0 comments/ 11003 views/ 2 favorites Kentuck Woman: Interlude 01 By: ManBlue This is the fourth installment of the Kentucky Woman saga. Kay and Frank met first in Kentucky when Frank was on a business trip. Their attraction was obvious and after one date and numerous phone and email communications, Kay traveled to New York to visit Frank where he opened her world up to new, exciting sexual possibilities. Now the couple are back in their respective homes; Kay in Kentucky, Frank in New York. What follows is an account of their sexual lives apart starting with this called Interlude One. Kay was back in Kentucky and I was busy working here in New York. Life went on pretty much as it did before we met. We talked on the phone several times a week and communicated daily via email and chat messenger. Kay bemoaned her situation in Kentucky; the close-mindedness of her small town, the lack of excitement, and, most of all, the scarcity of sexual possibilities. "Frank, it's like you turned me on to the new world, to this new me, and now I can't do anything with it. I'm a prisoner again," she said to me over the phone. "Maybe you're not looking or trying hard enough," I said, half kiddingly. "Maybe you need to dig under the surface to find what you need." "Believe me, Frank, there is nothing on or under the surface here. I've lived here almost all my life and I would know if there was." "Why don't you move then?" I asked. "I complain, Frank, but I really love this place. My house. My animals. The job I have is amazing. And my memories of Gregory here. I could never leave Kentucky so you'll just have to continue to listen to me complain." That made us both laugh and then in that throaty, musky slightly Southern drawl I found so sensuous, she said, "But god, Frank, I miss your cock. I miss waking you up with my tongue and mouth. Feeling your cock get thick and hard in my mouth. And then having you fuck me, the way you do. Gawwwd, I miss that." And I did too. Just her talk of it aroused me and I think she knew it by the silence on my end when she described our sex. "I've been wearing out my toys, Frank," she said with a laugh. "While you get to wear out those New York sluts." The truth was that I hadn't been with anyone since she left. It wasn't that I was being monogamous; it was really that no situation had come up and I wasn't one to go on the hunt for sex. It usually came to me. I was lucky that way. "No, baby," I said. "We are in the same boat right now as far as that goes." "Why don't I believe you, you dog," she kidded. I laughed. "You should. I'll tell you when and if it happens. I promised you that." "You did, but somehow I'm not so sure you would." "I will....as long as you can take what I tell you." "It will be hard, but I want to know, Frank." "You will, Kay. But let's agree not to say anything until after something happens." I said. "Um, and why is that? Not that anything is happening on this end," she asked. "We don't want to influence either of us in any way. Let's let it play out without input from either of us. We'll talk about it after." "Hmmm it sounds as if you've already got something brewing, Frank," she said with suspicion in her voice. "No, I don't. But if I did, you wouldn't know." I cracked. "Beast!" she cried playfully. "I want to change the subject now. Did I tell you the pool will be ready by the weekend," she said. Kay often talked about her pool and how she liked early morning swims for exercise. "You did, but you can again. And I plan on spending a lot of time in it when I visit." I had already booked a week around the Fourth of July to visit her in Kentucky. "Mmmmm, I'm dreaming of that," she said. "And I plan on doing a little shopping for two piece suits this year." "I can just imagine you in them," I said, thinking of her full, mature voluptuous body in a bikini; how her incredible breasts would be on display and her still high round ass. "And it's a very pretty sight." "Why thank you sir," she said. "It's been since my twenties since I wore one. I think its time now. I no longer feel so....modest." "That's what I like to hear," I said, smiling on my end. That was the way most of our conversations went; just small talk, incidental stuff—until a few weeks later when I had something else to tell her about. "You sure you're okay with it," I asked again. "You don't really need to know." "Oh but I do," she said, resolutely. "I must know. I have to know who you fucked and how you fucked them. So stop procrastinating. Get on with it. I'm here on the other end of the phone line. I've showered and I'm in my robe. Maybe hearing you tell me what you did will have me go fetch a toy. And since you're not here to help me, that's what I'll make do with." Her frankness made me laugh but I still was wary about telling her about my latest escapade. "Go on now, Frank. I'm waiting..." So I told her all of it. How it started. And how it ended. I lead a kickboxing class once a week at a high profile gym downtown. It's generally for the more advanced but beginners are welcome as well. It's a tough workout and usually concludes with partners pairing off and sparring. The past couple of weeks a new student had come to the class; a woman in her early to mid-thirties. She had skills that were obvious, going through my workout and drills without really any hardship. Her first session, she refrained from sparring, just watching from sidelines. But the next time she came, I paired her with a woman around her size and skill level. I watched as they sparred and noticed how fierce she was. She attacked relentlessly, just barely staying in the boundaries and guidelines we set for safety. We practice light contact, but she was bordering on full contact. She totally overwhelmed her partner who was not used to being pummeled. So much so, that I had to end the match prematurely. As soon as I ended the match the woman, who sported a long auburn ponytail, immediately apologized to her partner and then came to me. "I'm so sorry," she said, still flushed and perspiring from the match. "Sometimes I get carried away when sparring. I need to get it better under control." "Yeah, you need to," I agreed. "You won't find many sparring partners if you step over the lines here." She nodded. "Yes, I know. I need to work on that, but," she looked at me and grinned slyly. "it wasn't that bad. she'll live." Her reply this time was more arrogant than apologetic. I could see that she had no shortage of self confidence. And the way she looked at me, it was as if she wanted me to make sure I knew it. She had bright blue eyes, well defined, muscular shoulders and arms and was pretty, but with a harsh edge to her. I pegged her in her early to mid-thirties. "I'm Christina," she said, holding out her hand to me. "You run a very tough, disciplined class here, Frank. It's impressive." "Thank you, Christina. Wherever you've trained has obviously done a good job. You're very skilled." My compliment induced a satisfied smile on her face. "I work out at a small gym in L.A. I've kick-boxed for several years. I've also competed in Muay Thai and have a black belt in Karate." "Muay Thai, huh? I got a good dose of that when I was in Special Forces." "Oh?" Her blue eyes gazed over me after I dropped the Special Forces mention. It was then when I knew there was more than just a martial arts interest. "Are you here in New York for good now?" I asked. "No, just for a few more weeks. My husband has business here. I asked around and your class was recommended to me as one of the best in the city." "Well that was kind of them. Nice to know I've got a good rep somewhere." I said self-deprecatingly "Yeah, and I'm glad they did. Anyway, I need to run. I'll see you next time." And the next time I paired her with a man. Again she just barely stayed within