
"They were on call. It was their turn for the holiday. Plus, I still have some pull from the old days."
"Fair enough, I suppose that also explains how you had that dirt on them," I said.
"A reasonable assumption, but there's no need to get down in the weeds on that stuff," Chuck advised, closing the door on that line of inquiry. "But if you've got the time, I've got an amusing tale on the Rizzo visit."
"Sure, we could use a laugh," replied George as he grinned and shrugged at me.
"I'll try to be brief," said Chuck. "So when Mutt and Jeff went to the Rizzo place, Tony's wife Annette answered the door. She advised that Tony had been in a boating accident and wasn't available. She's a skinny little thing and went white as a ghost after they showed her their ID's and told her that it was no boating accident. She showed them in and they met privately with Tony, whose face didn't look so good. He'll be sporting some well-deserved racoon eyes for a while. Anyway, they were sure she was listening in. Just as they left, she was reaming Tony a new one."
George and I both grinned broadly, and I chimed in, "Almost wish I could have seen it."
"Emphasis on almost," added George.
"Yeah, I hear you," said Chuck. "So, I'll let you go. Got any plans today?"
"Sure do..." I replied, giving George a conspiratorial grin, but just went with the basics, "I'm taking George to meet my parents."
"That'll be nice," Chuck responded. "Everybody loves George...except the Rizzo brothers."
I heard his guffaw as he rang off.
"That was worth answering," I stated, opening my robe once more. "But now, there's something I need you to do."
"Like keeping your promise to your mom, you naughty girl," George replied, pulling me to him, with both hands grasping my ass and kissing me deeply, as if the call from Chuck had never happened, and that was alright by me.
Without warning, he broke it off and swatted my ass.
"Get your ass upstairs bitch," he commanded, his tone demanding, but his expression playful.
George followed behind me as I rushed up the stairs and into the bedroom. Taking me by the hand he led me to the open closet, stopping in front of the full-length mirror, facing each other.
George shed his robe and placing his hands on my shoulders, slipped mine off, then pressed down on them.
"On your knees. Get my cock so wet it will slide right in your ass."
Oh! Another variation. Without hesitation, I dropped and took his hard cock in my mouth, sucking on the head. Damn, I loved the feel of the spongy nob against my lips and tongue, glancing at the mirror - his rod protruding from my mouth. How do I ever get all of that down my throat? Because I wanted it, needed it...all of it...and right now it belonged to me.
Working his cock deeper, I fucked him with my mouth, my hands on his hips, fingernails as talons, snagging my prey, imprisoning him in my throat. All the while glancing at my struggle with his shaft...and its surrender. Slowly withdrawing, gasping and taking it again. My spit rising, seeping from my lips, drowning my victim.
"Yes! You bitch," he seethed. "You need my cock in your ass, don't you?"
I receded, a tendril of saliva maintaining our connection, which I collected in my hand, slathering it back onto his straining cock. Rising slightly and my lips parting, more spit ran from my mouth, compounding the slickness in my hand. My eyes, wandering from the mirror and its intoxicating visage to his intense gaze, as my tongue slid along his length.
"You know I do," I replied, guttural with desire.
"And what do you want?" he snarled, seizing a handful of my hair.
"I want your cock in my ass!" I declared, more in surprise than pain that emphasized my desire.
I was momentarily confused as he stepped away and snatched several pillows from the bed, tossing them in front of the mirror.
"Just in case," he advised, retrieving the bottle of lube from the nightstand. "Now show me you're ready to give up your ass."
Not that I needed instruction, but this was intriguing. I knelt over the pile of pillows, facing the mirror, indulging in my reflection, leaning forward, my ass rising to greet him. I reached back, spreading my ass, while he got down behind me, his cock rigid and ready to take me. Damn, I loved how George intentionally brought my wanton vulnerability to the surface.
Despite my foreknowledge, the sudden pressure contorted my expression, my eyes widened, lips pursed. A sudden "Oh!" escaping as his cockhead invaded my rosebud.
