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The Last Chapter

By: zrob



THE FIRST CHAPTER

Jake Boehmon had just seen his weekend plans shot to hell. It was late Friday afternoon when he had gone to the gym for his first real workout in a month. A sophomore at the University of Cincinnati, he had been training hard in the off-season in anticipation of his move from strong safety to outside linebacker. A stringent lifting and nutrition regimen had packed a solid fifteen pounds on his 6'1" frame putting him at a rock hard 225 pounds. A hamstring pull had set him back a bit but his trainer had cleared him to start back with the heavy free-weight lifts that football required. 

After his workout, he was heading back down to school to hang with some of his friends who were in summer school. His father was in Germany for a month on business and his younger sister was a counselor at her summer soccer camp. He had told his mother, Randi, that he wouldn't be home until Tuesday or Wednesday the following week and, at her request, he promised to call if his plans changed. But during his third set of squats, a sharp pain shot through his injured hamstring and he hobbled painfully out to his car in a seriously bad mood. No longer interested in partying with his buddies, Jake headed home.

As he walked into the garage, he was more than a little suprised to see Paul Mason's Jaguar pulled in next to his mother's BMW X-5. Jake had dated Paul's daughter Erin for quite a while before breaking it off a few months earlier. His friends thought he was crazy, Erin was hot as hell with long blonde hair and a great rack and was alot of fun to be around. But his buddies didn't know that Erin's mother, Janet, had seduced Jake when he and his parents had visited the Mason estate last summer. Jake still got together with Mrs. Mason from time to time and it just didn't feel right to continue to date, and screw, her daughter. Plus, as Mrs. Mason had accurately pointed out their first time together, she was, in fact, a "much bigger slut" than her daughter. 

Jake knew immediately why Paul Mason was at his home. A memory he had suppressed years ago bubbled quickly to the surface. His mother was an incredibly attractive woman, and even now in her late forties, still turned heads. A petite woman with long blonde highlighted hair and breath-taking blue eyes, she kept herself in great shape. She had a tiny waist and terrific legs which she usually showed off in short skirts or tight jeans. She also had a weakness for sexy shoes which usually boasted 4 inch heels. Although she was not busty, her perky breasts were still firm and Jake had noticed that she often went bra-less but still looked terrific.

So although he was used to the attention she received from men, it still made him jealous. The memory that was rushing back had occured at a company picnic that he had attended with his mom, dad and sister years ago. He must have been about thirteen at the time and his mother's company had a big day of fun and games planned at a local park. Late in the afternoon, he was walking through the packed parking lot looking for his mother's minivan. He had left his mitt in the car and he wanted it to play softball with his dad. He spotted the van, which his father had backed into the parking space, with its rear facing a thick woods, several car lengths down and he cut behind some other vehicles as he approached it.

Abruptly, he heard his mother laughing and when he looked up he saw her standing behind the van, tucked from sight, but she wasn't alone. She was with a co-worker he had met, a young black man named Marcus. Marcus had played football in college just a few years earlier and Jake had always looked up to him because of this. But at that moment, for some reason Jake felt that he was intruding and he ducked behind a car, peering over its hood. Clearly, his mother and Marcus hadn't noticed him because they were only paying attention to one another. His mother looked great in a turquoise dress that showed off her toned and tanned body and slender legs. Her long hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and Jake had noticed, when they had left home, that she was wearing more make-up than she usually did and that he lips were glistening in a cinnamon shade.

As he watched, he heard his mother laugh again at something Marcus had said. He was standing very close to her, running his hand lightly down he bare shoulder, behind her arm to softly take her hand in his. He pulled her gently towards him and Jake could see some resistance on the part of his mother, before she turned and quickly glanced back over her shoulder. Jake ducked down but when he slowly raised back up,he saw that Marcus had pulled his mother into his arms and was kissing her. Stunned, he saw his mother's arm's tighten around his neck and he could see their mouths opening and closing and their tongues dueling. When Marcus dropped his hand to cup his mother's ass, Jake backed slowly away from the line of cars and sprinted back towards the park, feeling both hurt and ashamed.

Although he never told anyone about what he had seen, and managed to box the incident away in his subconcious, he found himself being more and more possesive and jealous when it came to his mother. He remembered his last few years in school, when football was coming together for him and his parents would attend his games or other school functions. Although many of the other football moms were younger and attractive in their own way, Randi Boehmon always had an aura around her that Jake couldn't place. Aside from the fact that she dressed a little sexier and seemed to wear her make-up differently, his mom just seemed to have an almost palatable effect on the men, and boys, she would meet. He remembered the anger he felt when he would catch guys staring openly at his mom when she was in the stands. In particular, he hated the way two of his teammates, Ryan Grant and Curtis Adams, would grin and whisper whenever they saw his mom, like they were in on some dark secret.

But that afternoon in his garage, Jake couldn't pretend any longer. He knew what his mom doing, and with a grim look on his face, he limped inside his home.

THE SECOND CHAPTER

When Jake had told her that he would be in Cinncinati for the weekend and longer, Randi immediately started to make plans. With her husband, Bill, out of the country and her daughter at camp, Randi had gotten dangerously horny when she found herself alone with her sexy son. Ever since she caught him screwing his girlfriend's mother, Randi had struggled with keeping her sinful thoughts under control. She managed by keeping a steady stream of young lovers busy, both in and around her own town, and on the road when she would travel for work. 

She had called her longtime boyfriend, Steve, to see if he could fly in from Chicago for the weekend but he was in Palm Springs. Her local set of boy toys, Ryan and Curtis, were also unavailable so she called Paul Mason on a whim. Jake had dated his daughter for a while, and when the Boehmons had visited their home last summer, Paul and Randi had started a brief affair. When she called him on his cell, he was excited to hear from her and he quickly agreed to drive up. Although he wasn't her first choice, Randi looked forward to his visit. A very wealthy, self assured, most would say cocky, man he was handsome with long flowing salt-and-pepper hair and a barrel chest. Paul liked to be a little more rough than her other lovers and Randi willingly played along.

Upstairs in the master bedroom suite, Randi poured Paul a glass of her husband's best scotch from the small wet-bar that was attached to the built-in entertainment center. Paul settled into the big leather chair where her husband liked to read as she excused herself to change.

When she returned, she was wearing a short, silk black robe over top of a set of sheer,black lace-top thigh highs and black ankle strap sandals with 4 inch heels. Her luxurious blonde hair hung well past her shoulders and had been straightened with a flat iron, framing her face beautifully. She had applied the dark, smoky eye-shadow that she wore for all her lovers and her lips glistened wetly in a soft red shade.

She walked sexily on her high heels to the wet bar, noting the hungry look in Paul's eyes and picked up a pack of Virginia Slims Menthol 120s. Flipping the top of the hard pack, she slowly removed one of the long, white cigarettes and walked back towards Paul. When he pulled a lighter out of his pants, Randi bent over to accept a light bringing the cigarette to her wetly shining lips, allowing Paul to look down the top of her robe. She took a slow drag, and tilting her chin upward, released a long, thin stream up towards the vaulted ceiling.

Returning to the bar, Randi poured herself a glass of Chardonnay and, holding her cigarette and wineglass in the same hand, walked seductively back to Paul. He pulled her across his lap, causing her to shriek with laughter, her free hand draped back around his shoulders for support. He crushed her hungrily to hs lips, his tongue forceful as it sought hers, his passion building. He ran his his hand up one of her slender calves as Randi spread her legs. His thick middle finger pushed through her swollen pussy lips and quickly found the thick pad of her love spot on the front of her pussy wall, rubbing it vigorously.

Randi moaned softly into his mouth as they continued to kiss, before Paul removed his finger and pulled apart the top of her robe. He licked and kissed his way down her supple neck and squeezed one of her perky breasts roughly, before taking a hardened nippled into his mouth. Randi inhaled sharply as he sucked her, her head arched backward, her mouth open in an expression of lust.

After enjoying his attention, Randi pushed him up from her and got off his lap saying "Baby, I want to do you. I want to to taste your big cock!!"

She took a drag off her cigarette and crushed it out in and ashtray on the wet bar. Standing directly in front of Paul, she slowly undid the belt of her robe and pulled it open. She pushed it back off her shoulders and allowed it to pool at her feet. Paul's eyes were riveted to the MILF's perfectly toned body clad only in her thigh highs and heels. As he watched, Randi ran her hands slowly down over her breasts, across her flat tummy, then between her legs. His pulse began to hammer when she started to rub her cleanly shaved pussy, her fingers on her pussy lips. Randi gasped when she began to work her swollen clit, loving the sensations that shot through her body.

Walking closer to Paul, she leaned over to kiss him as she undid the buttons of his shirt, pulling it open and gently massaging his thick, hairy chest. With a last lingering kiss, and a flick of her tongue, Randi knelt between his legs and began to rub his hard cock through his khakis. She kept her smoldering blue eyes locked onto his as she slowly lowered his zipper, reaching inside his pants. She pulled his engorged member through his open fly and began to gently rub her hands over his hard shaft, her lips pursed in a wetly shinig "O".

When she leaned down, her tongue spiraled around his cock's mushroom head already sticky with pre-cum. She held his balls with one hand as she stroked him with the other, her tongue driving him crazy as she used just the tip to lightly lick the top of his dick.