the boundaries of light contact I practice at the gym. Giving him all he could handle and more. Her outfit was also a little more flashy; an expensive torn top and loose karate pants; her firm, six-pack abs exposed for all to see. After the class she came over to me again. "Frank, I would love to work a private session with you if that's possible. I don't want to seem too cocky, but I really need more of a challenge. I hope you understand." Her eyes probed mine when she asked me. "I don't know, Christina. Any time you train, you make your own challenges." "I know that, but, I really like to set my own personal bar as high as possible. You're a really great teacher and I think I can benefit from some one on one with you. What do you think? Can you find some time? I knew the gym was free on Thursday nights and we arranged to meet then. "Of course I'll pay you for your time," she said. "I know this is out of the ordinary for you and I appreciate it." "I'm a volunteer here," I said. "No money please." Okay, if you say so." She was waiting for me when I arrived at the gym that Thursday, already loosening up on the mats. She was wearing baggy sweat pants and this time even less than before not even bothering with anything over her sports bra, her unusually ample, and from a quick glance, surgically enhanced cleavage very much evident. But there was no denying she worked to attain that flat, defined belly and muscles on her arms and shoulders. She greeted me with a bright smile and a hug, her body pressing slightly into mine as she did. "You may not be hugging me when this is over," I warned. "Good, that's exactly what I want to hear. Push me as hard as you want. Take no pity on me, Frank." "You'll get none, I can assure you that," I said with a sly smile. I worked her to her limits; both of us quickly sweating. But she stayed with me. We took a break and then she asked if we could spar. "That's part of my regimen," I said. I let her start off strong; allowing her to attack but making her work hard to do so. Her kicks and punches were vicious, but I've taken much much harder though she didn't know that. I could tell she was disappointed and even urged me on a bit. I continued my charade awhile longer until I knew she was convinced that she could defeat me. That's when I started to counter, kicking repeatedly into those abs and following with jabs to her arms and helmet-protected face. She tried to come back at me, but she had used up most of what power she had left. A sweeping reverse kick finally put her on her back. I helped her up and she took off her helmet, shaking out her long dark red hair. Her face again was flushed and she was sweating profusely. Her eyes were a bit glassy and she was breathing hard. "You're okay? I didn't go too far with you did I?" She smiled curiously. "No...it was exactly what I wanted, Frank. You're really good. Amazing really. You should compete." "No, my competing days are long over. I enjoy doing this; teaching, helping others improve." She looked me over and bit her lower lip self-consciously. "That's noble of you. I know you said no money, but can I buy you a drink. Or dinner." "You don't have to, Christina. Like I said, I enjoy doing this." "You said that, but what does that have to do with me inviting you to have a drink or dinner with me." She took a step closer to me as she said that. Giving me a better look at her almost perfect body. Her intentions were becoming obvious. "I can't tonight," I said. "I'm leaving on Saturday, we only have a couple of days," she said, looking me in the eyes. Making it even clearer what she really wanted. When I didn't respond she raised the stakes: "Have you been to Bastardo?" "I wish," I said. "Three stars from the New York Times. No chance I'm getting there any time soon." "My husband knows the chef. Lunch or dinner. You name it, as long as it's before Saturday." "Now you're making me an offer I definitely cannot refuse," I said. I had eaten at the chef's previous restaurants. He was one of the best young chef's in the city. And Bastardo was one of the hardest to get a table to. "I figured it would take a food offering to get you to the table with me," she said, again giving me that look, her eyes roaming my body. "I'm free Friday for lunch," I said. "Done," she said. "12:30 at Bastardo. You know where it is?" "It's in that new hotel on Fifth and 36th?" "Uh huh. I'll meet you for there," she said. "And I'm very much looking forward to it," she added grinning back at me as she headed to the locker room. I don't know what I was looking forward to more; dining at Bastardo or the very real possibility of much more with Christina. Yes, food means that much to me. When I arrived at the restaurant and saw her sitting already at our table; a corner booth away from most of the other tables—the best in the restaurant—and the sight of her, out of kick boxing fare, her copper-colored hair flowing and wearing a curve-hugging thigh high dress with thin straps that showed off her defined arms and cut low enough to reveal her tanned cleavage, both my appetites were raging. She gave me a glowing smile as I arrived. I was dressed in jeans, a white button down shirt, and a blue sport jacket. "Oh my, so very handsome," she said looking me over. "And you look even lovelier than you do when you are pounding your sparring opponent," I said with a grin. "I'm glad you approve," she said. She patted the seat next to her as opposed to the one opposite her. I hesitated for a moment, remembering that it was her husband who had the contact at the restaurant. I figured, however, that whoever her husband was, she had been given free reign to do as she wished. So after a very brief deliberation, I squeezed next to her, trying hard not to make physical contact, but she made sure that she did, moving her thigh against mine immediately. "Your husband must have a pretty high rep to snag a table like this at one of the hottest restaurants in New York," I said, hoping to learn more about her relationship with him. "Is he in the restaurant business?" "No, he's in entertainment. And he's always happy to make me happy," she added, confirming my suspicions. She turned her eyes to mine and applied a bit more pressure to my thigh with hers. It was her less than subtle way to further indicate that whatever she wanted her husband would provide for her. Unless I'm denser than I thought, it was clear what she meant. Before we could talk further, the wait staff was upon us. We ordered a bottle of wine and let the chef prepare a sampling. The meal was a sensual feast and lasted over two hours. Christina's appetite matched my own; she ate everything with gusto. We talked readily about our passion for martial arts. She told me how she got started; how she was overweight and directionless until she began to exercise. She even admitted her obsession with her training to the point of abandoning some of the philosophies of the arts. All the while, her thigh was next to mine and occasionally her hand would wander there as well, her nails stroking casually, as if it was the most natural thing for a married woman with a big shot hubby to be doing in a three star restaurant. When the waiter asked about dessert, she shooed him away. She looked at me and said, "Well, Frank, what do you think?" "I think that was one of the most memorable meals I've had in quite some time," I said. "I agree," she said. "But I didn't mean about the food." She continued to stare at me. The wine had made her slightly tipsy, yet her eyes were sparkling. "Shouldn't we now just cut to the chase?" she said, assuming I knew what she meant. And, from the way she was looking at me, I did. "Confident, aren't you?" I said, really just teasing her. "Oh yes, I am," she said. "So confident that I've already booked