"Mmm, so tight," he nearly whispered, ceasing his intrusion.
I said nothing. Looking up the mirror to his fixed gaze, I nodded.
Cautiously, he pressed forward, my face in deep concentration, my lips parting in a slow, deliberate exhale, relaxing to accept him.
"Oh, god," I elicited once his hips halted against me.
"Too much cock for your tight little ass?"
"Just enough," I sighed, finally accustomed to the violation, welcoming it.
"Ah," I yelped at a quick swat on my ass.
"And what do want?" he barked.
"I need you to fuck my ass."
Another rapid swat.
"Oh! Please fuck my ass!"
Knowing to start gently, he slowly withdrew, paused, and eased backed in.
I moaned and timed my breathing to his pace, exhaling with each insertion, reacting to the additional friction from using just spit...intense...excessively so.
"Honey," I interrupted, "could you add some lube, please?"
The cap snapped. A few cool drops encircled our union. Another snap.
"Mmm, so much better," I cooed as his cock readily slipped through my rosebud, working the tip in and out repeatedly, expanding me. No other contact, just his cock and my ass.
"Oh yeah...now you can tell your mom how much you like me fucking your tight ass," he grinned as I looked up at him, initially shocked by his remark, then realized he was only taunting my sensibilities - delightfully so.
"I couldn't" I replied keeping up the banter, while he didn't skip a beat. "That would be a lie."
"You...mean...you...don't...love...it...in...the...ass," deliberately plunging into me with each word.
"Oh...oh...I...do...but...I'm...not...tight...now" came my reply in the same manner. Leaning forward, I disengaged from him. Readjusting my grip, I spread my cheeks even further, turning my head, our eyes locked in passion, as cool air replaced his hot cock - gratifying confirmation of my indecent display.
"Damn, look at that naughty gaping ass."
"Then fuck me," I pleaded. "Fuck my naughty ass!"
"So you can tell your mom how much you love my greasy cock stretching your naughty ass?" he demanded with a slap to my ass.
"Yes!" I shot back as he teased my rose bud with tip of his cock, feeding my desire as his words echoed in my mind. "Damn it! I love your big cock stretching my ass!"
He abruptly rammed his cock in me, slowly withdrawing and reentering rapidly. Repeatedly.
"Take my cock, you naughty girl"
"Yes, fuck my ass! Make me your naughty...naughty...naughty...girl"
My climax was as stunning as it was unexpected. My hands jerked from my ass, my forearms bracing on the floor as I pushed back to meet him.
"Oh fuck! Yes!" I wailed, my entire being aquiver.
"Yeah, cum for me bitch!" he hissed as his hands grabbed my shoulders, leveraging his hips for maximum penetration. With one final thrust, he impaled me deeply, his cock throbbing and twitching, filling my ass with cum.
Hot, heavy breath whirled about my neck as he collapsed on top of me, sweat accumulating between us. Tacky skin adhering when our ragged breathing separated us in the aftermath of chaotic union.
As my head cleared, George removed the weight of his chest, supported by his arms, emphasizing the pressure of his hips.
"Hot damn! You really are something," he said as our eyes met in the mirror.
"Yeah...that's never happened before."
"What's never happened?"
"I never climaxed like that, you know...without touching myself," I confessed, looking away momentarily, my emotions caught between pride and self-consciousness at the revelation.
He moaned, replying, "First time for everything, but nothing to be embarrassed about."
His cock still pulsed within me. I contracted my cheeks to squeeze his cock - embracing my accomplishment, banishing any shame.
"I guess not, but it was, I don't know...different," I confessed. "I'm not sure how to describe it...more mental than physical. Not that it wasn't physical."
"You know what they say."
"No, what?" My eyes returned to his.
"The brain is the biggest sex organ," he replied, grinning once more, as his softening cock was expelled.
"You must have a really big brain."