Unable to control himself any longer, Paul grabbed the back of Randi's head and forced her mouth down onto his straining dick. A muffled laugh escaped Randi as he began to fuck her mouth, pumping his shaft deep into her warm wetness. Pleased with how crazy she had made him, she moaned and slurped as she blew him, both hands now working with her luscious mouth.

Paul kept his hand on the back of Randi's head as she performed, groaning ot loud and urging her on.

"That's it! Suck my cock you little slut!!! You like sucking my big, fat cock . . . Don't you Bitch?!"

Knowing what he wanted to hear, without removing her mouth from his cock, Randi moaned enthusiastically "MMMMMmmmmmHHHHHmmmmmm!!!!"

"Yeah . . . Your'e my little cum slut . . . aren't you?! I'm gonna fuck you good today. Show you what you've been missing! You'll be begging for it . . . Won't you, you little whore?!"

Randi's head was now bobbing furiously up and down over his hard shaft, her mouth and tongue expertly bringing Paul near climax.

"Billyboy doesn't know how to fuck you . . . Does he? He doesn't know that his slutty wife likes it hard . . . Does he . . ."

Paul stopped his rant abruptly and Randi sensing something was wrong, pulled her lips from his cock with a loud pop. Panting, she looked up and said:

"It's okay,Baby! I want you to cum in my mouth . . . " before she noted that Paul was looking over her shoulder with a look of shock and horror on his face.

When Randi turned, still holding his hard cock in her hands, she too was stunned to see her son limp slowly into her bedroom, glowering murderously.

THE THIRD CHAPTER

Jake had quietly climbed the stairs, his injured hamstring causing him to move slowly, and he noticed that one of the double doors to his parent's bedroom was partially open. He could hear people talking inside and he recognized his mother's and Paul's voice confirming his suspicions. 

He stood in the hallway and looked through the inch-wide crack between the door that was open and the door frame, still hidden from sight. Inside he saw his mother standing in front of Paul, pushing a short black robe off her shoulders, now naked in a pair of thigh highs and stiletto heels. As he watched, his mother french-kissed Paul and then knelt in front of him, unzipping his pants. When she took his cock into her mouth, Jake felt his anger near bursting, but also found himself turned on by the sight of his beautiful, nearly naked mother sucking her lover's cock. He was mesmerized by the rhythmic bobbing of her head over Paul's lap, and he could hear her moans mix with the wet slurping of a well performed blow job.

But when Paul started in, calling her his little slut, Jake snapped and he dragged his injured leg behind him as he entered the room.

Jake noted the fear on Paul's face and the shock on his mother's when they finally noticed that they weren't alone. His mother got to her feet and ran to him with her arms extended. She recognized the look in her son's eyes and knew that Paul was in serious trouble.

"No Jake! . . . Stop! . . . Don't . . .!" she pleaded, and Jake briefly took his eyes from Paul to stare at his mother's naked form, his eyes drawn like a magnet to her flushed breasts, then lower to her shaved pussy and those great legs of hers looking incredible in the lace-top thigh highs. Sensing an opening, Paul broke behind Randi and ran towards the door. Jake could only reach around his mother to throw a hard shot that landed on the side of his face and propelled him out the door.

Randi grabbed Jake by the arm and by the time he shook free, he looked down from the landing to see Paul sprinting towards the garage. He moved quickly to follow him, but his hamstring twinged painfully causing him to give up the chase. 

He turned and limped back into his parent's bedroom to find his mother standing next to the bed, still naked, a look of shock and grief on her face.

"I'm so sorry Jake! . . . I never intended for any of this to happen! . . . I . . ."

Jake grabbed her tiny arms in his strong hands and shook her hard.

"SHUT UP! Shut up! . . . Don't you fucking lie to me! I know what you've been doing! I saw you with Marcus!!"

At this his mother blanched, his anger was frightening and she was stunned that he would mention her first lover by his name.

"Mr. Mason's right! . . . You are just a little slut! . . . a whore!! You need some cock?! Huh? . . . Is that what you need?!!!"

Jake walked his mother backwards and pushed her onto the bed. He pulled off his T-shirt as Randi looked at him stunned.

"No Jake! . . . Don't do this! . . . I know you're angry . . . But I'm your mother! Don't! Please . . . Stop!!"

Jake pulled his baggy shorts to the floor and it was Randi's turn to stare at he son's naked body. She had seen his cock when she caught him fucking Janet Mason, and knew that he was quite large, but now, seeing it up close for the first time, it was even bigger than she imagined.

Jake pulled his mother's legs apart and leaned into her. Randi struggled beneath him and he pinned her arms above her head with one hand. His cock was rock hard and she was still wet from her earlier foreplay with Paul and, in horror, she felt the fat head of his cock stretching her pussy lips before he plunged his entire length deep into her warm, wet tunnel. 

Jake began to saw his cock ruthlessly into his mother who was still futilely struggling beneath him. As he thrust into her pussy, he grabbed her chin with his hand, crushing his lips to hers, his tongue pushing against her clenched teeth. Randi tried to force him off her, but he was much too strong, consumed by anger and lust. Even worse, her pussy was tingling as it seemed that every hard ridge of his cock found a spot within her that caused bolts of pleasure to pulse through her body.

As he continued to roughly fuck Randi, her body betrayed her by stopping its struggle and beginning to move eagerly beneath her son, her hip driving off the bed to lustily meet his savage thrusts, her hard nipples rubbing deliciously against his smooth, deep chest.

With an anguished moan, she tore her arms from above her head and wrapped them around Jake's broad shoulders, pulling him hard against her writhing body. She opened her mouth and her tongue snaked out to meet his, kissing him passionately. Randi had given in to her most secret desire, . . . she was fucking her son.

Jake's thrusts increased in speed, his body slapping wetly against his mother's. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his calf muscles, his big, thick cock stretched her pussy lips and she could feel her swollen clit being pulled inside with each downward thrust of his hips.

Jake pulled his lips from his mother's, both of them breathing heavily. He felt his balls begin to tighten and knew that he couldn't last much longer. Randi sensed this as well and pleaded with him:

"Fuck me Baby! Keep fucking your mother!! I need this so fucking bad!!!"

Randi felt her own orgasm build as her son's long, deep thrusts pounded into her yielding body, rolling her hips in a lust-crazed dance.

She took her son's face in her hands and pulled him back to her wetly, shining lips, her mouth open expectantly. As he pressed his mouth to hers, the first jet of his hot cum ripped, almost painfully, out of his cock filling his mother's womb with his seed. Randi's body shuddered beneath his bulk, her pussy searing, her orgasm explosive, and she groaned loudly as rope after thick rope of jizz shot into her.

As their orgasms began to subside, Jake looked down into his mother's beautiful blue eyes, their chests pounding as they softly kissed, their tongues darting into each other's mouth as his cock reflexively continued to spurt, buried to the hilt in her warm, wet tunnel. 

He rolled off his mother with a loud exhalation, staring at the ceiling in his parent's bedroom, his passion and anger completely spent. Randi raised up on one elbow,looking at her son with concern, her french-manicured lying on his chest, feeling his heart pounding.

"It's all right, Baby . . . It's all right." she whispered softly, adding "It's just sex . . . That's what I tell all my lovers."

Jake turned his head back towards his mother, a pleading look in his eyes. She smiled reassuringly and leaned over to kiss him, softly at first, and then with more passion, her tongue sweetly probing his mouth.

When Jake pushed himself up to sit against the headboard, Randi rolled out of bed and walked to the wet bar. Jake blushed when he caught himself checking out her tight, little ass, her muscles bulging seductively as she walked on her high heel shoes. She pulled a beer out of the mini-fridge and walked back to the bed carrying the distinctive green and white pack containing her cigarettes.


The Last Chapter



Edward and I had a very unusual beginning as far as love affairs go. He was a journalist for a large, well respected newspaper; I was a crafter of words in a different way. He dealt in facts, I dealt in opinions. He wanted to cut to the chase, dig down into the meat of an issue; I wanted to skate around the edge in an ever shrinking circle until I reached the central issue. He lived in the real world; I tried to avoid it. We seemed like two disparate souls without any way of connecting. But connect we did, and though I don't know what, if anything, our future holds, it has been a ride I won't ever forget.

About a year ago, on the publication of my first book, I was sent around the country on a signing tour. It sounded exciting when I first heard that I was going, but increasingly, it became exhausting. I never knew what city I was in when I woke up in the morning, and I was always surrounded by people, by felt completely alone. The people were nice, and flattering as they asked me to sign their books, behaving as though I had committed some incredible bit of wisdom to paper; however, I knew that not one of them had a clue what my life was like, or who I was on the inside. 

New York was like a dream, when I finally got there; for a small town girl, a huge, culturally diverse metropolis like the Big Apple was overwhelming. My senses were assailed by the ceaseless sounds of traffic and people, the dichotomous image of the rich and the homeless, passing each other in the streets, the smells of hot dogs and diesel fuel, and the taste of the city's grit on my tongue. It was miraculous. 

Signing books in New York was unlike the rest of the cities I had been to. The people were alternately gushing with praise or completely disconnected, handing me my book with a bored sigh and telling me their name. It was the most exhausting night of my tour yet, and I was feeling anxious and depressed. 

