A moist tongue-tip flicked teasingly against Neal's ear. He swatted at it as if it were a fly.
Kari laughed, "Come on, don't go to sleep on me."
"Leave me alone, girl," he moaned. "That was terrific. Now all I want to do is just lay here."
"I know," she kissed his cheek. "But I don't think your mother would like it if you didn't pick her up at the airport." His drowsy eyes opened and he rolled to his back staring up at the beautiful blonde beside him. "Your cheeks get this blushing glow after we make love. Did you know that?"
"So do yours," her fingertips brushed over his cheeks. "Come on, Red Cheeks. We've got to get a move on."
"What time is it?" he groaned in protest.
"Exactly one hour before you mother's flight arrives," Kari smiled.
"It'll only take a half hour to drive out to the airport," he answered.
"But we've got to get cleaned up," she nudged him with a hand. "I don't think your mother would understand us greeting her plane in the Dude."
"Don't think the airport fuzz would be too understanding either," he grinned. "Okay, you win. Let's take a shower together."
"All right, you're on," she nodded as she stood. "But remember, we're taking a shower and we don't have time for anything else."
Reluctantly, he agreed.
Showers had never been so much fun. Despite the restriction he had agreed to, it didn't hamper him from bathing that voluptuous body of Kari's, or enjoying the sensations of her hands on his body when she returned the favor. Somehow they forced themselves to interrupt the delightfully different method of bathing they had discovered and stepped from the shower. Toweling each other dry, they quickly dressed and hurried to Neal's car with less than twenty minutes before Marta Winter's flight arrived.
The quilt-work patterns below slowly took the forms of farm fields and roads, as Marta Winter gazed from the jet's window. If she strained her eyes toward the front of the plane she could barely make out the outlines of the town they were approaching.
Home, she sighed to herself with a mixture of comfort and regret. The comfort made her feel all warm inside; the regret brought a flush of guilt to her face.
Each year since her husband's death, she had grown to look forward to this yearly trip to Chicago for the fashion convention. The city gave her a freedom she could never find at home. What with raising a son and her work at the department store, she rarely found time for herself. But while at the convention, she was on her own. She wasn't absolutely free of her responsibilities, but after the required work she had time to herself. And that time usually was taken up by men. Perhaps a salesman she had met at the convention, or perhaps someone in the hotel bar.
She wasn't the type of woman a man could normally pick up and the type of man she attracted usually wasn't looking for a pick-up. Whatever happened just happened. This time it had been a young college professor driving cross-country to a new position at a small school out west. His first name had been Jeff. She had never learned his last, even though he stayed over in Chicago three days to continue what had started to be a one night fling.
Not at all the Marta Winter when she arrived home-the prim and oh-so-proper Marta Winter. She had to be. In a small, Midwest town, the atmosphere was too conservative for her to exist any other way. Even to date men caused rumors and going to bed with one would be her ruin. "Loose women" weren't suitable employees. At home, she had a job and a son to protect. So men and sex were neatly tucked away until next year's conventions and she was out from under the eyes of the town's hypocritical moralists and gossips.
This year would be harder to forget. Jeff had re-taught her the desires of the flesh. Young and virile, he knew her better than she knew herself. He was without inhibitions and had no hang ups about his male ego. For four nights, he had awakened and satisfied every yearning within her. Jeff would definitely be hard to forget. Not that she wanted to forget him, but she would out of necessity.
The warning light flashed on above her and she fastened her seat belt. Glancing out the window, she watched the runway and ground come up at her. The plane jolted and bounced again before getting all its wheels on the ground. Then there was the sharp breaking and the taxiing to the terminal building. With one sigh of regret, the last she would allow herself, she rose from her seat as the departure ramp was pushed against the plane, then rose from her seat and exited-the prim and proper Marta Winter once again.
Neal and his latest girl friend, Kari Mason, were there waiting for her as she walked into the terminal. There were the usual welcome home kisses on the cheek and a quick barrage of trivial occurrences during her week's absence. No major problems, but she expected that. Neal knew how to handle himself. Even if there had been problems, he would have made them sound minor.