a suite here. Room 2302 to be exact." And then she moved her hand up my thigh a bit higher and squeezed again keeping her eyes on mine. "I bet the view is incredible from up there," I said, smiling at her. She summoned the waiter for the check. "I hope you have lots of time to admire it," she said, playing along. I nodded. "I'm sure it's one not for rushing but for savoring." "Mhmmm," she purred. "That's what I like to hear." The elevator ride seemed endless. Christina was leaning against me, taking my hand and squeezing it. As soon as we got to the suite, which was enormous and did have an amazing view of both the Empire State Building from one exposure and the Chrysler from another, she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me hungrily while working off my sport jacket. She then moved her hands to my shirt, pulling, tugging trying to get it unbuttoned and off while licking at my neck. While she was doing that my hands were roaming her hard, muscled body. "Mmmmm god, those hands. I love them, Frank," she murmured "I wanted them on me the first time I took your class. And I know you know how to use them." I squeezed her ass at that and she cooed. She got my shirt off and quickly raked her nails over my chest before burying her head in it. "I love a man with hair on his chest," she said as she caressed and kissed at my pecs. One hand moved lower, over my flat belly and then to the girth in my jeans. She murmured again as she squeezed. "You do have a thick cock, don't you, Frank. I usually can tell by a man's body type." "Well, let's see if you're right," I said, teasing her. "Hmmm, lets...," she said as she worked my belt open and then my jeans. Her hands were working deftly as she slid one under my briefs and quickly found what she was seeking. She stroked down the length and then tried to grip it. "Oooohhh" "Well?" "Right again," she said with a giggle as she sucked at one of my nipples. "Okay, enough about me," I said, moving away from her. "How long before I get to admire that view you were bragging about." She gave me a coy look and reached behind her back to unzip her dress, sliding the thin straps over her defined shoulders. I sat back on the big bed, naked, my hand loosely on my cock as I watched her undress for me. She was wearing a half bra, her perfectly surgically enhanced breasts almost totally revealed, her blue eyes continually on me as she unhooked the bra. Her body was bronzed, obviously artificially, with no tan lines evident on her breasts. Her nipples were half dollar-sized and now protruding excitedly. She grazed her nails over her six pack abs to her thong, sliding it down slowly over her muscled thighs. She had a very thin red landing strip above her glistening pussy. Now naked, she posed for me. "How about the view, Frank," she said, a cocky grin on her face. "Better than advertised," I said, "but a closer inspection is needed." She smiled and moved toward me. Her eyes were roaming my body hungrily, focusing on my thickening cock. When she was closer, I reached out and grabbed her, pulling her onto the bed. She was reaching for my cock, but I pushed her hands away, turning her around so that her head was on the edge of the bed as I stood over her. "Put those hands under your ass," I demanded. "What?" She looked at me curiously, but I had a plan for her. I knew what she really wanted from me. "Your hands, keep them under you," I repeated. "I don't want you touching me...until I tell you." "Frank, but..." "Do it!" I said with more force as I teased my cock over her face and lips, her tongue flicking out to try to catch it. Her hand reached up again to try to grab it and I pulled away. "Do as I say," I commanded. She cursed, but put her hands under her and I brought my cock to her lips. Her tongue snaked out, swirling over it. My hands were under her head, guiding her as she began to take it into her mouth. Standing over her, I began to bury my thick cock into her mouth as she moaned, squirmed, and sucked on it. Using both of my hands, I held her head as I thrust my cock into her mouth. She slurped and sucked, her face turning crimson. I moved my cock back and forth in her mouth as she moaned on it and then I pulled it out again. Kentuck Woman: Interlude 01 "Don't stop, Frank. Fuck my face hard," She panted as she reached for my cock with her tongue. I buried it again deep into her mouth, my hands pulling at her hair. She was grinding her legs together as she furiously sucked. Her hand came out from under her ass and she reached for her pussy, eager to rub it as she sucked. I grabbed it away and she groaned, putting it back where I instructed while going back to work on my cock. I noticed that her pussy was dripping as her hips squirmed. She was close to cumming. I pulled out of her mouth. She lay back panting again. "God, Frank, why did you stop? Please!" "Turn around," I commanded. She did as I said. "Now raise up your legs." She bit her lower lip. "You going to fuck me now, Frank? God I hope so." I took her legs by the ankles and dragged her closer to me. Sliding my hands down her thighs and under her ass cheeks, I pulled her legs over my shoulders, bringing that wet pussy to my lips while I held her tight. "Noooo, not that, Frank," she said as she fought to escape my grip. "I don't want your tongue. I can get a girlfriend to do that. I want your cock. I need it!" I ignored her and quickly took her clit into my mouth, biting it as my tongue slid down into her pussy. She moaned loud and struggled again to release herself, but I was too strong for her. I growled into her, my mouth covering her sex. My teeth were grazing over her, my tongue curling in and up. She moaned again this time in resignation, now moving her hips up to meet my tongue. Her hands reached for my head, her fingers raking through my hair. I could feel her shake as I devoured her greedily and she screamed, her nails digging into my scalp as she came hard on my tongue. I dropped her onto the bed again. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" she cried, her hands over her eyes. Her hard body was glistening with perspiration as she lay there writhing below me, her face flushed, her blue eyes blazing at me. Her hands were roaming her own body; squeezing her breasts, playing with her nipples and then moving between her legs. "I'm on fire, Frank. Fuck me with that thick cock! Hurt me with it!" I was right in my suspicions about her. That given her aggressive, dominant, cocky personality, she was really yearning to be controlled sexually. "Get on your hands and knees," I said. She quickly rolled over, raising her firm ass in the air for me. I slapped it hard. She shrieked and then purred. "Mmmmm, that's it, Frank. Use your hands on me. Do what you want with me. I'm your slut." My hands were on her ass cheeks and my hard cock was teasing over her crack and down to her pussy. She tried to push back on it, but I wouldn't let her. And then I slowly entered her from behind, spreading her with my thick cock. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she moaned. "Fuccccccccck." I slid in to my balls and then pulled out again, slamming faster and harder this time, the thrust pushing her forward. "Harder," she whimpered. "Bruise me. Mark me." With each thrust my force increased and her body slammed deeper into the bed. I was now dripping sweat onto her. Her moans became howls followed by a scream as she came violently again, burying her face into the sheets. Her breathing was ragged as she lay, face down, ass up on the bed. My cock was still in her. I pulled it out slowly and she groaned. She started to move; to turn to me. "Stay where you are," I said. She looked back at me. My cock was still fully engorged. She stared at it. "Yes, Frank. Take it," she said, as she moved her hands to her own ass cheeks and pulled them apart. "Fuck my ass. It's yours. Own it." With one hand in her long auburn hair, I pulled and twisted it, keeping my other hand gripped around my thick cock. I brought the tip between her cheeks, tapping at her tight bud and then slowly spreading her. She moaned loud and long. "Gawwwwd, it hurts. It hurts so fucking good," she said. I moved slowly at first and then faster as she pushed back on it. Not caring if I was ripping her open. The cum quickly rose up my loins as I pounded her harder and then pushed deep into her. Holding her tightly by her hair as the cum exploded out of me and into her ass while she howled again, her body convulsing in another hard orgasm. And then she collapsed onto the bed while I maneuvered my cock out of her. She was whimpering into a pillow, the muscles in her back heaving as she slowly caught her breath. I let her rest a moment and then pulled her head up by her hair. I looked at her as I positioned myself on my back in front of her. "Clean it," I said. She looked back at me a moment hesitatingly. And then moved up to my cock. "Yes, I'll clean it. I don't care if it's been in my ass." And she obediently licked up the length, around the girth and then took it in all into her mouth again. I released my grip on her hair, and pulled her toward me. "Good girl," I said. "Yes, I'm your good girl, Frank," she said, curling up onto me chest. "I'm your good slut. Your whore. I'm yours. All yours." "Did you like doing that to her," Kay asked me over the phone. "Treating her that way." "It's not usually my thing," I said, "but I knew I wasn't crossing any lines with her. That what I was doing was what she craved." "I wouldn't want you to act that way with me, Frank," Kay said softly. "And I never would," I replied. "We have something much different." "Yes...we do," she purred over the phone. "Will you see her again?" "She's back in LA," I said. "She wants me to visit. Even said she would spring for airfare, hotel, anything." "Generous ain't she," Kay joked. "Are you going to take her up on it? "Only if I have some company," I said. "Company?" "That's right, as in a companion." She was silent on the other end as she comprehended what I meant. What do you think?" "It might be interesting," she said. "Well, it's something to consider. Did what I just told you excite you at all?" "Uh huh. I'm wet and now need to hang up and fetch my toys." I smiled as I listened to that. "You go have your fun," I said. "I'll do my best," she said. "But I'll only want more." "You'll get it. And soon," I said. "Mmmm, hmmm, I know," she said and then hung up without another word. Kentuck Woman: Interlude 02 This is the fifth installment of the Kentucky Woman saga. Kay and Frank met first in Kentucky when Frank was on a business trip. Their attraction was obvious and after one date and numerous phone and email communications, Kay traveled to New York to visit Frank where he opened her world up to new, exciting sexual possibilities. Now the couple are back in their respective homes; Kay in Kentucky, Frank in New York. Frank's account of his sexual life apart from Kay was seen in Interlude One. What follows Kay's sexual encounter during Frank's absence called Interlude Two. I just returned from a business meeting with some potential buyers to one of my properties, when I heard the phone ring as I entered my house. I could see on the digital screen that it was the Kentucky area code. It was Kay. "Hello beautiful," I said. "I was just thinking of you and how I need to get things organized here in the next few days so I'll have no work issues while I'm in Kentucky. I want no distractions when I'm with you, baby." There was a pause on the other end. "Frank..." There was something wrong. Her voice was tentative....troubled. "What's wrong, Kay?" "I...I did something, Frank. Something I'm not very proud of." I thought about what she said. "What, Kay? What could you have done that has upset you like this?" "I don't even know if I should tell you. I'm so ashamed. You may not want to come here after I tell you." Now I was very curious. "Did you do something....you know. Did you fuck someone." There was silence again. So that was it. "We talked about this, Kay. I don't care. I'm glad for you. It changes nothing between us. You know that." I heard her sobbing on the other end. "Kay, no guilt. You know I have none. I told you about my most recent escapade. We discussed all this." "No, Frank, it's not that. It's not that I fucked someone," she said. "It's who I fucked." "Who you fucked? Why should that matter?" "It does, Frank," she said tearfully. "You don't understand." "I don't, Kay." I said calmly. "Now settle down and help me understand. Tell me what happened. No secrets, remember." "I don't know, Frank. I'm afraid what you might think." "You know me better than that. I don't judge. Now tell me, Kay." I heard her sigh. "I will," she said. "but I won't blame you if you cancel your trip here after you hear what I tell you." "I'm sure you're overreacting, Kay. Let it out. Tell me why you are so upset. I'm listening." And I listened to it all. You would think, based on how troubled she was on the phone, I would have been shocked at what she told me, but I wasn't. What she told me only reinforced my feelings for her. What she told me was so intimate and loving that I felt like getting on a plane for Kentucky that night, not later that week. What follows, in her words, is what she told me over the phone that night. Each year, at the ranch where I work, we take on a number of interns; recent college graduates or graduate students who have an interest in animals, farming, breeding, etc. Some spend a month, others just a week or two. It's been a rewarding program for most of the interns. Many have gone onto to similar fields after graduating. Some years I've been assigned a few interns to work with me. Not all have worked out. Many kids just go through the motions. They can be lazy. This year there I was assigned just one. And I was lucky. He was far from lazy; a real hard worker with an amazing gift with the horses. His name was Brock. He graduated from a Christian school in Colorado and, besides his interest in the ministry. He was shy, a bit ungainly, with glasses and traces of acne. He was also tall and broad with big shoulders and arms. I found out from him that he played football in high school and had a scholarship to the University of Colorado, but, at the last minute, decided to go to the Christian school and devote his life to God. Like I said, he was shy, mainly around people, and myself in particular. But around the horses, he opened up. He would smile more when working with the horses, talk to them; soothe them when they were uneasy or agitated. He had a true gift; something that I guess just part of his make up. He also never hesitated to do the grunt work I assigned him; loading feed, cleaning out the stalls, shoveling shit, and even running paperwork errands for me. There was something about him; the way he went about his work and his calm demeanor that reminded me of my son, Gregory. Gregory also had a gift with animals, and tended to be shy, but not nearly as shy as this young man. We didn't talk much beyond the work. I knew he was a Bible thumper and didn't want to get into any of that with him. He was young; hopefully the world would open his eyes a bit and wouldn't define it through the prism of religion. I would try to get him to talk at lunch. We ate everyday in my small air conditioned office. He would have a cheese sandwich, potato chips and a bottle of water...everyday the same. I teased him a little about it. He would just blush and say it was the easiest thing for him to make; that he just had a small fridge at the dorm where all the interns