As I wrapped up the signing, and retreated to the back room of the store with my agent, I relished the escape. When the store manager let me out the back to have a cigarette, something I had picked up again on my tour, I felt an enormous weight lifted from me. I thought about the veterans that came to me, thanking me for my words; telling me it was good to know that someone understood what they were going through. I had really written the book for them, but it seemed that most of them would never read the words of hope I had so diligently slaved over, and struggled to imprint on hearts as well as the page. I was quickly becoming disheartened by the whole affair.

That was the moment Kila came into my life. My agent poked her head out the back door of the building, where I was savoring a vague moment of solitude amid the cacophony of horns, truck brakes, people hailing cabs, children crying, and people asking me to sign their books. She looked one way, then the other; finally spotting me as I tried to merge with the wall behind me in the shadow of the building. 

"Can you stand to do one more?" she asked, the annoying cheer in her voice grating on my last nerve.

"Why? The signing ended twenty minutes ago," I replied, with much less animosity than I was feeling.

"There are two reporters here; It would be a good idea," she responded sharply, but in a lowered voice that told me they were nearby.

"Sure," I said, "but then I'm going to go get a drink. I need it."

The woman who emerged into the dimly lit alley behind the store was tall and slender, like me, only she had a graceful build as opposed to my athletic one. She had short blond hair, with dark roots, which stuck out from her head in a careless way which instantly inspired my envy. My own long curls caused me no end of frustration each day as I tried to tame them into some semblance of appropriate behavior. Beautiful, in a tough way, her eyes said that she'd seen it all, and she was a survivor.

She put her hand out, and said at once, in a husky voice which seemed to caress me a little too intimately, "Kila Mackenzie, I read your book, and I loved it."

She went on to reveal that she had covered the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan for a brief time as a photographer for my favorite newspaper, and found my book to be honest and raw. She said that, as she read my words, she could tell that I, too, had experienced the Post Traumatic Stress that many of her colleagues and our troops were coming home with. "You weren't just a repeating a line of bullshit like a lot of others do."

This struck me, violently. I had tried so hard to express the feelings and experience of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, without revealing too much of myself, and this woman was calling me out on it. I was shaken by her blunt candor, and said so. One of the things I said in my book was "no one has time for your bullshit," and I meant it. 

"Don't worry, I'm not going to put you in the uncomfortable position of telling me to fuck off by asking you how you ended up with PTSD, I just wanted you to know how important your book is." she smiled. "I'd like to introduce my friend and coworker, Edward Warren. Eddie, this is the author I've been telling you about, Samantha Barrett; Samantha, my best friend Eddie." I looked into a pair of blue eyes that burned with an intensity I'd never seen before, and took a hand that was hard and warm in the evening chill. "It is very nice to meet you," I said in a stunted, awkward sort of way. 

"You too," he replied with a voice that revealed precisely how uninterested he was in the whole exchange. He had a good four inches on me, and was fit and rugged. The dark hair was a striking contrast to his eyes, and he attracted me like a magnet in a visceral way.

"Are you sad that the book tour is over?" Kila asked me? "or relieved."

"A little bit of both, to be honest," I answered. "I get a little claustrophobic around a lot of people, so it has been a bit tough. I prefer meeting people like this."

"What? In a dark alley?" She joked.

"Yeah, I've always found alleys to be great places to meet people." I tartly replied.

"Well, if you would be interested, we'd love to take you for that drink you said you needed."

My agent, nodded her head vigorously from the doorway. I think she was desperate to get me some more publicity, and befriending a couple of reporters from an internationally read paper couldn't hurt.

"Sure, that would be great," I said to them, "but I really don't know this part of the city at all."

"No problem, where are you staying, we'll go somewhere near there." Kila replied.

It was at that moment that I realized, I had no idea where I was staying, and looked at my agent, who supplied the answer.

"I know the perfect place." Kila announced., her friend looking less and less thrilled at the prospect of spending another moment in my company. 

"Kila, I'm sure-- Edward?" he nodded, "Edward has better things to do than to spend an evening with us." Although I was intrigued, and would have liked to do nothing better than spend an evening with him.

"No, trust me, he doesn't." She answered with a snide look in his direction, which he answered with a smirk. 

"Well, let me get my things together and we'll go." I stated, with a lot more enthusiasm than I felt, but a dawning sense of something stirring in my abdomen. Fear? Nerves? Attraction?

That evening, Edward relaxed a little after a couple of drinks-- alright, it may have been more like four or five drinks-- and though still quiet and reserved, did contribute some funny, intelligent comments to the conversation. And though I never really got a sense of him as a person, I was strongly attracted to him. I had told myself, as I was gathering my things, that I could handle an hour and a drink or two with these people, but two drinks turned into three, and then into food, and then into a couple more. Edward got a call, and excused himself to take it, and Kila continued to enthrall me with her tales of life in the city, and her experiences as a photographer around the world. When he returned, looking flustered, he said "I've got to go. It was nice to meet you."

"You need to get the fuck away from her." Kila said to him, confusing me thoroughly. I thought for a moment she meant me.

"I know," he answered, extending his hand to me, "I know."

"She makes you miserable, and I hate it," she said to him, with some real emotion in her voice, as I finally realized that they weren't talking about me.

"I'll call you tomorrow." he told her, and kissing her on the forehead, he left.

Kila, took a long sip of her drink, and then put it on the table with a sigh. "His girlfriend is a cunt. Sorry to say it, I know how most people feel about that word, but she really is."

I laughed, and told her "I actually love the word. Chaucer used it-- the wife of Bath had a magnificent one-- why shouldn't we embrace it; take it back."

She looked at me candidly, nakedly, and I saw pain in her face. "He spent way too much time in the war zone. He saw too much, and needs to find out how to come back. I knew him before, and during, and now that he is trying to transition back, he is a complete fucking mess. You know. You wrote about it. What's the old line? 'you can't go home again?'" 

"I think it is all too true. So many people who have been there, seen what they've seen, what you've seen, can't come home. It's the nature of the culture." 

"War brings out the best and the worst in people, and you find that all those little delusions you had, about people, about the things you thought you needed or wanted, about your life and yourself... they just evaporate. Then, you come back, and everyone around you seems shallow and vapid." She stared off, seeing something that wasn't there as she talked. "Yeah, I worry about him. He doesn't trust anyone, and he can't relate anymore. I think I'm his only real friend."

I thought how sad it was that such a brilliant, handsome man, could be so troubled and hurt. Like a moth to a flame, I was hooked. The moth draws ever closer, never really seeing how dangerous the flame is. 

"He is very attractive," I said, trying to sound less interested than I was, "his girlfriend must care about him a great deal."

"I don't really know. She's a strange bird. She has been on him to get married for a couple of years now, but he keeps putting her off. You know, that inability to really conceive of the future? Anyway, I'm glad that he hasn't asked her. I think he is just too far gone right now to get into a marriage. He can barely keep his own life under control-- he gets in fights, he drinks too much, he doesn't sleep-- how the fuck would he keep a marriage together." 

"Yeah, marriage is tough." I knew very well how tough it really was. I was three days away from signing my divorce papers, and still reeling from the failure. 

We talked a lot more that night, and five hours after we had arrived, Kila paid the tab, even though I offered to split it with her. As we parted, she thanked me, and asked if I came to the city often. I told her that I probably would be now that the book tour was over, and I was starting a new project. When she asked for my number, I gladly gave it to her, marveling at how quickly she had become a friend.

Three months later, I had fallen in love with New York, and didn't know why I ever felt the sounds and sights, and smells were overwhelming. The city that never sleeps became a haven for me, and was starting to really help my career. I was making my first documentary, about the same soldiers I had written so passionately about, and I had moved. 

I was living in New York, in a third floor walk up that never seemed to get warm. It was a decent neighborhood, and only two blocks from the subway so I was happy. My friendship with Kila was growing every day, and I counted her among the closest of my friends. There were a few awkward moments for me. When she casually mentioned how hard it was to meet women, I realized that she was a lesbian, and wasn't sure how to feel about it. On the other hand, she had never looked at me in any way other than friendly, so I quickly got over it. I didn't think there was anything wrong with it, I just thought it might be uncomfortable if she started to be interested in me. Hell, I'd experimented with a couple women in my younger days-- mostly just awkward kissing and fondling-- and thought it was really erotic. 

Another one of the awkward moments occurred when she revealed that she was sleeping with Edward. We were sitting in a little restaurant having Thai and drinks, and I was instantly confused and jealous. I saw him about once a week, when Kila and I would go to dinner, and though we weren't friends, by any stretch of the imagination, I was getting to know him a little. He had a quick wit and a quick, if always tempered by bitterness, smile. Between us, there was always a little reservation, like a hesitancy or a tentativeness that I couldn't explain, but we had Kila there to bridge the gap.

And, without even thinking about it, I had become extremely attracted to him. He was raw sexual power, so when she told me she was having sex with him, I was stunned by the envy I felt, and a little baffled by the idea.

She saw my confusion in my face, and laughed. "is there anything you wouldn't do for your best friend?" she asked me. I thought for a moment, then shook my head in a subtle, unsure way. "They split up. Last month. He met someone else, but he isn't ready to move on. I figured, I'd be his rebound, that way, he can move on to this new one with a clean slate. Besides, he thinks the new one is relationship material, not fucking material." 