"I do," he agreed with a quick snigger, rising slightly, sliding his tongue down my spine to the cleft of my ass.
I shivered from head to toe, giggling slightly, my nerves still sparking.
I turned my shoulders, looking at him directly. "Not to change the subject, but what time is it?"
George squinted at the clock on the nightstand. "A little after one. Why?"
"We're due at my parents at three, so we'll have to leave around two-fifteen. That's all. But right now, you've got to let me up." Adding an unnecessarily modest, "I gotta go."
"I won't stand in your way," George said, rising by my shoulders and bending to offer a hand up.
Unsteadily, I walked to the bath and heard, "I'll tidy up," just as I closed the bathroom door. Damn, it felt good to have a seat.
I dealt with the 'collateral damage,' as I now euphemistically called it. Why was I so secretive about it? Not like George didn't know. But somewhere inside me, I didn't want to spoil the romance, or lose my mystique. Mystique, ha! That man read me like a book. It probably bothers me more than him - but he hadn't just had a jigger of cum shot up his ass either.
At least that's over. Time to get cleaned up. Turn on both showers. He should be here soon. The cascade of hot water soothed the tension loitering in my muscles.
George joined me a several minutes later.
"I'd have been here sooner, but it needed more than just tidying," he said, then answered my quizzical expression, "Fresh pillowcases."
I snorted and plunged my head under the water. Once again, collateral damage pierced my thoughts.
Wrapped in towels, we stood at our own sink of the vanity. Freshly shaved, with just a whisper of cologne coming my way, George combed his hair and brushed his teeth. Bang, zoom! He was done.
On the other hand, I struggled. I hadn't given my hair any proper care since...what? Friday. Yup, Friday. Starting at the ends, I gingerly combed out the tangles, wincing at the more troublesome ones.
"What?" I asked testily, miffed by his sappy expression, as he casually leaned his butt against the vanity.
"Nothing. I just like looking at you. Can't a guy enjoy the sight of the woman he loves?"
"This is hardly my finest hour."
"That's what makes it endearing."
"Are you trying to sweet-talk me?"
"You mean it's not working?"
"I prefer my masochism in solitude...now go get dressed."
George hung up his towel and left. A pang of remorse flickered. Was I overly cross with him? I hope not.
Birds' nests removed from my now blown dry hair, I entered the bedroom naked to find George dressed in pale cream shorts and a black polo, barefoot and sitting in one of the chairs by the window.
"Now there's a sight for sore eyes," he said cheerfully.
"Sorry that I snapped at you in there."
"I probably deserved it," he confessed, "no need to apologize. But now, if I'm not mistaken, it appears you developed a tan line."
Looking down, indeed there was a slight demarcation, a reminder of my bikini bottom that, to my delight, emphasized my smooth pussy.
"You're right. Thank goodness it's not sunburn."
"True that," he said, "and I find it very alluring."
"You're just easily allured," I quipped, "but it does add a certain emphasis."
"And I know how you like being...emphasized."
I couldn't suppress a smile. "Never could fool you, could I?"
"Would you want to?"
"Of course not," I answered as my mind shifted gears to my outfit. "Would it be okay if I wear underwear today?"
"I'll meet you half way. Bra, yes. No panties. I'll leave the skirt to you."
"Oh, you're going to make me naughty at my parents?"
"We'll be the only ones who know."
"True. Secretly naughty. I kind of like that."
"I figured you would," he said, giving me a wink.
"Yeah, just one of the things I love about you."
"We do like our conspiracies, don't we?"
"Indeed," I confirmed, adding rhetorically, "Now what to wear?"
After much poking in the closet, I settled on a red sleeveless blouse and knee length denim skirt. A red (and rather bland) bra and black ballet flats completed the outfit. Of course, George watched the process with great amusement, particularly my examination after I'd dressed, twisting and turning in front of the mirror, making sure the skirt wasn't too short. After a quick, light application of makeup, I pronounced that I was ready to go - all with five minutes to spare.