"… and Kari and I have planned a little get-together for tonight," Neal explained, as he swung her baggage into the trunk of the car.
"Oh, Neal," Marta frowned. "You know I'll want to rest after my trip."
"I know," he answered, opening the door for her and allowing her to slip into the back seat, while Kari scooted in beside the driver's seat. "That's why we fixed everything up. You don't have to do anything, except sit back and relax."
"I don't know," Marta pondered the proposal. "Just don't know if I feel up to it."
"C'mon," Neal urged her. "It'll just be Mitch, Janice, Kari, you and me. Nothing big or nothing fancy."
"Let me think about it," she answered.
"Okay," he nodded. "But let me warn you, neither of us will take no for an answer."
She really didn't feel like the dinner her son had planned. Today was Saturday and tomorrow Sunday. She wanted to lock herself away in her own house and prepare herself to face her job and the town on Monday. She had to have a bit of time to get herself together again-time to neatly file away the memories she had collected this past week.
Her eyes drifted to the passing town outside. She suppressed a shiver. It wasn't that she hated the town; she just felt trapped here. More than once, she had considered moving away and finding some job in the city. But the job situation wasn't right for that and, she admitted to herself, there was security here. She did own their house and she had lived here for the majority of her adult life. If only the town were larger. If only everybody didn't know everybody else, then…
"Here we are," Neal announced, as he cut into their driveway. "Go on in. Kari and I will get your suitcases."
With a smile, she opened her door and slid out. The front door to the house was open. She'd have to warn Neal about that again. Or was she just being paranoid I A week in the city can do that to someone from a small town. The crime headlines splattered throughout the newspapers for the past week had been frightening, especially when the headlines of the hometown weekly usually dealt with Friday night's high school football game.
Home again, home again, Marta smiled to herself as she stepped into the living room, breathing in deeply. Sex!
The room smelled of sex. She shook her head. The week had gotten to her. Now her imagination was playing tricks to taunt her. She inhaled again. The musky, arousing odor was still there, lingering in the room-the smell of sex.
She glanced around. The living room looked normal, no disarrayed cushions on the sofa. Her eyes were suddenly drawn to a small, dark spot on the carpet. She hadn't remembered it being there before. A cigarette burn I But neither Neal nor she smoked. Perhaps one of Neal's friends had been over and accidentally dropped a cigarette.
Walking over to the spot near the foot of the couch, she knelt. Whatever it was it wasn't a burn. The spot was wet and glistened. Reaching out, she touched it with a forefinger, shivering as she recognized its slippery viscosity. Unwilling to believe what was running through her mind, she raised her finger under her nose. The scent was that of a man-the seed of a man's loins.
She rose and sat of the couch. Neal… and Kari? There could be no other answer. The two of them had made love in this room-this floor. And no more than hour or so ago.
"Want me to put these things in your room?" Neal suddenly interrupted her thoughts as he walked through the front door with Kari at his side.
She nodded.
"I've got to go now, Neal," Kari turned to her son. "We'll see you about six tonight?"
"Right. I'll talk Marta into it," her son answered, leaning forward to give the blonde a kiss, then suddenly pulling away as he remembered his mother was present.
The action didn't go unnoticed, nor did Marta overlook the quick squeeze Kari gave Neal's hand before she turned and left. Neal's gaze followed the girl for a moment or two, then he lifted her bags once again and carried them to her room.
"I think I'll lie down and take a little nap," she said as she followed him into the bedroom.
"Okay," he smiled. "Get rested up for tonight."
"I haven't said there was going to be a tonight yet," she answered. "I'll let you know later,"
"Yes, ma'am," he grinned. "Just in case, I'll go ahead and finish getting things ready."
"Get out of here," she laughed, closing the door behind him.