She tipped her head, and peered at me in a strange way. "He hurts. All the time. And he feels completely alone. If I can make him forget for an hour, if I can make him feel connected to another human being, I'll do it. I have slept with men before you know. It isn't that weird." I nodded, but was unsure. It seemed strange no matter what she said. He was her best friend. Sleeping with your best friend is never a good plan, and I said so.

"I think we'll be okay," she responded. "He doesn't want me, and though the sex is incredible, I don't really want him. It's the liking chicks thing. I won't fall in love with him."

"But what if he falls in love with you," I said feeling a twinge of regret at the idea.

"He won't. Trust me." 

We sat in silence for a little while, and I finally had to ask, "how incredible is it?"

Kila threw her head back and laughed out loud. "The best guy I've ever had, and better than a lot of the women." she said. "have you ever had sex with a woman?" she asked me.

"There were a couple of women I screwed around with back in college, but no."

"Well, the thing about women is, they've got the same equipment. They know what to do. It is usually much better, but he knows what he is doing," she lowered her voice, "he makes me come like a hot slot machine-- I just keep paying out." As she said this, she got a dreamy look on her face. "That's what I'll miss."

I was suddenly quiet, and she instantly picked up on my mood. She uncrossed her legs, and leaned across the table asking "what is it?"

"I've never had an orgasm before," I admitted, feeling my face get hot.

"Never?!" she demanded, a little too loudly. The couple at the next table looked over at us crankily.

"Well, never with another person. By myself, I usually can, but never with someone else."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously, and it was my turn to put my drink down and sigh. I confessed to her. I told her the story I had never told another soul. And when I was done telling, in the vaguest way possible, she sat back. "So your boyfriend raped you." she stated, factually.

"I don't know about that. I mean he would never have even thought it was rape. He didn't hold me down or anything." I insisted a little lamely.

"Yeah, you said no, he said yes. That is rape. No wonder you can't get off. The first guy you ever sleep with ends up raping you before you can figure out how to enjoy yourself. Talk about trust issues!" She drummed her fingers on the table. "Did you really stay with him?"

"For another six months." I answered.

"You need to find someone you feel safe with. That'll do it. You should think about going to bed with Eddie. That's one thing he always is-- safe." 

I looked at her as though she had lost her mind. "Kil," I said, "you are crazy. Have you forgotten that he is screwing you? And besides, he's into someone else."

"How do you know it isn't you?" she asked in a challenging, amused way.

"Because he barely talks to me, and he hardly looks twice at me," I answered promptly, but I thought of the times our eyes had met over dinners the three of us had shared. It was like planets colliding. His blue eyes, normally empty, would blaze to life and hit me in a physical way. It always felt like he was looking into me instead of at me. And there were a couple of times when I had caught him eyeing me, looking at me in that way men have. The look of ownership and pure lust. I shook it off, and shook my head. "no." I stated definitively.

"Well, whatever, Sam. The two of you do have some powerful chemistry." 

The rest of our meal passed in more lighthearted talk, and though we laughed, and talked about all sorts of other things, I couldn't get her question out of my head: "how do you know it isn't you?"

Two weeks later, everything changed. Kila and I met for lunch at our favorite restaurant. She had Edward in tow, which seemed a bit odd since I knew that he worked through lunch almost every day. Kila had a troubled look on her face, and I was immediately worried. 

"God Kila, what's wrong?" I asked. I had never seen her looking like that. Normally strong and in control, she looked like she was ready to cry. 

"My brother is in the hospital; he had a heart attack. I have to catch a plane in two hours." she said despondently. Her face was a grotesque mask of pain, and I noticed that she was clinging to Edwards hand as though she might be lost without it. 

She filled me in on what she knew, and we talked a bit about family, and what it was like to see their mortality. Edward sat at her side, with his arm around her, supporting her, lending her some of his strength. Then, she cracked a broken, half-smile and asked "can you do me a favor?"

"What do you need? I'll do whatever I can." I told her meaning every word. I hated to see her so afraid and off-kilter.

"Eddie needs a date for this award thing he has to go to tonight. Can you go?"

"Kila," he interrupted, "I don't have to go."

"Of course you do," she said. "After all, you're probably going to win."

"I don't mind," I assured them. Realistically, I wasn't doing much outside of working on the docomeentary. It certainly didn't fill my time.

Edward looked a little wary, but said "okay, it's at seven."

I looked at Kila, and she winked. "Is there anything else I can do?" I asked.

"Water my plants, and feed my cat. Eddie will forget." She replied. She stood up, and said that she had to go pack some things and get to the airport.

Edward, with more emotion than I'd ever seen on his face before, stood up and said "I'll go with you." Then, with hardly a glance at me, said "I'll pick you up at six-thirty."

"Yeah, okay." I responded, suddenly feeling awkward, and intrusive. "Kila, call me if you need to talk." We parted in haste as my friend worriedly raced off with her solace at her side to get to the airport.

Sure enough, Edward did win the award that night. The name of the award doesn't matter, but it was, nonetheless, a prestigious award for investigative journalism that brought major attention to him, and consequently to me as I stood nervously by his side. He had done a series on the abuses taking place in Iraqi prisons, which I remembered being very impressed by. 




The Last Chapter



After the dinner, he seemed agitated, and on the way home, I asked him about it. 

He glanced over at me with a wry smile, and said "just the typical shit. These people don't have any idea what it is like over there, and they never will. They walk around in their cozy little bubbles, patting people like me on the back and saying how exciting it must be to cover a war. They are so ignorant."

"But there is something exciting about it isn't there?" I challenged.

He exhaled in a rather tired way, but rather than arguing, he merely said, "yeah. I suppose there is. At least at first. And there's the story. What we're doing there today is going to change the face of geopolitics. It is going to change the world as we know it. I have a front row seat to that. So yeah; to that extent, I guess there is something exciting about it. But when people you know are being blown apart, it sort of loses its appeal." He had a look on his face that told me he was no longer with me in the car, but back there; lost in the memories that haunted him.

We didn't talk much the rest of the ride home, it was only a few minutes after all, and I really didn't know what to say. When he pulled up in front of my building, I turned to him saying, "Edward, I'm really sorry. I know it's been really hard for you." He didn't say anything; instead, he kept looking at his hands on the steering wheel. "Congratulations on your award. I remember the series; you definitely deserved it."

He turned a little in his seat, and looked at me, into me, I should probably say; that's how it always felt, and he just said "thanks for coming, Sam. You..." he paused. "You looked really great."

I thanked him appropriately, and said goodnight, not certain whether or not I was disappointed that he hadn't tried anything.

Kila returned four days later, much relieved at her brother's condition, and was back to her old self when we met for lunch. "He's much better, and he's home. Hopefully now he'll start taking care of himself." She paused with a knowing smile, and asked, "how was your night out with Eddie?" So I told her all about it, as well as how terribly I had felt about our conversation in the car.

"So that's it?" she asked looking a bit dumbfounded.

"Yeah. That's it. What were you expecting?"

"Well, to be honest, I sort of expected that the two of you would have ended up in the sack! I mean there's a hell of a lot of chemistry between you."

"Right. That's me. I always go for guys who are fucking their lesbian best friends."

"Oh please! You are dying to nail him, and you know it."

"Kila...." I pleaded. This was not a conversation I wanted to have. I mean, to be completely honest, I did want him. In fact, I had spent the rest of the evening after he dropped me off in bed with an assortment of toys, touching myself and thinking about him. But, at the same time, he was sleeping with my friend Kila, and I didn't care what she said; I thought there was something between them.

"I should have guessed, I suppose." she sighed with a wink.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because he called me at two in the morning and we ended up having phone sex."

I was always a little jealous of Kila-- not just because of her relationship with Edward, but also because she was so comfortable talking about sex. She would tell you anything, but it never seemed like attention seeking. It was just who she was. She wasn't embarrassed by her body or anything she did with it. 

"Phone Sex?" I asked incredulously.

"Oh yeah, I love it. Ever done it?"

"No. I don't think I could." I thought about the prospect, and considered that maybe I could, with him, but then immediately rethought it. I was far too embarrassed by the type of talk that would be required for phone sex. "Does he like it?"

"Yeah, though he doesn't say too much-- just a 'oh yeah?' or a 'tell me more' -- I do most of the talking."

I couldn't help my curiosity; "what sort of things do you say?" I wondered.

"Oh I don't know, the usual. I describe what I'm doing to myself, how I'm touching myself, what I'm imagining or wishing for. Anything that pops into my head."

"And are you actually doing anything while you're talking?" I was incredulous. I just couldn't believe it.

"Yeah, of course. Sometimes I take pictures with my phone and send them to him. I think he really likes the ones with the toys."

"Really?"

"I have this one dildo that an ex-boyfriend gave me-- don't look at me like that, I've had boyfriends-- any way, he had it molded to his own cock! Can you imagine? I don't remember him ever being that big, but I suppose he might've been. Most guys love to watch me use it, most of my girlfriends have liked it too."

Listening to her talk this way was making me think that maybe I was missing out on a lot of fun that I could be having, so I asked, "Kila, do you like it? I mean, I've never owned one, just a couple of vibrators. They always seemed sort of creepy."

"Seriously? Oh Sam, you are so naïve! It is so cute. I think that a good dildo is an absolute necessity. It feels so good to be filled up like that! Then if you want to go to town with the vibrator, you can. I even have a strap on I use sometimes on my girlfriends."