Once we were in the car, I gave George the general directions to my parents' house.
"Nervous?" he asked as he pulled onto the main road.
"A little. I know my mom and I patched things up, but some things can't be unsaid."
"She's probably feeling the same way. It'll be fine."
"I hope so, but not wearing panties isn't helping."
"You'll survive. Presuming you don't plan on doing cartwheels, of course," he teased.
"I hadn't planned on it," I smiled, once again his humor put me at ease.
"Yeah, that can wait til we get home. Anything I should know? Subjects to avoid or hot button issues?"
"Not that I'm aware of. They're pretty middle of the road, slightly conservative maybe. They're not drinking anyone's Kool-Aid, if that's what you mean."
"Pretty much. So just a typical family."
"That's about right."
"Just a mom and dad whose little girl just went off to school in her Mary Janes."
"Oh, please! I haven't worn those in ages."
"But it gives me an idea," he said turning to me with a devious twinkle in his eyes.
"Something tells me this won't be innocent."
"Oh but it will. I can just see you in a white cotton blouse, tartan skirt, frilly white ankle socks and classic Mary Janes. Your hair in braids."
"I do have the blouse and skirt..."
"Somehow, that's not surprising. I'm sure you can procure the rest."
"So, it's up to me?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
"I trust your capabilities."
"Then what?"
"Then you can be the naughty little schoolgirl who just happened forgot to put on her underwear."
"Let me guess...You'll be the strict school master," I said, warming to the idea.
"Of course. And, hmm...I'll put on a suit and tie. We can go out to dinner. Make a night of it."
"As long as I can wear a blazer or cardigan. Those blouses are kind of thin for going out."
"And really completes the outfit."
"Just one more thing."
"You're awfully demanding for a naughty schoolgirl," he teasingly reprimanded, setting off snippets of scenarios in my mind and recalling the fun we'd had in our role playing from Friday night.
"Earth to Linda. Earth to Linda," he joked.
"Oh, sorry. You got my mind wandering."
"In a good way?"
"A very good way, but I'm not going to tell you," I said, his expression anticipation tinged with disappointment, but pleased as well. Finally, it was my turn to keep him on edge. "But as I was about to say, can we go somewhere no one I know would see us?"
"Sure. Sounds like something you'd like to add to our road trip."
"Oh, that's perfect. Sounds like I've got some planning to do as well," I said, as our eyes met, happily sharing the suspense, but it was transitory. "Oh shit! Make the next right."
His eyes quickly scanned the mirrors, braking hard, he readily made the turn.
"Sorry about that," I said. "Their street is the third left up ahead."
"It happens. My mind was doing somersaults too."
After he made the next turn, I said, "Just ahead. Number three fifteen. You can park in the driveway."
Nothing had really changed since I'd moved out. My parents always took pride in the natural cedar shake cape cod with white trim and evergreen shutters. Lawn neatly trimmed; yellow and orange marigolds lined the short sidewalk leading from the driveway to the front steps.
"Nice," was all George said as I led him to the front door.
Before I could knock, the door opened, revealing my mother with my father behind her. They're both short, my mom, thin as ever, barely making five feet, my dad a head taller, his stocky frame the result of his trade. Much as I expected, she wore chinos and a long sleeve blouse, in a muted pink and purple plaid this time. And her favorite footwear, penny loafers. Her narrow, pale face underneath short silver hair. I wondered if I'd inherit it. I could live with that.
Thank goodness my boobs came from the other end of the gene pool.
My dad's 'farmer's tan' stood in stark contrast to my mom's complexion. His hair, formerly dark brown, was now salt and pepper, thick and wavy. Or maybe I had his hair? Denim shorts, a red polo and leather sandals confirmed their predictability.
"Linda, it's so good to see you," she beamed excessively and, after a quick hug, passed me to my father, whose hug was less brief. "You must be George! So nice to finally meet you."