stayed. I asked him about his other interests, but it always got back to Christ and how he wanted to do His work, helping others in any way he can, so that usually ended any real discussion. He told me he would be going to Haiti right after his session at the ranch to work on a mission and build houses there. He addressed me as Ma'am at first. I told him he could call me Kay, or Ms Richardson if that made him feel better. Eventually Ma'am became Ms Richardson. One day at lunch when I dropped a napkin and bent over forward to pick it up and looked up, I noticed that he had been staring at whatever cleavage was evident in my button-down blouse. I must have had a button or two open and didn't even notice. I dress very conservatively at work; mostly jeans, sweaters or long sleeve shirts because of the type of work we do. It's hard, sweaty work, far from glamorous except for when I'm doing a show. Like when you saw me the first time, Frank. Anyway, he knew I caught him and he blushed. I knew he felt bad so I said nothing about it, quickly telling him about our afternoon work schedule. That night I thought about Brock a bit differently. There was more to him than his devotion to Christ. He was a young man made of flesh and blood and he obviously saw something that interested him to make him flush like that. After that I often caught him staring at me. He would try to hide it through his thick glasses, but I knew what he was really looking at; my breasts through my blouses; my butt, whatever he could get away with without actually gawking. I started to think more about Brock and how much he reminded me of my son, Gregory. Gregory would be just a year or two older than Brock. When I got in bed I pictured Brock staring at my breasts. What was this shy, religious young man really thinking? My mind was going in a dangerous direction. I tossed and turned in bed. My thoughts were in a bad place and had a fitful night's sleep. The next day when Brock arrived, I noticed things about him I had never paid any attention to. I was aware of the muscles on his back when he lifted things. I glanced at how his jeans curved over his firm butt, and how his hands were both large and gentle, especially when dealing with the horses. We were breaking in two new warmbloods that arrived the previous day. They were both challenging, especially a gray and white beauty that had a wild temper. Brock did better controlling her than I did and that afternoon. When we were bringing them back to the stable, the gray beauty began to fight me. I held on, leading her as best I could while Brock was behind me with the other. Suddenly, the horse began to buck back at me and kick. I struggled with her reigns and then felt a strong pair of hands around my waist pulling me out of the way. With one hand, Brock held me away as he took the reigns and eventual control of the horse. I watched as he soothed the horse, getting her under control. "I wonder what got into her to act that way," he said to me. "I have no idea, but you were fantastic. Thank you, Brock. She really could have hurt me," I said. He didn't say anything, just glanced back at me with a shy look as we continued to lead the horses back to the stable. I could feel the power in his hands around my waist the rest of the afternoon. And that night I squirmed in bed again. My thoughts confused; thinking of this boy two decades younger than I. A boy who reminded me of my son. What was wrong with me? Why was I having these thoughts? There were no other incidents in Brock's final week working with me. He might have been staring at me, but if he was, I paid it no mind. In the past I've had the interns over for a swim and barbecue at my house as a reward for their hard work. But this year it was just Brock. Would it be right for me to just invite the young man? Why wouldn't it? He was my intern. He deserved it as much as the previous interns I had. Even more because of how hard and good his work was. And I knew he was off to Haiti to do good deeds with his church on Monday. It certainly wasn't going to be easy there. "Brock, do you like steak?" I asked him that last Friday afternoon. "I don't eat it much, but when I do, I like it," he said. "I usually invite my interns over for a barbecue and steak when they finish their time working on the ranch, but this year it's just you. You've done such a great job here. What about it? Would you like that? Are you free tomorrow?" He looked at me curiously through his thick glasses. "Um...I'm not doing anything, but I don't have a car." He said it as if he were looking for a way to get out of it. I smiled. "You don't need a car. I'll pick you up. I know where the interns' dorms are." He flushed a bit again. "Okay...that sounds good to me, Ms. Richardson. Should I bring anything?." "No, hun, just yourself, your appetite and a swimsuit." "Okay, that's easy," he said, a very small, nervous smile on his face. I slept well that night. I had no more of those feelings. An intern was coming for a swim and a steak. It was the least I could do for his work. Brock was waiting for me in front of the dorm. He was sitting outside in baggy shorts, a white t shirt, and sunglasses. I pulled in front, beeped and he got up and walked to the car. "All set?" I said. "It's a beautiful warm day for a swim." "It is," he said. "Thanks again for inviting me, Ms. Richardson." As he got into the passenger seat, I noticed him glancing at my legs. I was wearing shorts so it was the first time he would seem them exposed. They were tan, deep brown like my face and body gets from the summer sun. "It's my pleasure, Brock," I said as I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. He smiled tentatively and we drove mostly in silence the 15 minutes to my house. When we pulled into my garage, there was loud barking and my dog, Wolf, bounded out from the back to the car. He was a Sheppard/Roti mix weighing around 150 pounds and could be very intimidating. "That's just Wolf," I said. "Let me get out first and calm him down." "That's okay," Brock said. "I'm not worried." "Wait..." I tried to stop him but he opened the door and Wolf immediately stopped barking. He was quiet, sizing Brock up and then his tail wagged. Brock rubbed him under his chin and ears and that was it. They were buddies. "I'm very impressed," I said. "He doesn't take that quickly to strangers." "Dogs love me," he said as he continued to play with Wolf's ears and chin. "Apparently," I said, watching amazed. I took Brock into the house. "This is real nice, Ms. Richardson," he said, complimenting me on my kitchen and living room and then looking out toward the pool. "Thank you, Brock. I'm very comfortable here," I said. "Why don't you change into you suit and go on out for a swim. I'll bring us some snacks." I pointed him to a bathroom off the kitchen. He went in and I began to put together a bowl of chips and a few dips I made along with a pitcher of sweet iced tea. He came out a few moments later in his suit, his shirt still on. "Go on out there and get in the pool," I said. "Do you need any help?" he asked. "None," I said. "I'll be out in a minute with the snacks." He went out toward the pool. I watched as he took off his shirt. His back was as I thought it was; broad and knotted with muscles. He took off his sunglasses and dived in. His shoulders were also broad and as he swam, the muscles on them glistened in the sun. Watching him from the kitchen the feelings I had earlier in the week were suddenly ignited again. I told myself to get rid of them; to concentrate on being a good host. Get the boy some food. And I did that. I put a tray together and brought it out to where Brock was sitting near the picnic table and umbrella. "Here you go," I said. "How was the water?" I looked at him as he said in the lounge