I know by this time, my face was flushed. I couldn't help it. Her talk was turning me on, and I felt that familiar pulling in my crotch, along with a certain amount of dampness. Kila could see it too, and I saw the look in her eyes change. Her eyes, normally gray, got darker; stormy. "You should try it sometime." She said, in a low voice. "I'd love to show it to you." she pulled her chair in closer to the table, and I felt something rubbing the inside of my thigh. 

I didn't want to draw any attention to us, so I didn't move the tablecloth to look, but I knew her stockinged foot was the culprit. Her foot moved closer to my crotch, and I knew I was turning bright red, both from embarrassment and from the heat that was rising up through my body. As her foot touched me at the junction of my legs, I jumped, both out of shock and out of the immense need I was suddenly feeling. 

She picked up her glass, and ran her tongue along the rim, without ever losing eye contact with me. I was suddenly scared and confused. I didn't know what I was feeling, or why I was so turned on. My thoughts were spinning in my head, and as she said to me, baldly, "I really want to eat your pussy, Sam. Now" I was lost.

"Really?" I asked, my voice breaking like a pubescent boy's.

"Yeah. What do you think?" I merely nodded, afraid I might say no if I spoke.

We made a quick exit from our regular lunch place, and she hailed a cab. In the backseat, she placed her hand on my leg in an innocent sort of way, but began whispering things to me that made me dizzy with want. At her building she paid the driver, and rushed me up the stairs into her apartment. 

I had been there before, but this time it felt different. There was so much tension in my body, and I wanted something I couldn't name. She took my hand and led my to her bedroom, a stately, manly sort of affair with browns and blues. She stood me in front of her, and said "you look terrified."

"I am." I said honestly, "but, oh God, I want this, well something. Kila, I've never done this before."

"Don't worry, I'll teach you everything you need to know." 

She pulled off her sweatshirt to reveal a black, lace bra with high, firm petite breasts underneath, and a stomach as flat as an iron. She walked across the room, and closed the blinds, and as she turned to head back to me, I noticed her walk. I noticed, for the first time how she swayed her hips, with each step promising the pleasures of her woman-ness. 

I know I was shaking; I was hot, and wet, and completely terrified. But she came to me, put her hand on the back of my neck and kissed me. As her tongue tentatively touched my lips, she whispered "open your mouth for me, Sam." But this wasn't the Kila I knew. This one was demanding, aggressive, and she was going to take from me whatever I had to give. I yielded to her, and opened my mouth. Her tongue and mouth assaulted mine, and I felt a spark of fire shoot through me when her tongue touched mine. "That's right," she encouraged.

She undressed me with agile fingers, and when I stepped out of my pants, standing bare and vulnerable before her, she blew through her lips saying, "wow Sam, you are incredible." She pulled off her clothes with equal alacrity, and revealed before me was a stunningly beautiful body, with no hair anywhere. "I wax it," she said, and pulled me to her. 

She pushed me to the bed, and began to touch me, on my arms, my shoulders, my legs, my stomach, but no where that would bring me any relief to the painful burning I was now feeling. I started to writhe under her, and reached for her breasts. "No," she said, "you are going to lay there, like a good little girl, while I teach you how to come. I'm going to make you scream." I had rather thought she had forgotten our conversation about my shortcomings in the orgasm department, and instantly felt a different kind of pressure-- the pressure to perform. I started worrying and became more nervous than I had been. "Stop worrying. We'll figure it out." she told me, and bent her head to my nipple. As she suckled it, I gazed at her, surprised by the erotic newness of seeing a naked woman doing this to me. I noted her earrings, six in one ear, four in the other, I saw her lipstick left behind on my breast, I smelled the richness of her scent, something I had never smelled before other than on myself. 

My body responded to her, and I felt a little spurt of warmth between my thighs. Her hand moved lower, until she was almost touching me on my lower lips, and I moaned with need. "slow down Sam, we're going to have fun this afternoon, what's the rush?"

She continued to stroke my thighs and lower stomach, teasing me, torturing me with her light touch. Finally, when I thought I couldn't take another second of her glorious torment, she touched me. She pressed firmly on my clit, and I gasped at the jolts of pleasure that shot through me. She moved her fingers lower, and touched my wetness. "Wow, you are really ready for me aren't you?"

I nodded, too embarrassed to speak, but she didn't mind, she was busy lowering her head between my thighs. As she was about to touch her tongue to my swollen, throbbing gap, her cell phone started to ring. I knew the ring tone, and so did she. 

"He's probably wondering why I didn't come back to the office. Wait right there honey, I'm not done with you yet."

She leaned over to the floor, digging her phone from the pocket of her discarded pants, and flipped it open impatiently. "What?" She asked. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could make out the russet timber of his voice. I was about ready to bolt from the room as the realization of what I was doing began to sink in. " Don't even think about getting up," she ordered me. And I realized that she had been talking, and I hadn't heard a word she had said. "I have some company Eddie, maybe I can call you back?... Of the female type if you must know... yeah, it is someone you know," I started shaking my head frantically at her, "but you'll have to guess." She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye, and a smile that spelled trouble, but was still one of the hottest things I had ever seen. 

"Hang on a second Eddie," she put the phone on her thigh to muffle the microphone, and said to me in a low voice "How about a phone sex demonstration?" and before I could answer, she was digging out her blue tooth and putting it on, switching her phone over to it, and throwing the phone on the floor. "Why don't you close your office door Eddie, and lock it," she told him, "I'm going to give you a play by play. I was immediately horrified, but stimulated. Sharing something so private was embarrassing, but there was something so erotic and risqué about it, that I began to feel some of my excitement begin to build again in spite of my fear. 

"Nope, it isn't her," She said to him, "I'll describe her, and see if that helps." Her eyes burned me with a gaze that made promises of things I didn't even know existed, she touched my stomach "great tits, flat stomach, nicely trimmed bush. Just enough hair to hide the prize," she told him. She took one of my legs, and pulled it away from the other one, so she was looking directly into my most intimate area. I blushed, and tried to pull it back, but she held it in place. No one had ever looked at me like that before. "She's shy, too." 

And then, she started to talk and act in simultaneous concert. "I'm looking at her mound right now, I can smell her." she breathed in deeply through her nose. "God, she smells good. Her pussy is pink and wet and shiny for me. I think I want to taste her." She bent her head over me, touching her tongue to my labia, and I inhaled sharply; she laughed huskily. "God she tastes like manna, I love the way she tastes. I'm going to lick her some more." I wondered, in an absent way, if he could hear her the soft, wet sounds her tongue made against me, but mostly I just fell deeper into the whirling abyss of pleasure that she was making me feel. 

She sat back up, switching her fingers for her tongue. "I'm touching her slick cunt with my finger, and it is slipping inside her so easily. She is so ready for me. Hey Eddie," she said, "why don't you pull out your cock for me, I like the idea of you stroking yourself while I fuck her." If I was being honest, I liked the idea too. I could picture him, on the other end of the phone, with his cock in his hand, getting off, hearing Kila describe, so candidly, what she was doing to me. 

"Good boy," she said, "now we can continue." She started to move her finger in and out of my hole, "I'm fucking her with my fingers right now, and my whole hand is drenched. She wants to come, I can tell, but I'm not going to let her yet. I'm going to work on her clit first, but slowly, lightly. I want her screaming when I'm done with her." Her body fulfilled the promise of her words, and she began to gently rub my clit in a circle, lightly, slowly; frustrating me, and I tried to move against her hand, "tsk, tsk, I told you to hold still," she reprimanded me. She rose up on her knees, and turned around so her hips were over my face. "I'm turning around so she can lick me," and true to her words, she lowered herself to my mouth saying "now lick me, slowly... ooh that's good." I licked her just the way she asked, and tasted her earthy, clean taste. I was so uncertain, unsure, but she talked me through it. "Now, push your tongue into me.. That's it." 

I started to get the hang of it, and began to experiment a little with the way I was using my tongue on her, I held it strong and tense and forced it into her waiting, anxious hole; I softened it to lick her lips. I thought hard about what I would want her to do to me, and I did it. 

She groaned loudly, "She's sucking on my clit... It is so good. Her mouth is hot on me, and, oh God, she's using her teeth. That's it, that's it.. Oh Jesus Eddie, I love it. I think I'm gonna come." I could feel her body tensing above me, and I reached up with my hand and started to push my fingers into her; searching, seeking out that place inside of her, the private one that would send her over the edge into the void that I was now seeking desperately. I felt her orgasm wash across her as I heard her moan, "I'm coming. I'm coming. Oh God," She panted as she writhed above me, quivering and jerking as it overtook her senses. "Jesus, she's good. Are you hard Eddie? I bet you are." I was betting he was too, and the image of him stuck in my mind as she started to elucidate how she was going to fuck me. I didn't know exactly how she was going to accomplish it, but was willing to wait to find out.

She told him she was getting "her favorite." I didn't know what her favorite was, but seemingly out of no where, like a magician, she had a flesh colored dildo in her hand. It seemed to large to fit in me, and I shook my head, afraid to say anything aloud, afraid he would recognize my voice. I whispered to her "It's too big," and she laughed. 