She hugged him before he cleared the threshold. Now that was not predictable. What was with her? Overcompensating maybe?
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you too Mrs. Huggins," George said once he'd escaped.
"None of that. You'll make me feel old. Please call me Marge," she grinned and stepped back. "This is my husband, Jim."
"A pleasure to meet you too, Mist...I mean Jim," said George as they shook hands.
"Sorry about my wife, George. She's been counting every minute since she and Linda set the date."
"It's quite alright. I appreciate the warm welcome, thanks."
So far so good. At least my dad was acting normally, and I knew I could count on George to be gracious.
"So, now that the formalities are over, come on in," dad said warmly, gesturing us inside.
"You've got a lovely home," said George as he took in the brick fireplace and wood mantle on the right. A sofa lay straight ahead in front of a half wall separating the space from the dining room beyond, while two recliners faced the fireplace.
Dad led us past the dining space and into the kitchen with its butcher block countertops, apron front sink beneath an awning window, dated white cabinetry and wrought iron hardware, all exuding country farmhouse. I'm sure my dad wanted it to remind him of Vermont. A small breakfast table with three chairs stood against a wall with a large passthrough to the dining room. A narrow prep table separated the sink from the fridge opposing it.
"So, George," my dad started, "how about a drink? We've got gin or vodka with tonic unless you'd like a beer."
"A gin and tonic would be perfect, thanks," George confirmed.
"Coming right up. Ladies, I presume vodka tonics for you."
"Sure, thanks, dad," I replied. My mom simply nodded.
As my dad mixed the cocktails, my mom asked, "Linda, I could use a little help finishing up the food. You don't mind lending a hand, do you dear?"
"I suppose...I was hoping we could all talk. Together, you know."
"There'll be time for that. Why don't Jim and George sit out on the deck and get to know each other?"
I was disturbed by my mother's suggestion. Did she have some plan in mind, had she not truly forgiven yesterday's conversation or was I just being paranoid?
Sensing my discomfort, George graciously said, "Sure, that works. I'm sure you won't be long."
"Okay," I said calmly, having been saved from starting off on the wrong foot.
George and my dad took their drinks to the deck, exiting through the back door at the near corner of the dining room.
"Would you mind shredding some cabbage for the Cole slaw?" requested my mom.
"Sure."
I remained suspicious because my mom normally had everything ready before company arrived. However, I wasn't going to make an issue of it. Whatever she was planning, I'd let it play out. My underlying concern was that she would be offering her critique of my new lifestyle.
Having made cole slaw many times, I knew I'd find the cabbage in the fridge and set it on the prep table. Taking a serrated knife, I sliced it in half and started shredding. Yeah, I was killing time, but I wanted to give my mom a chance to get to the point, whatever it might be. She didn't take the bait and started making the dressing instead. How long could this go on? More minutes than I dared to count apparently.
"I had my first sailing lesson with George yesterday," I half blurted out, finding the awkward silence unbearable.
"How did that go?"
"I was intimidated at first. As you know, I've never been sailing before and there's a special vernacular to learn along with the general concept. But George was a patient instructor, so at least I gained some basic competency."
"That's nice."
Normally, my mom is talkative, so my anxiety level gained altitude.
"You want to see a picture? I think George texted one to my phone."
"Okay," she replied flatly.
"Let me get my phone," I said, retrieving it from my purse which I'd left by the front door and making sure I pulled up the right photo. I still had some other ones that mom sure as hell didn't need to see.
"Here. See. That's me piloting his boat."
There I was. Stupid satisfied grin, hat, sunglasses, and tee shirt. Hands on the wheel. A bit of the mainsail overhead with the deep green of the bay behind me.
"Well, aren't you the nautical one," she commented.
"Thanks," I said, resuming my shredding duty.
Uh-oh, I thought as I noticed my mom had nearly finished her drink. Normally, she'd nurse it til mealtime. Something was definitely off.
"Anyway," I started, "It was a thrilling experience with only the wind propelling us, but at the same time peaceful and relaxing."