Neal and Kari, the thought kept running over in her mind. Like all mothers, she hadn't noticed that her son had become a man. But he had and quite a handsome one at that. Even with his long brown hair, he still reminded her of her husband. Neal had his father's muscular build and dark features. He even had that little crooked smile that had meant all sorts of things to her young heart the first time she had seen her husband's smile.
He also has his father's taste for bosomy women, she smiled as she paused to admire the jutting forms of her own breasts before her dresser mirror.
And Kari was definitely well endowed with the attributes that would draw the eye of any second-story man. She could easily visualize her son's hands moving over those melon-like orbs of flesh. She could see the sparkling delight in his dark brown eyes as he leaned to kiss and suck at one of Kari's stiff, young nipples.
Suddenly her thoughts jolted her. She should be reacting totally differently. Instead of that protective feeling she had thought she would feel at this moment, she found the thought of her son balling the young blonde sexy, very sexy!
You ought to be ashamed of yourself, she reprimanded herself. But she only smiled as she pulled off her dress and undergarments, then lay naked on top of the bed. I wonder if Neal inherited his father's abilities to please a woman?
Kari didn't seem to be wearing any traces of disappointment, she remembered the girl's smiling face. She glanced up to the ceiling, seeing the blonde naked and lying on her back on the living room floor. She was posed with thighs wide, exposing the moist cleft of her young pussy. Neal, as naked as the girl, stood above her, his young cock shafted from his hairy groin, jerking and twitching with its youthful vitality. And at the very tip of his swollen glans welled a clear drop of preseminal fluid.
While she watched through her mind's eye, her son slowly drifted to his knees. The blonde reached up and lovingly caressed the rigid pole of his manhood. She tugged lightly at his prick, easing him atop her. Her eager fingers guided the turgid crown of sex toward the waiting lips of her willing cunt.
Stop it! she ordered herself, rolling to her side. You're back home now. You've got to get sex off you mind!
She closed her eyes and held them tightly closed for several seconds, erasing the last vestiges of her vision. She had no right even to imagine her son's sexual activities. He was a young man now. What Neal did was his business, not hers.
Her eyes opened and she stared at herself in the dresser's mirror. Her thirty-eight years didn't show on the supple, naked woman she gazed at. She admitted there was a slight sag to the ball-like shapes of her breasts that hadn't been there ten years ago. But there wasn't half as much droop to her tits as with all the young girls who ran around braless today. In fact, the slight pendulous drift of her breasts seemed to make them that much more bouncy and swaying. They were still firm and proud and their dark nipples still were uptilted.
She had kept her figure too. Unlike many of the women her age, she had carefully watched the calories and maintained a schedule of light exercise to work off any excess weight. Her stomach was taut and flat. And her legs were still shapely. It was a body that could still attract young men. Jeff had proven that. He had thought she was no more than twenty-five. She wondered what he would have done if he had realized she was thirteen years older than him.
Still the body of a young woman, she repeated to herself, still the desires of a young woman.
As she admired her own lithe form in the mirror, her imagination began to work again. Naked, his young body brown from the summer sun, her son stood there at the side of the bed. He didn't speak but gazed down, his eyes loving over her bare flesh. Hunger, sexual hunger burned in his eyes.
"I want you, Neal," she whispered softly. "I want you inside me."
She reached out and cupped the dangling hose of his sex. He came to life beneath her fingertips. She watched him thicken, pulsing and throbbing, the fat head of his young cock jerking upward so that she stared directly into its slitted mouth. Tenderly, her hand gripped that rigid shaft stroking up and down as she reveled in its warm hardness.
Still without a word, but with that little twisted smile on his lips, her son edged himself beside her on the bed. He didn't need to speak, his hands said everything as they palmed under the shimmering domes of her breasts. Gently his finger's circled the half-bowls of flesh.
She moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the soothing caresses of his hands. Warmth welled within those twin balls of aroused flesh. His touch seemed to make them swell bigger and bigger with an aching need. Then his mouth was there, his laving tongue and sucking lips tending to those desires. All the time his palms and fingers never stopped in their marvelous manipulations.