"She says it'll be too big, do you think I should use it on her anyway? I want to watch it stretch her apart." She touched my entrance with the tip, and it started to stretch me, I groaned out of fear, and pleasure, not sure which was the foremost of my emotions. "Did you hear her groan? She wants it. She is so wet and slick, but tight. Ooh Eddie, she is so tight." I let out a little gasp of shock as she forced it into me. It hurt; I was stretched out wide and feeling like I was going to rip in half, but she was massaging my clit and I began to feel myself expand to accommodate the thickness inside. 

"Does that hurt?" she asked me. I nodded. "Do you want me to take it out?" 

"No." I replied huskily, not certain whether I was asking or telling.

"Do you recognize the voice?" She asked him, and I froze in throbbing, pulsating fear. What would I say, how would I face him again, having him look into me, knowing what I had done here, in her bed-- in the bed she shared with him on occasion. "No? I'm surprised. What do you think I should do to her now? Should I fuck her with it hard and fast, or should I do it slow?... tell me what you want me to do to her." She paused in her ministrations to my clit, listening. "Yeah? Okay, slow and easy. Want me to suck her while I do it?" 

My world began to shatter, but I wasn't able to come yet, "goddamnit," I thought. But she was pushing the dildo into me, and pulling it back gently, and she was sucking on my clit like it was a little cock, her tongue working it in little circles, as I had done to so many men before. She lifted her head from me, and said "okay, harder and faster." It started to plunge into me with a force that was demanding and angry. The idea that he was now giving her the directions, and by proxy, he was the one giving me this painful pleasure, made me crazy. I was moaning and gasping; panting and groaning. 

"She's gonna come for me Eddie, I want you to come with her. Are you gonna do that for me? Stroke it hard now. I wish you were here, and you could see how beautiful her pussy is. It's so wet and swollen. If you were here, I'd sit back and watch you put that huge cock of yours in her, you'd stretch her tight little cunt to splitting." As she painted a picture in our minds of him inside of me, I started to feel a different sort of pressure building, something new and novel. I felt the walls of my pussy begin to contract, and suddenly, I was shuddering, quaking before her. "Now, Eddie. come for me." she demanded of him as I exploded into a thousand little pieces, crying out a wordless oath to a nameless God. 

"I'll be back in twenty minutes." she told him and hung up. "You okay?" she asked me, and I just looked back at her. Not able to speak; not wanting to speak, afraid to lose the sensations that were slowly ebbing. 

"So, now you know." she frowned at me, considering. "Sam, I just wanted to show you, I'm not interested in you, and I don't want you to develop a thing for me. We are really good friends. That's it. Like with Eddie-- not much I wouldn't do for a friend."

I stared at her, dumbfounded. Did she really think I would develop feelings for her? I wasn't a lesbian; hell, I wasn't even bi! "I understand Kila, don't worry." Because, truthfully, I did understand. She could offer me something I hadn't been able to find anywhere else-- the ability to experience pleasure with another human being. 

"Can you lock up when you leave?" she asked me, "I have to get back to work." 

"Yeah, of course." I answered her, and watched her throw her clothes on and race for the door. I lay on her bed for a long time after that, wondering if it had been her, or the idea of Edward that had done it. I decided it was a combination of the two, as well as the risqué nature of the encounter. I also decided that I was going to experience that again, no matter what. It was too good to miss out on anymore.




The Last Chapter



Four days later, I hadn't returned any of Kila's calls. I was embarrassed, and not sure what to say to her. I wondered how different things would be, and how she would look at me. What would she think of me now that I had been so intimately connected to her? Avoiding her calls only worked for so long though, because as I sat at the local vet center shooting footage for my documentary, I heard a familiar voice behind me. 

"I thought you'd dropped off the face of the earth!" I turned to see Kila, hands on her hips, and I started to blush.

"I'm sorry, I got really busy."

"Really busy avoiding me, is more like it." She shook her head at me. "Don't be embarrassed, for God's sake!"

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. I didn't really have any idea what else to say. What do you say under those circumstances? Thank you seemed not only awkward, but inappropriate too.

"Just forget it happened, if you need to. Listen, I got a hold of this great documentary, and Eddie and I were going to watch it tonight. Want to come?" I perked up quickly at the mention of his name, and she noticed "yeah, I thought that might get you interested."

"I'd love to, what time should I come over?" I asked.

"We're going to grab some take out right after we leave the office, and we'll be at his place around six." she answered. "Maybe I can even find a way to leave early!"

"Oh, Shut up!" I said and threw my shoe at her.

She laughed, "I'm not screwing him anymore Sam." I read the message she was sending loud and clear. If I wanted him, he was free. "See you later," she said winking.

When I arrived at Edward's brownstone at six, I quickly realized that something was terribly wrong. Edward opened the door, looking disheveled, and worn. For a moment, I thought that Kila had lied, and I had interrupted them at the wrong time, but I heard Kila sobbing inside. He turned away, leaving the door open, and I stepped inside, noticing the suitcases by the door. Feeling a sense of impending doom, I walked slowly into his living room, and saw Kila, crumpled up in a ball on the sofa, Edward beside her, a half empty bottle of whiskey on the table in front of him. 

Slowly, tentatively, I moved toward them, and sat on the edge of a chair, absently noting the spartan furnishings and the rigidly implemented order of his home. Unable to talk between the gasping sobs, Kila sought my hand, and I took it, my earlier embarrassment forgotten in the wake of what I perceived to be a deep, wrenching horror. 

Edward laid out the story for me, in a detached, emotionless way, and I came to see so much more about them in a moment. A man they had worked with in Iraq, a friend, had killed himself. Unable to deal with the burden of his memories, the constant pain of what he had witnessed, he had put a gun in his mouth, and pulled the trigger. Seeking peace after years of living with the torment of his mind, he could take no more. 

It was at that moment that I realized why Kila was willing to anything for Edward. Constantly afraid she would lose him to the same fate, she was willing to give of her body and soul to keep him here. Having interviewed so many veterans myself, I began to comprehend the enormity of her fear. I knew the signs and symptoms, but had never really made a connection to him. I now recognized the constant motion, the disconnected, affect-less speech, the inability to make an emotional connection to others, for what they were. Edward was struggling, and maybe even drowning in his memories of a war and a world that no one who hadn't seen it would ever understand. 

The three of us sat in a silence broken only by Kila's tapering sobs, and the ice clinking in Edward's glass which he kept refilling. Self medicating, I thought. Another visceral reminder of the situation. 

I can't say how much time passed, but the day light was fading as a horn blew outside. 

"Your cab is here." He said to Kila, as he got up and walked purposefully, if a bit unsteadily to the door. He picked up two of the bags by the door, and walked out with them.

She wiped her face, and blew her nose. "I'm catching a plane to France for the funeral. We couldn't get on the same flight." She turned to me, and grasped me by the arms, clutching at me. "Watch him, please. I don't know what he is thinking."

"I will," I assured her.

"Kila, come on, you have to go." Edward called from the doorway. She released my arms and nodded, walking to the door. I followed a few paces behind, and watched him take her gently by the arm and lead her to the waiting taxi. As she threw her arms around him, I could see the terror and pain in her face. "Please!" She called to me. I simply nodded in reply, and watched him tuck her into the backseat, closing the door after her. He stood watching as the cab drove away, and raised his hand in a shortened, abrupt wave, and turned toward the house, hands in his pockets, head hanging. He walked past me into the house, and headed straight back to the couch, and his half empty glass. I wasn't sure he even knew I was still there, but I closed the door, and followed.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked me. Though he was adept at hiding it, his speech was slurred and I had to wonder how much of the bottle he had drunk that afternoon. 

"Sure, thanks." I didn't know what to say to him, but he got up, and got me a glass and some ice, and poured me a full glass. I didn't want to say the wrong thing, so I kept my mouth shut, thinking that for him, it must be normal to drink that much. I sat down on the couch next to him, and we sipped our whiskey in silence, both lost in our own thoughts. 

Sometime later, he threw back the contents of his glass, and slammed it down on the table, turning to me. "She wonders when it's going to be me." he said.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, not sure what he was referring to.

"She wonders when she is going to get the call that I've blown my fucking brains out." He clarified.

"oh." I replied weakly, wondering what the appropriate response to that statement would be. "Should she worry?" I asked.

"Sometimes." he said. He stared into nothing for a long moment. "He was my friend. We lived through a lot together." He reached out, and touched the string on my sweatshirt, toying with it absently. "What is the mortality rate on guys like us? You must know."

"I don't know," I replied, not certain I wanted to tell him, not sure I wanted him to know.

"Sure you do. It was in your book." He said with a taunting, knowing edge to his voice. I didn't answer. I didn't know where he was going, and I didn't want to lead his mind in the wrong direction. "I wake up at night, drenched in sweat, and shaking. That's when I sleep at all." He looked at me then, and I knew two things in an instant: he considered escaping a lot more often than Kila even dreamed, and I was going to do whatever it took to take that empty look out of his eyes.

"It was you that day wasn't it?" he asked, smiling wryly.

"What? What day?" I stammered, confused by the turn of topic. 

"The other afternoon, with Kila." he said. I blushed, horrified to my toes. He grinned at me, "I thought so, but she said no. Did you like it?" His voice was hard; angry; and I began to be a little nervous. 

I considered quickly, and decided that I no longer cared what I had promised Kila, nor what I had thought only moments ago. The edge in his voice, the slurring, and the rage I could see simmering under the surface of his eyes, told me to run, and I tried. I rose from the couch, picking up my purse, stammering "I have to go."