Damn, I'm no good at making small talk. Or monologue, more like.
"It sounds lovely, dear."
Thank god my dad came back in the house with two empty glasses.
"Anyone need a refill?" he asked.
"I'm good," I replied.
"I could use another," said my mom.
Holy crap!
"George seems like a great guy, Linda," my father reported as he took care of the drinks. "Hard working. Obviously, he's smart, with all those degrees he's got, but he's really down to earth and hasn't let success go to his head."
"I'm glad you like him," I said, relieved, not so much at his comment, but that he'd broken the tension that filled the room.
"Her you go," he continued, as he handed a glass to my mom, sliding his hand across her butt and giving her a peck on the cheek before picking up the remaining drinks and heading back to the deck.
"We'll be out soon," said mom.
"Take your time. At least George isn't a Cowboy fan," he replied with a broad smile. Oh, yeah, Dad bleeds Giants blue.
"They seem to be really hitting it off," mom commented blandly as she stood beside me.
"I know. That's a relief and dad's in a really good mood."
"Well, I suppose that's my fault," mom added sheepishly and taking a long pull from her drink.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked and paused shredding.
"It's kind of a long story, but you have to promise not to tell a soul," she said softly, nearly whispering.
"Oh, so that's what's got you so distracted. I was wondering why you'd barely said a word, but, sure, I can keep a secret."
"And that means George too. Yesterday you said you tell him everything."
"Okay, promise."
"Now, I suppose you're wondering why I suggested George and your father have their own chat."
Mom took another healthy sip.
"That did seem odd," I confirmed, setting down the knife. Multitasking at this point seemed dangerous.
"After my screw up. I thought it best they get to know each other without me around."
"How'd you convince dad of that?"
"To be honest I didn't want to be in the way, because this morning I told Jim about my snooping."
"Oh?" I said. "I thought you weren't going to."
"I just couldn't hold it in any longer. We were sitting right here at the kitchen table having coffee in our pj's when I decided to tell him. Well not everything, particularly not what you'd been up to. I stuck to my call with Judy, your finding out and being very upset about it. I was worried you might not have totally forgiven me despite our second call. Things could be tense, so I should talk to you and make sure everything was okay."
"How'd he take it?"
"Not like I expected, to say the least."
"So what happened?"
"He said it was a terrible thing to do - meddling in your affairs and treating you like a child. Particularly because I'd previously told him how much you liked George and how happy you were. But what really surprised me is that he pushed his chair back and had me lay across his lap, face down. Then he flipped up my nightgown, pulled down my panties, called me a bad mommy and spanked me."
"Holy crap, mom! I thought you were acting weird because you hadn't forgiven me," I said, my head spinning at the revelation - first that my dad would do it, but more so that mom would allow it.
"Hardly. I was mortified at first, but he was emphatic that I needed to do my penance. Then the strangest thing happened. I'm not sure which was first, but I could feel your father's erection pushing against my tummy and I was grinding myself on his knee."
Mom finished her drink, emphatically setting the glass on the prep table. No wonder she had a second.
"Are you sure you want to tell me this?" I protested, hoping she'd take the out I'd given her.
"As you said, payback's a bitch," she said, and continued, anxiously rushing her words. "Anyway, he kept spanking me, calling me a bad mommy and before I knew it, I was climaxing. I was so turned on that I got on my knees and performed oral sex on him. Not that I hadn't done it before, but this was the first time I...well let's just say there was a happy ending in my mouth. Then, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't just spit it on the nice clean floor, so I swallowed it. It doesn't taste very good does it?"
I was gob smacked. Had mom just said all that? She'd only ever given me sterile, rudimentary explanations on sex when I was the appropriate age. Then her question finally penetrated my shock.
"Not really. Kind of salty, but I don't mind."
"Gross, if you ask me."
"It's unique alright. But at least I understand why dad is in such a good mood. Just one more thing...why did you need to tell me this?"