chair. His big, hairless chest was beaded with water and heaving from his swim. "It was fantastic," he said. "Are you coming in?" "I wasn't planning to," I said. "But it does look inviting today." And I really wasn't planning to. I was going to let him swim. Enjoy the snacks and then barbecue him a steak before bringing him back to the dorm. Another glance at his chest and I said, "Let me go get changed. I'll be right down." "Okay, Ms Richardson," he said, looking at me through his sunglasses while he chomped on a chip. I went upstairs, a little nervous now. You would think after what we experienced, Frank, that nothing would make me tingle like that again. But I was tingling. And I knew it even more when I undressed and felt the moistness between my legs. Maybe it was just too long for me. Maybe it had nothing to do with anything else; that I was horny and would love a good long fuck and I was alone with a man...a young one...but one who I'm sure was capable of satisfying me. But I thought it was more than that and that's what concerned me. Instinctively I reached for my old, dark blue one piece suit and then put it down. Like I told you, I recently bought a few bikinis; mainly to use when you visited. I had tried them on for my best friend, Pam and her daughter, Becca the previous weekend when they came over for dinner. Both were very impressed and said that you were in for a treat, Frank. I was saving them for your visit, but then wondered how Brock would react if I wore one. I shouldn't tease him or lead him on. I knew I shouldn't, but I wanted to. I wanted to see how he would react. And I was hoping he would react. I picked out the black Wicked Weasel with the underwire top, the straps around the back of my neck and a bikini bottom so slight that I had to go and get a bikini wax for. I put it on, staring at myself in the mirror, pulling my long hair up, admiring how my copper skin looked next to the black of the suit and noticing that the outline of my nipples were clearly evident despite the black material. I thought for a moment again of changing back to my one piece, but I didn't. I had a cover up for the bikini. It was also black with a top that tied in front along with matching shorts. I put them on and headed back down the stairs and out to the pool. Brock was still in the lounge chair eating the chips and drinking his tea. "These dips are so good, Ms Richardson," he said as I approached the table and chairs. "I really love this salsa." "Thank you, Brock," I said, moving in front of him and kicking off my sandals. "It's my specialty." He looked at me, his eyes, through the sunglasses, focused on the flesh visible in the opening of the cover up including an ample view of my cleavage. He stopped chewing for a moment and took a long drink of the tea. "It is hot out here," I said, still standing in front of Brock as he lay on the lounge chair and then untied the cover up top and slipped it off my shoulders. Without making too much of a show, I smiled at Brock as I slid the shorts off and then sat on the chair opposite him. "Are you ready for another swim?" I asked, noticing that he was sweating already. He didn't say anything. His eyes were fixed on my body and I knew it. He looked down and away shyly. "Are you okay?" I asked. He nodded and pulled his long legs up a bit. I saw what he was doing. He was trying to hide what was growing in his swim trunks. I couldn't help but stare at the bulge that was very apparent. He knew what I was looking at and quickly popped up out of the chair. "Yeah, I do need that swim," he blurted and jumped in, swimming to the opposite edge of the pool where, with his back to me, he held on. I watched him as he stayed there a long time. He was obviously ashamed of what I saw. My heart went out to him and his discomfort. I never intended that. I didn't want him to feel ashamed. I never wanted to hurt him in any way. But I also was equally aroused. That just the sight of my bikini-clad body could induce such a reaction was an incredible turn on to me. I didn't know what I should do. There was a combination of motherly instinct to comfort along with high sexual tension. The sensation was totally unique and it was making me light headed. I don't know if I ever really made a decision to do what I was going to do. It was almost as if someone else was pulling my strings, getting me up off the chair in into the pool. Swimming to him. Wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my body into that broad back. "Oh, baby, please don't feel bad," I said up into his ear. "It's a compliment. Really it is. I'm very flattered." "I'm so weak," he said, his voice wavering. "I have no control. God help me." "No, you aren't weak. You're a man," I whispered near his ear. "You're made of flesh and blood. You have needs." He shook his head. "No. A stronger man would resist these temptations. A man closer to God would not have this happen. I'm a weak failure." "There is nothing wrong here, Brock," I whispered again, my warm breath in his ear. "I'm a single woman with my own needs. You are a single man. And I know you have needs too. The consent is mutual." With that I let my fingers move over his flat belly to the waist band of his swim trunks. "At least it is for me. Is it for you, Brock?" "Ms Richardson..." he groaned. "I...this has to be wrong." "What's wrong?" I asked. "That you find me attractive? That I'm much older than you? That you want what we both want?" "Yes...all of that. It's not meant to be like this. It's not love..." "In a way it is love. Not the love between a husband and wife, but the mutual pleasure is a loving thing. It's not wrong, Brock," I said, this time my mouth on his ear, my tongue teasing around the lobe while my hand reached lower, circling over his growing girth and squeezing lightly. "And I know you know it." "Ohhh god," he groaned again. "I...I do...yes...I do know it." And then he turned around, the tip of his hard cock jabbing into my thigh, looking at me with those deep blue eyes. "Oh, honey, it's okay. It's all going to be all right," I said and took his hand in mine. "I led him to the shady part of the pool. "Sit up here for me." He pulled himself up and sat at the edge of the pool while I remained in the water. I smiled up at him and moved my hands to the waist band of his trunks and tugged them down and off. His cock sprung out, already fully erect, long and thin surrounded by tufts of very light brown hair. "Oh it's beautiful, Brock," I said of his cock. "And so big and long." My hands were on his muscular thighs moving up and down. I bent my head lower and flicked my tongue around the head of his cock making slow circles on it. I glanced to see Brock's eyes flutter and heard him moan. I moved my hand to the base of his cock while my tongue continued to flutter on the head and then I felt it jerk and Brock moaned again as a wad of thick cum shot out over my face, covering my cheeks and chin. Kentuck Woman: Interlude 02 I was surprised he came so fast, but I shouldn't have been. He was embarrassed again, seeing my face covered in his cum. "I'm sorry, Ms Richardson...I...see I have no control. I can't even do this right." "Stop it, Brock. It's fine." I dunked under the water to clean off my face and then got up on the ledge of the pool sitting next to him. I smiled and kissed him. "I want you to just relax for me. Can you do that?" He nodded. "Good. I think we should go inside and out of the sun. That might be best for both of us." He nodded again, still ashamed and speechless. He bent for his trunks. "You don't need them, baby," I said with a wink and led him back inside. I took him upstairs to my bedroom. I have a ceiling fan that was on and cooling the shaded room. "Just lie down now. Everything will work out, I promise." Again, my