He reached out, and grabbed my wrist, and pulled me back down. His grip was strong, and he was twisting my hand painfully. "Edward, you're hurting me," I told him, sensing disaster before me. 

He held on for a moment longer, then released me as quickly as he had grabbed me, putting his head in his hands. I was frozen in place, not certain what was happening. The moment of fear was gone, but I was still afraid; only now, it was for him, not for myself. 

"Edward," I said, hesitantly, and reached my hand to his shoulder. He jerked away as if my touch had burned him.

"You should go, Sam" he said gruffly, but uncertainly. I didn't think he wanted me to, and watching him now, I didn't think it was a great idea. "I'm sorry, you should go before I do something you'll regret."

"I'm not afraid of you, Edward," I said, proud of myself for not revealing the fear I was actually feeling. 

"Maybe you should be." He retorted, but with much less anger, and much more regret than the words implied. "He was with me the day they detonated a car bomb in the souk a block from our building. The things we saw that day... You don't ever lose those images. They are there no matter what you do to try to get rid of them." He shook his head as though he was trying to do just that, force them from his mind. "You know, you learn, very quickly to never trust anyone, but I trusted him." 

He rose quickly, startling me, and walked to the window. He stood there, framed by the light from the streetlights in the newly emerging lights of a city settling in for night. "It's strange," he said with a bitter laugh, "I know I should be feeling something, but I just don't. I don't feel anything."

I walked to him, a little unsteady on my feet, and stood next to him, gazing out into the deepening evening. The street was alive and bustling, but time seemed to have stopped on our side of the window. He turned his head, and looked at me, and I met his gaze, feeling useless to help him. His eyes bored into mine, and I caught a glimpse of the tortured soul that resided within him. I watched as his face hardened into a apathetic mask of emotionless nonchalance, and then, almost as quickly, changed into a look I was more familiar with. I knew in an instant, viscerally, that he was going to kiss me; I also knew, just as quickly, that I was going to let him do that and more if he wanted. 

He raised his hand toward my face, and paused midway, "You should really go, Sam. I'm drunk, and I don't really trust myself right now."

I looked at the hand that hovered a foot from my body, and said "but I trust you." He closed his eyes for a moment, groaning. His hand clenched into a fist, then relaxed and reached for me, closing around the back of my neck. He lowered his head to mine, waiting for a fraction of a second, allowing me the opportunity to change my mind; I didn't, and his mouth closed over mine in crushing, desperate need. His tongue sought mine urgently, and though I could feel him bruising my lips, I yielded, falling limply into his arms. There was a frantic anxiety with which he handled me, as if I were not real, and might disappear. 

I leaned into him, my arms encircling his neck, as I pulled him close. I could smell him; whiskey and something much more pungent and stimulating to my senses: the smell of fear and lust mingling into something unavoidable and powerful. He pulled my sweatshirt over my head, and ran his hands up my sides, over my breasts. My nipples hardened at the demanding touch of his hands through my bra. I began to unbutton his shirt with fumbling, clumsy fingers, as his hands roughly caressed every inch of my upper body. He let go of me long enough to drop his shirt to the floor, and then pulled me against him. I could feel his hardness against my abdomen, and felt my own answering arousal building way down deep in my abdomen. 

"Not like this," he said gruffly, and taking my hand, pulled me behind him, up the stairs, down the hall, and into his bedroom. He sat down on the bed, pulling me on top of him. I felt my desire rising in response to his feverish, rough motions. I felt his hands on my stomach, and felt him unbuttoning the buttons on my jeans. His mouth ravaged mine as he pushed his hips upward against the junction of my legs. 

Suddenly, he flung me onto my back, manhandling me in a stirring, appealing, needing way, and pulled at my jeans. I reached down to help him pull them off, and then, suddenly, I lay before him, bare to my thong and bra. His chest heaving, and his eyes were scorching me. I realized that my chest was heaving too, as he lowered one side of my bra to expose a tight, hard nipple. His mouth closed over it, and I moaned, shuddering at the unexpected pleasure his hot, mouth brought to my breast. His hand was squeezing my other breast, a little too hard; I gasped at the pain, and the complete ambivalence I felt. It hurt, but I loved it. 

His right hand tangled in my hair, and pulled so that my head tipped back, as he began to plunder my mouth again. Like lightening, his touch electrified me almost to the point of burning me. With one hand in my hair, he lowered the other to the private v of my legs, and he touched me. I was swollen and throbbing; moaning with my need of his touch. His fingers began to expertly manipulate the small nub of exquisite pleasure that lay between us, and I reached for the bulge in his pants. I stroked his erection through his pants with my hand as he worked me over, his fingers exploring my opening, now dripping with the proof of my desire. Reaching my other hand down, I managed to unbutton and unzip the khakis he wore, and he rolled to the side to help me get them off. I watched as his swollen member emerged from hiding, and my desire flared into a blazing inferno. I pushed him back, and put my hand around his thick, long shaft. His eyes, half-lidded in lust, seemed to beg me for something; not knowing what it was consciously, my body responded, and I lowered my mouth to take him in. I began to suck, tickling the underside of his sensitive head with my tongue, and he groaned my name insistently grasping the back of my head and beginning to guide me toward his pleasure. 

I could feel my own pleasure insisting on making itself known with a warm spurt between my legs. Nibbling gently on the tender, nerve filled spot beneath his tip, I tasted the proof of his desire, and the preface to his orgasm. "Oh, Christ," he whispered, pulling me up toward his face, and away from the object of my hunger. Laying fully pressed against him, I felt his erection pushing against my hard clit through my panties, and his tongue delving into my mouth. Rolling over with me, he reached down and pushed my thong out of the way, and threw my leg over his shoulder. Looking into my eyes, he roughly said, "God I'm sorry, Sam," as he drove himself fully into me. 

I screamed at the sudden intrusion, his member was too big, and I could feel myself tearing in two. He began to move within me, and the pain, so strong a moment before, began to shift, began to alter as my responded to his desperate need, accommodating the fullness of him; opening to him. He drove into me hard and violently, and I looked through his eyes into his very core. Inside of him, I saw his pain, his destitution, the abject agony he was living with, and I know I let him look into my soul as well. 

My gap was full with him, and slick; his vehement plowing of my field pulling my pleasure from me. "Come with me Sam," he commanded of me hoarsely, "I need you." His face contorted in the struggle to wait for me, and he squeezed my arms in his valiant effort. My body spiraled out of my control, and I felt the shuddering spasms of my orgasm wash over me, swallowing me; as his own orgasm jerked through him. Hot and potent, I felt him shooting into me, the feeling of his pleasure and relief a tangible, wet sensation against my womb.

As he collapsed against my still shuddering frame, I marveled at how easily I had come for him. My mind floated; drifted away in the utter bliss that follows orgasm. His head, buried in my tangled hair, and his comfortable weight atop me were warm reminders of my corporeality. I slowly pulled my mind back and realized, with gut-wrenching shock, that he was shaking. I turned my head to look at his face, and saw, to my horror, that he was crying. In fact, as I focused my thoughts on the here and now, I recognized that, what I had initially perceived to be the aftershocks of his powerful orgasm, was actually the shuddering of his body with the force of his sobs. 

I didn't respond with words, I merely held him as tightly as I could against the riptide of pain that threatened to wrench him away from me and drown him. We lay, wrapped in each other's arms, afraid that the world would take us, for a long time, and after what felt like eternity, he slept. My own racing mind began to quiet, as I too drifted off with the soft, flaccid feeling of him still inside of me. 

Sometime later, foggy with sleep, I came awake as he rolled off of me. He leaned forward on the bed, and gently began to pull off my panties. He said not a word, but slowly, purposefully, began to make up for the suddenness with which he had first taken me. His unshaven cheeks, softly scratched my stomach as he moved his head down my body, taking the ring in my belly button between his teeth and pulling easily on it. His expert fingers began to explore my body, and I felt my body beginning to prepare for him again. This time, I was ready when he entered me, and embraced his length and girth with a squeeze of the private muscles within me. He was slow and gentle with me, taking his time, allowing me to enjoy the feeling of him, yet still demanding my surrender. He was conquering me with his eloquent, tender passion, and I submitted; willingly to the pleasures he promised with his body. His hands spoke words of tenderness as I was enfolded within his spell. Methodically, he drew from me a sweet, delicate orgasm, and then a second, before allowing himself his own release. 

We slept the exhausted, dreamless sleep of the emotionally drained, and as the sun came up, he turned me away from him and wrapped his arms around me. 

Edward, left that morning to catch his flight, with a different look in his eyes. He was easier in himself, and less guarded. We didn't say much to each other; it didn't seem like their was anything to say, our bodies had spoken all the necessary words to each other the previous night. But as I walked him to his waiting cab to send him to the airport, he kissed me, and held me tight against him, and whispered pleadingly, "be here when I get back."

He was gone for three days, and I began to doubt the tenacity of his request to me. As I sat alone in my apartment, I considered everything that had transpired, and how our knowledge of each other had exploded in the span of less than twelve hours. I knew him intimately, and worried about how he would respond to the vulnerability it spawned in him. Suddenly, I became convinced that I would never see him again, that he would avoid me, and refuse to ever let me in again. Terrified, I began to pace, and when the buzzer rang, announcing someone's unwanted presence at my door, I jumped. I eventually answered the insistent buzzing to find a delivery man waiting impatiently for me. He handed me a clipboard to sign, and thrust a vase into my hands, rushing off to his next delivery. The flowers were delicate, and fragrant. Not overwhelming in size or quantity, and I quizzically pulled the card out and ripped it open as I walked back up the stairs. 