"I hadn't really planned on it. Mostly I just wanted you to know that I'd told your father about upsetting you, but once I started, it just poured out. I had to tell someone or I'd explode," she confessed. "I believe I understand you better now...What can I say? I might even be a little jealous."
"Jealous? Of what?"
"Yeah, jealous. Obviously, everyone can see you're happy, but what struck me is how confident you are now. I want that too."
"Umm...okay, but I don't know what to say."
"I understand," she said, lightly resting her hand on my shoulder, "the whole day has been a whirlwind and my mind is racing."
"I know that feeling. Boy, do I know that feeling," I replied as we exchanged smiles and my brain played flashcards of my life since meeting George, right up to standing next to her with my smooth pussy on display under my skirt.
"Can't say I'm surprised," she confessed. "Just one more thing, if you don't mind."
"As long as we can wrap this up. I don't want George to feel abandoned."
"Did you?" she asked.
"Did I what?"
"You know, what you said you'd do this morning."
"Oh, that. Yes," I confirmed, but I was not about to go into details. My downcast eyes indicated as much, or so I hoped.
"Tell me. What's it like?"
"I'm not saying it's for everybody. It's not easy at first. Consult the internet if you're curious," I said. The last thing I wanted was to discuss the nuances of anal sex with my mom and how George had invoked her name earlier this morning, so I tried to deflect. "Just one piece of advice. Lubricant."
"Yeah, that makes sense. Now, since we're on a new plane of understanding...the thing is...I want be a bad mommy again...and maybe experiment, so...any suggestions?"
"Jesus, Mom! What I said to you on the phone was only because I was pissed off. Under ordinary circumstances I never would have...even though it was all true."
"I know that! But is there more?"
"Yes. A lot more, but I..."
"Didn't we agree that you could tell me anything?"
"Yes, we did, but you've got to understand what works for me won't necessarily work for you."
"Fair enough, but you never can tell...I want to try new things and...see that bounce in his step more often, but I don't know where to start...Maybe you can give me some pointers."
"Can't you talk to one of your friends about this? You know, someone...more your own age."
"We never discuss things like that. Besides, who better than my own daughter? Haven't we already crossed that line?"
"Well," I said, stalling for time. Damn she was persistent, so if she wanted it, I might as well let her have it. "If you want to see that bounce, get used to swallowing."
"I suppose I can...but perhaps something else?"
"Mom! This can't be about what I've done. It's got to be what you want."
"But I don't know where to start!" she exclaimed, clearly desperate.
"Alright, alright. But let's talk about you not me."
"Okay," she agreed, albeit reluctantly.
"Just as a point of reference, even though George pushed my boundaries, the truth is, I wanted him to."
"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" she blurted out.
"Then you'll have to figure out what you want. You want to be a bad mommy again, right?"
"Yes," she said, turning away and blushing.
"Well then create other circumstances where you can confess to being a bad mommy."
"Like?"
"You know dad better than me in that regard," I started. "But you could try neglecting a minor housework chore...burn his toast...whatever. It doesn't have to be anything major. Just tell him how you've been bad. I'm sure he can pick up the cue."
"Good idea, and it's worth trying, but what about something else?"
"Quit beating around the bush mom! Just fucking tell me."
"Sorry, this is hard for me. I'm not looking for an argument," she said, adding meekly, "I'm asking for your help."
"You think this is easy for me? But perhaps you should have led with that," I comforted, her request summoning my sympathy.
"Okay," she finally conceded, adding very quietly, "What I really want is oral sex, but on me."
"Really, that's all? That wasn't so bad to tell me, now, was it?"
"I suppose not." She relaxed, now that the pussy was out of the bag, so to speak. "The thing is I really like it, but don't get it often enough. Hardly ever. And not in a long time."
"Can't say I blame you. I love it. There are a couple of things you could try, but it means taking the initiative. How can he know what you want if you don't tell him? Or better yet, show him."