motherly instincts to soothe took precedence, but in a way I never thought they would. He lay on his back staring at me as I reached behind to untie my top. He gaped at my big bare breasts and the look on his face made me smile with pride. I slid off my bikini bottoms revealing the now trimmed and waxed, but still dark V of hair there. I could see his cock growing again and climbed on the bed next to him. I stroked his cheek and hair, looking him into the eyes and then kissed him gently on his lips. "Is this better?" I asked. He nodded. "Yes...," he said, his voice still trembling. I kissed him again and moved my lips to his neck, nuzzling it as my nails grazed his chest and played with his nipples. I kissed lower, my tongue and lips teasing his nipples and I glanced to see that his cock was engorged again. I slid down a bit and positioned my breasts over his shaft. I held one and teased my hard nipple around the tip of his cock in circles and I heard him moan. I looked at him. "You like that, baby?" "Mmmm, yeah," was all he could mutter. I held both my big breasts now and wrapped them around his cock. Squeezing I moved them up and down while my tongue played on his head and pee hole. I wanted more of his cock in my mouth and started to work my lips over it and down, fluttering my tongue and teeth around it as I did, while my hands massaged his balls. I felt his hand tentatively on my shoulder and hair. I stopped, pulled up and looked at him. "Don't be afraid to touch me, honey," I said. "You have such big hands. I want to feel them on me. On my head. In my hair. I don't mind." "Okay..." he said nervously and I returned to kissing around his cock. As I licked up and down his long shaft I felt his hand swirl in my hair and then on the back of my head. I let out a moan on his cock. His touch was electric. Maybe this was what the horses and other animals felt. He certainly had some kind of gift. With his hand now tentatively guiding me, I quickly gobbled his cock deep, taking it all, humming and moaning on it and then pulling up and going down on him deep again. He pressed harder on my head and I began to leak from between my thighs. My hands squeezed and caressed his big balls as I bobbed on his cock. I pulled off and took a breath, grinning at him as my tongue flicked at his head. "See honey, there's nothing wrong with this, is there?" He shook his head, speechless. I laughed and took him deep into my mouth again, moving my head back and forth, my long hair coming loose as he twisted it in his hands. I played and sucked on his cock for what seemed like a very long time, enjoying every minute of it. His hands were on my back, my hair, reaching for my butt. The more he touched me, the harder and more vigorously I sucked him. After holding deep on him for as long as I could I came up for air. Taking his cock in my hand and rubbing it lovingly over my lips and face. "Mmmm, Brock, it's so delicious, I just can't stop." Still holding it, I moved my lips to his balls, licking around them and sucking each one gently. I heard him groan again at what I was doing; something he maybe never experienced before, the thought making me leak again from my pussy. "Lift up your legs a little, honey," I said to him. He did as I said and I fluttered my tongue on the sensitive area between his balls and ass. And then I slithered it to his puckered hole. Probing into it and flicking while my hand stroked his shaft. "Oh godddd, Ms Richardson..." He gripped my hair hard and I knew what I was doing was going to make him cum and fast. I quickly went down on his cock again, using the palms of both my hands to stroke him up and down. And then he let out a guttural cry and I held him deep in my mouth as his cum shot into it. I kept my mouth clamped on him deep, taking all of it and swallowing hungrily. Finally, when I knew he was drained, I pulled off him, kissing along the way and then climbed up next to him on the bed, smiling at him. "Now can that possibly be wrong, Brock?" I asked with a sly smile. "God...no. It was amazing. You are amazing. I'm blessed" I laughed. "We're both blessed. And it takes two, honey," I said. "Now what do you think? Are you ready for that steak?" "Uh huh, I'm starving." "Good, because I have two big rib eyes set to go. Go on downstairs and take a swim. Relax. Have some more food and I'll get everything ready." "Okay, Ms Richardson..." he said, getting up off the bed. I went into the bathroom to freshen up. I put the cover up top and shorts back on but didn't bother with my bikini, staying naked under them. As I changed, I peered out the bathroom window to see Brock, his cock now flaccid, as he put his swim trunks back on and dive into the pool. I watched him swim around, diving under the water, popping up. Wolf came to the edge of the pool and he splashed him with water, teasing the big dog. Brock's body language was now totally different; he was loose, relaxed, as if a huge burden had suddenly been lifted from him. And I knew I was responsible. A warm feeling gushed through me at the thought. He ate the steak with gusto. We both did. Chatting now mostly about the horses and the ranch. There was a pause in our conversation and I changed the subject. "Can I ask you something personal, Brock? If it's too embarrassing or you don't want to answer, you don't have to." "No, I'm sure it will be okay." I smiled. "Was this your first time?" He thought for a moment. "Technically no," he said. "In high school, before I gave my life to Christ, a buddy had a bachelor party. There were strippers. One of them did..." He looked at me. "Did what?" I asked. "I was going to say, did what you did to me, but it was nothing like that. Nothing like the love that you showed. It was all business and I really didn't enjoy it. Not long after that I became born again and....well you know the rest." "I see," I said, flattered at his words. With his mention of love in my sexual act, I again got that warm feeling . "Now can I ask you something, Ms Richardson. Something personal?" "Of course you can, honey." "Do you? Um...." He looked down for a moment. "You said you had barbecues for other interns before...and...I was wondering..." "Are you asking if I do this with all the interns?" He stared at me. It was what he was asking. "Brock, despite what we did today, I am truly not that kind of woman. I've never even thought about doing something like what we did with any employee, intern, or stranger for that matter. And I'm surprised you might even consider it..." I was stern in my response, even a little hurt. "I'm sorry, Ms Richardson," his head quickly hanging in remorse at his implication. "I didn't mean to...I...well I guess I was just puzzled; shocked really that you would with me. Why? Why me?" I didn't want to make him feel bad. It was an honest response for him to have. And my reaction to his question maybe was a bit unfeeling. I moved my hand to his and squeezed, looking him in the eye. "I don't know for sure, why you, Brock. You have a quality that I find attractive. And when I caught you glancing at my body..." "God, I'm sorry. It was obvious wasn't it? It's just that...you are so beautiful..." "Don't be sorry," I said, squeezing his hand. "It was adorable. And then when I felt your hands on me that day the warmblood was bucking. It touched something in me. I have to admit it ignited a desire for you, Brock." We stared at each other for a few moments in silence. The sexual tension was building again. I looked at Brock's plate. His steak was devoured. "I made a peach pie," I said, breaking the tension. "Care for some?" "Can I have some later?" he said, a hopeful look on his face. "That's what I was hoping you would say," I said with a smile and rising from my seat. He quickly got up as well, circling his hands