As she writhed there, her crooning sighs singing out the deep satisfaction of his actions, one of his hands drifted downward over the fluttering flesh of her belly. His fingertips paused as they reached the silken strands of her yearning pussy. He was unsure, she realized. But her own hand directed his lower so that he lightly stroked the trembling knoll of her sex.
His fingers taunted there ever so close, yet so far from the need-ridden channel of her body. He squeezed and rubbed, his massaging hand stirring a flood of womanly fluids within her. She moaned softly, her pelvis moving up and down on it in accord.
An inquisitive finger finally wedged between the pouting lips of her labia. Inward it wiggled working through the scalloped folds of her inner lips and into the burning heat of her vagina. He twisted and turned the digit, impaling her belly, swirling it over the throbbing walls of her cunt. Then he easily pumped it in and out of the sexual well of her body.
But she didn't want that teasing finger. She wanted him.
Gently tugging at his adamantine rod, she summoned him. He came, easing between her spread thighs and sliding atop the voluptuous bed her body presented for him.
His weight pressed her into the mattress. It was far from an uncomfortable feeling. She liked the feel of a man atop her as she lay on her back, her legs opened to receive the rigid offering of his cock.
Expertly, her hand guided his glans into the waiting gash of her cunt. He sagged it into her in one quick thrust of his hips. Up it plunged, cramming its way into the caressing liquid warmth of her cunt. She squeezed down around him, relishing the marvelous, virile feel of him.
Her hands ran up his back, savoring the young, tense muscles of his body. There was power there, youthful power gathered within him, ready to explode at any minute.
And when it did, her body responded. Her pelvis arched and fell with each deep-grinding stroke of his pistoning cock. He rammed it into her, feeding her inch upon inch of his magnificent cock. He threw his hips into her, cramming her hot hole of desire with rigid dick.
Harder and harder he poled into the worshipping furrow of her pussy. She moaned out for him, pleading with him to give it to her even harder, even deeper. His young buttocks, as hard as boulders, jerked up and down in a pounding rhythm as he strived to oblige her every wish.
She was skewered, impaled by her son's cock and she loved it. She existed for that pistoning prod and nothing else. She was his, her whole body open to him, willing to provide for his every need. She couldn't get enough of his poling prick, She couldn't get enough of her son.
Deeper and deeper his cock slammed up into the humid recesses of her lust channel. She opened her body and accepted him. Her thighs throbbed. Her vagina ached. Her whole body centered on that never-ceasing, in-out sluicing of his sex.
She was close, so close…
No! she shouted to herself. The vision in the mirror evaporated; Neal's hunching body shimmered and faded, leaving only her own reflection.
She stared at herself, her body flushing with guilt. One of her hands had crept between her thighs. Her index finger was firmly entrenched in the soggy wetness of her cunt. Even as she watched, she moved that finger in and out of her body in a desperate attempt to relieve the mounting lusts she held.
With Neal? No! she moaned, shocked by the forbidden desires that consumed her. Not with my own son!
But the thoughts refused to leave her. She wanted him, wanted his young cock buried deeply in the hot channel of her pussy. Wanted to feel his weight pressing her down into the bed, pinning her beneath him and his plunging prick, No, she denied herself the wicked excitement of imagining her son mounted atop her willing body. Jeff, I want Jeff!
In and out her probing finger drove with increasing vigor. Another fingertip inched upward toward the swollen nubbin of her clit, rolling and rubbing the extended bud of pleasure, as she imagined herself once again beneath Jeff's virile body. She could feel him inside her once again. She could taste the wonderful satisfaction of his cock slithering in and out of her cunt.
Her mind could picture the young man she had met in Chicago. His face smiled down at her, a face that… reminded her of Neal. The revelation shocked and excited her at the same time. The digit within her pussy jerked in and out with renewed need. Jeff had reminded her of Neal.
She came, muffling her groans and moans by throwing her face into a pillow. And when at last her finger slid from her body, she realized the truth of what had occurred on the convention trip.
She had taken Jeff to her bed because he had reminded her of Neal!