"Show him?"
"Yes. You'll probably find it embarrassing. But if you truly want it, you'll have to step outside of your comfort zone."
"I already did that this morning, so what do you mean?"
"Present yourself, but graphically, crudely, with words to match. Masturbate in front of him. Ask him if he likes what he sees."
"I don't know if I could do that."
"You asked for my help. I can only give it from my experience. "
"So, you've done that?"
"Yes." Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. "Granted, George instigated it. In your case, you'll have to be the instigator. But it's so worth it."
"And he..."
"Oh yeah. Very enthusiastically, but that may be because..." I stopped myself. Damn it, I didn't mean to divulge so much.
"None of that! You can't hold back on me now."
"I got a Brazilian wax," I whispered.
"What?" she asked, but I didn't know if she was shocked or ignorant.
"It's when..."
"I know what it is," she said with some condescension.
"Sorry, I wasn't sure if you did."
"That's okay, dear. I didn't mean to...I presume this was his idea?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"I had my reservations. It isn't the most pleasant experience when you consider what happens."
"I imagine so. Sounds painful."
"But bearable...and oh so worth it."
"Really? Should I? "
"That's not my call. It's such a personal decision. But it's not as uncommon as you might think."
"How do you know?"
"Just trust me on this, although that may apply more to my generation. I'm hardly an expert," I deflected. No way was I going down the road of our picture posting or that Judy was a devotee as well.
"I'll take your word...On all of it."
"Like I said. It's up to you, but one thing is certain in this world. If you don't ask for something, you won't get it."
She just looked at me pensively. Was she digesting my disclosures or in shock? Then she just nodded and smiled mischievously. "Looks like I've got some decisions to make," she concluded and gave me an unexpected hug. "That's enough - for now. Thanks for the talk."
"What? I don't recall we discussed anything," I concluded with a wink.
But did she actually plan on comparing notes at a later time? Who was this doppelganger before me? Once was enough if you ask me. If there is a next time, at least I'll be better prepared,
"Right," she said decisively. "What you say we get this cole slaw put together so we can join Jim and George?"
We made short work of it, and I followed my coconspirator out to the deck.
Relieved of her burden, mom was her old self again, and we had a great time, with George recounting an amusing G-rated version of our day sailing, including falling on my ass, just in this version I was still in my bathing suit. That I wore a bikini wasn't mentioned. Bless you, George.
However, I did catch mom looking at dad curiously, averting her eyes when I caught her, confirming the impure thoughts she must be having. Thankfully, George and dad were oblivious, while I amused myself by wondering how long dad would remain in the dark.
Dad cooked hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill, while mom provided her usual sides of baked beans, deviled eggs and slaw. For dessert, she made one of my childhood favorites, rice pudding to accompany the coffee. By the time we'd finished eating and talking, the sun had already set, so we said our goodbyes and headed home.
We had barely made it out of the driveway when I asked, "So?"
"They're really nice. I had a good chat with Jim. I think he likes me. But mostly it was great to see a couple so happy after about 30 years of marriage. What do you think?"
"I know they both like you," I said, letting the happily married remark slide. "They wouldn't have talked so much if they didn't. And thanks for being so polite to them."
"That was easy. Like I said, they're good people. So what did you and your mom talk about?"
"Sorry, I'm sworn to secrecy."
"Really?"
"Really. Let's just say she told me something about her and dad that made my ears burn - that's why dad was in such a good mood. She's never opened up to me like that before, but it made us closer, like she understands me better."
"Like you're not her little girl anymore?" he asked.
"Something like that. Maybe she's not one anymore either."
"Huh?"
"Like I said, it's a secret."
"Must be one hell of a secret."
"A whopper. Made my going pantiless seem tame. I never expected that they'd stray beyond vanilla."
"Okay, whatever it is, I'm just glad to know you two came to an understanding."
"Me too."
"And speaking of pantiless..."
"This should be a fun drive," I said as I raised my skirt.
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