around my waist from behind. I felt his hard cock poking into my ass cheeks. I reached for it. "Mmmmm, this will be my dessert." I took him to my living room. "We don't have to go upstairs," I said, untying my top and quickly kicking off my shorts. I lay back on my couch, keeping my green eyes on him while my hand moved languorously over my breasts and down to my pussy. "Do you want to fuck me now, Brock? I whispered in my most throaty, hoarse voice. He pulled down his trunks while nodding. "Yes...very much," he said as he moved his brawny body toward me. "Wait," I said and he stopped abruptly. I put a finger into my pussy, rubbing it around my wet slit and then pulled it out. "Taste," I commanded. He looked at my finger curiously. I pressed it to his lips. He awkwardly took it in his mouth and sucked it. I pulled it out. "Do you like it?" I asked. He nodded. "That's what you do to me, honey? That's how wet you've made me." I stared intently into his eyes. "Now give me that cock, Brock. Fuck me hard with it." I lifted my legs wide and up and he positioned his stiff pole over my V. I reached for it greedily and helped him, rubbing it around my labia and then guiding it into me. He pressed his strong body down on me as his cock filled me and I moaned loudly. He started to move in and out, my hips thrusting to meet his cock. My nails raked at his chest and I wrapped my legs around his back. I gripped him and cried out as the first orgasm drove through my body. I relaxed my hold on him, releasing my legs and then turning over onto my belly on the couch, raising my ass in the air. "Now this way, baby," I said, my hand rubbing my hot quivering mound. "Put your hands on my ass. Squeeze it. You can even slap it a little if you want.' I felt his hands on my ass. "Mmmmm god, yessss, Brock..." I murmured and then felt his cock enter my pussy from behind. As he slammed me from behind, I played with my breasts, taking one, bringing it to my mouth and sucking on the nipple, moaning loudly with each of his hard thrusts. "Yessss, Brock!" I cried. "Hard! Fuck me hard, baby!" Without a word, he followed my directions, pounding me hard as I rubbed my clit furiously. I screamed out as another orgasm ripped through me and then collapsed into the couch. I felt his cock slip out of me. I turned around. I knew he hadn't cum yet; he was still hard and long. "Mmmmm, baby, you are incredible. This is incredible." I said, referring to his cock as I took it and kissed it up and down. I pushed him onto his back on the couch. My hand still on his cock, I straddled him, slowly impaling myself on him. Once fully on him I grunted at the sensation. I began to slowly bounce on his cock, moving at my own rhythm. My pace increased and I arched back, feeling his cock stretch against my inner walls. I pulled myself back up and raked at his chest and hard abs with my long nails. He was staring at me and thrusting his hips up into me. I bent and kissed him darting my tongue into his mouth and then pulled it out and snaked it around his chest and nipples. He reached out for my breasts and cupped them in his big hands. I felt a jolt and moaned loudly. "Ohhhhhhhhhh! Yessssss!." His hands on them was like an electric shock. But I wanted more. I pushed his hands off them and took them in my own hands. I bent forward. I wanted his mouth on them."Take them in your mouth," I commanded. "Kiss them. Suck them." He quickly and willingly brought one to his lips, kissing it, sucking it, and then suckling. "Ahhhhhhhh!" I cried and wiggled my hips on his cock, rotating around it. I was close to a third orgasm. My body was now on fire and I was sweating profusely. With one hand I cradled his head to my breast, with the other I reached behind me and stroked the base of his cock, releasing two fingers to scrape his balls and anus, while clenching on the rest of his cock with my pussy. I pushed a nail into his tight bud and I heard him groan into my breast at what I was doing. I stroked harder. My body began to quake. I let out my own long loud moan just when I felt him fill my pussy with his warm cum. I continued to rock on him as he lovingly suckled my breasts, making my orgasm last and last until, finally, it subsided. I collapsed on him, keeping his cock in me. I licked at the sweat that had formed on his chest and neck and cooed into his ear. Our bodies were stuck together by our own sweat and fluids. He had his arm around me, holding me to him. His cock was shriveling. I pulled off of him, looking down at him as he stayed lying on the couch. I saw his still smooth face; his youth. And then I saw my own dead son in him and it hit me; remorse and disgust at what I'd done. I needed to be alone. "Brock, honey, you don't mind if I go shower, do you? And then I think I should get you back to your dorm. I know you leave early tomorrow." He stared back at me. He could see the change in my demeanor. "What about the pie?" he asked. "I'll cut you a big piece to bring home," I said. "Can I swim again?" "Yes, of course," I said. "You swim while I shower and then we'll get going." "I don't have to be back that early," he said, hopefully. "I have a key." I stared at him sternly. "But you should, Brock." His face darkened. Whatever good mood I had put him earlier was gone. "Okay," he said and got up, putting his swim trunks back on. We were quiet on the ride back to his dorm. Just before we arrived, he asked if he did something wrong? I shook my head. "No, you did nothing wrong, Brock. Nothing at all." But I said it with a hard edge to my voice and my answer didn't satisfy him. I pulled up to his dorm. "Here you are," I said. He stared at me with a forlorn look on his face. "If you want I can stay," he said hopefully. "I can tell the group I'm not going." I shook my head. "No, don't do that, Brock. This was...let's just leave it at what it was, okay." "Can I see you again when I come back?" "I don't think so, Brock. Just know, you did absolutely nothing wrong." I reached out to stroke his cheek. "Now you do good down there; that country needs a lot of help. But please be safe." And then I kissed him lightly on the cheek. He got out of the car. I started to watch him and then drove away. After driving for about a mile, I pulled over and started to cry. "Why, Kay? Why the remorse? You helped make that boy a man?" I said, hoping to soothe her obvious guilt. "It's not just that, Frank," she said. "When I dropped him off it reminded me so much of dropping Gregory off at the bus station before his last leave. Before..." I heard her cry and let her. "And after Brock and I fucked and I looked at him. I saw my son. It disgusted me. I fucked my own son. What kind of sick woman am I?" "Kay, I understand what you might think, but trust me on this; you did not fuck your son. You gave a young man pleasure he very much needed. You confuse that with your motherly instincts. This was not your son, but you still grieve for him. As you should. Sometimes that grief can cloud your thoughts. You are not a sick woman. You are a beautiful, caring, special woman. And one, right now, I'm very proud to know." There was silence after I said what I said. "Really, Frank..." she said hopefully. "You don't think I did something wrong with Brock. You don't think I'm a pervert." "Hmmmm, if you are a pervert, what does that make me," I said playfully, hoping to lighten her mood. I heard her laugh. "Mmmmm, baby, perv me anytime," she said and I knew my talk had helped her. "In a few days, Kay, I'll do more than that," I said. "God I can't wait," she said. "Because..." I waited for her to finish. "What, Kay?" "Because I think I'm in love with you, Frank," she said. There was silence again on the line as I thought about her words. "And I think the feeling is mutual," I replied before hanging up.