"I'll be home tomorrow, E," it read. And I felt tears of relief slip down my cheeks.

A year later, we are still together, and our passion is still a burning visceral thing binding us together. Though he has his days of silence, his hours of rage, and his weeks of emptiness, we persevere. And while I worry about him with a desperation bordering on obsession, I watch him struggle through each day and allow him to take what comfort he can find in my body, as I take my pleasure in his. Our love stands as the life vest in the vast deep ocean of memory and trauma that he experiences with so many others that saw and suffered and survived the evil and hate of war.



The Last Chapter Revisited



ONE

Randi Boehmon was casually paging through a Vanity Fair when she heard the receptionist call her name.

"Mrs. Boehmon . . . he's ready for you now."

Randi smiled up at the young girl behind the desk and got to her feet, smoothing her skirt over her slender, sexy legs and slinging her purse over her shoulder. In her late forties, Randi had the body of a woman half her age. A petite lady with a trim waist over the top of a tight ass, she was not busty but her breasts were still perky and firm. Her trademark long, blonde highlighted hair had been recently dyed platinum and been cut in a short bob just above her shoulders, her long bangs sweeping gently across her forehead, erotically framing her beautiful face, with its high cheekbones and gorgeous blue eyes, in a way that made her look more like a west coast fashion model than a midwestern soccer mom with two children. Her lips glistened in a soft, cinnamon shade, perfectly complimented by a hint of eye shadow and long, dark lashes.

She walked through the big wooden door and into the expensively decorated and spacious office. Derek Williamson, her marriage counselor, rose from behind the desk with a broad smile, his sexy green eyes alight as she took a seat on the big leather couch. Derek was barely out of his twenties with long, brown wavy hair, and a square jaw with a cute dimple in his chin. An avid bicyclist, his lean frame was corded with muscle, his thick thigh muscles pushing tightly against the material of his khaki pants.

As Randi began to unbutton her white, silk blouse, Derek picked up the phone.

"Gina . . . Mrs. Boehmon will be my last appointment today. I'll lock up. See you in the morning."

Randi smiled seductively as she reached behind her back to unsnap her bra, peeling it off her arms, before reaching for the zipper on the side of her very short skirt. As Derek came around his desk, he untucked his shirt and began to remove his cuff links.

Now naked, except for her white lace thong and her peep-toe slingbacks with the 4 inch heel, Randi's eyes ran quickly up and down the lean, muscled body of her marriage counselor as he stepped out of his pants, his boxers unable to contain his fat, straining cock. He moved closer and gently tipped her chin up with his index finger as he lowered his face towards hers. As his tongue pushed past her wetly shining lips, Randi was again struck by the strange and erotic path that had brought her to this point in her life.

TWO

After he had come home unexpectedly and walked in on his wife fucking Curtis Adams, a former teamate of their son, Bill Boehmon was more hurt than angry. He wisely resisted a strong urge to physically confront the young man, given the fact that he was giving up a couple of inches and probably thirty pounds of muscle to the former all-state running back. Instead, he walked back downstairs and poured himself a stiff drink. He didn't even look up when Curtis quietly left the house.

Randi had grabbed her short, silky, jade green robe off the floor as Curtis quickly gathered his things. After he left, she walked slowly downstairs to find her husband sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand, staring at the floor. She sat quietly next to him for several minutes, but when she put a hand on his shoulder, she felt him pull away in disgust.

The next few weeks were terribly quiet in the Boehmon household. Fortunately, their son was away at college and their daughter, being a senior, was quite busy in a variety of high school activities. When Bill finally broached the subject of seeing a marriage counselor, Randi quickly agreed, still kicking herself for being as careless as she had been. Her desire for young cock had become overwhelming, causing her to become incredibly reckless. She even tried to convince herself that she would benefit from the counseling her husband was suggesting.

Bill got a referral for a counselor through their church and at their first meeting, Derek asked what had brought them to his office. As her husband described, in lurid detail, his discovery of his wife's adultery, Randi noticed that Derek's eyes darted quickly over to hers with an interest that seemed more than professional.

During their second meeting, after her husband had discussed showing Randi an amatuer porn video he had purchased from a website featuring a beautiful, busty auburn haired MILF who had a weakness for sexy shoes and young, muscular black men, Randi noticed that Derek seemed to find this bit of information very important. At the conclusion of their session, Derek informed them that he felt it would be better, at least for the time being, that they start individual rather than couple's counseling.

When Bill came home from his first individual session, Randi noted that he seemed troubled but his attitude towards her was much improved. Thinking that this was promising, she looked forward to her meeting the following evening.

Derek offered her a drink from the small wet bar in his office and joined her in the large, comfortable sitting area in front of his desk. As they talked, Randi quickly recognized the look she saw on the younger man's face. She had seen this same look on a countless number of young men she had picked up these last several years of her marriage. The intense look they had, hoping that she would show sign of interest, which was always followed by an eagerness to please her in bed. Finally ending with a hopeful look that they would be invited back to taste her considerable charms. The fact she was seeing this in the face of someone who had agreed to help her and her husband work through their troubles was clearly disconcerting, but, Randi reluctantly admitted to herself, also very exciting.

Derek told her that he ripped into Bill pretty good about his bringing home the adult video they had discussed previously. He blamed her husband for planting the seed which, Derek felt, caused Randi to act out a fantasy that she believed her husband wanted. Although this was clearly not the case, Randi had fucked plenty of black guys before ever seeing the video, she was clever enough to wait and see how this all played out.

Over the next month or so, Bill slowly began to warm up to her. Amazingly, under Derek's guidance, her husband had somehow reached the conclusion that he was mostly at fault for Randi's indiscretions and he redoubled his efforts to repair their fractured relationship.

On the other hand, Randi was not at all suprised to find herself, in very short order, bent over Derek's desk while he drove his long, thick cock deep into her pussy, taking their counseling sessions to a new, and decisively dirty, level.

THREE

As they kissed, Randi slid her hand up under Derek's boxers to lightly tickle his ball sack with her long, blood red fingernails. When Derk reached down to cup one of her pert breast, Randi grabbed his boxers and pulled them quickly to the floor. As she stroked his long, hard cock, Derek was thrilled by the sensation of her wedding bands as they slowly slid up and down his manhood.

He put one foot on the cushion next to Randi, and grabbing his cock at its base, guided it towards her hungry mouth. With one hand resting gently on a muscular thigh, the other grasping a rock hard butt cheek, Randi dropped her jaw as he slid his fat cock past her wetly shining lips, deep into the warmth of her mouth.

Randi began fucking his cock with her face, her head bobbing out a slow, steady rhythm, a low moan building in her chest.

"MMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!!" she groaned as she blew him, one of her hands now between her legs rubbing her swollen clit.

Derek put one hand on the back of Randi's very blonde head, and watched intently as his cock slid into her lovely mouth. Early on in their "counseling", he had discovered that the sexy soccer mom was an incredible cocksucker and he didn't want to blow his load too quickly.

Feeling his nuts begin to tighten, Derek pulled his cock away from a clearly disappointed Randi and he had to hold it away from her as she reached for it with her mouth open hungrily. He helped her to her feet and she quickly pulled her tiny thong over her tight ass and down her slender legs, kicking it away with a pretty, high-heeled foot.

Randi laid back down on the couch and opened her legs, reaching down to spread her swollen pussy lips with two fingers as Derek quickly knelt before her. The fat head of his cock slid easily into her soaking wet pussy and as he leaned down over her and began to fuck her with long, deep strokes he whispered to her:

"We had quite a breakthrough last time, Mrs. Boehmon. I think we need to pick up where we left off!"

Randi reached over his shoulders, pulling his face towards hers as she rolled her hips hard against him.

"MMhhhhmmmmm!!" Randi purred seductively, a thin satisfied smile on her gorgeous face. 

"Whatever you say, Doctor!!" she agreed enthusiastically, before his tongue slid deliciously over hers, her breasts pressed against his hard, smooth chest.

FOUR

Randi climbed off the treadmill and ran a towel along the back of her neck. She had just completed her usual four mile run and was going to grab a bottle of water before she headed home. She and her husband had a "date" planned for later that evening as part of their ongoing marriage counseling.

The health club was packed and Randi noted with satisfaction that her flat, toned tummy and tight ass, proudly displayed by a tiny bra top and skimpy running shorts, was the equal of any woman there, regardless of age. 

She noticed that a young man she had caught staring at her earlier was walking slowly across the work-out area. He looked to be in his early twenties with a tightly muscled athletic frame. She guessed that he was about 6'2", a good 230 pounds and was wearing a black sleeveless Under Armor shirt that showed off his big, broad shoulders and thick arms. He had on a pair of baggy, red basketball shorts, his blonde hair cut short, and she could see his blue eyes from across the club. He smiled at her, causing Randi to blush as she caught herself smiling quickly back, the familiar tingle beginning to build between her legs.

She was not at all suprised when he followed her out to her black BMW X-5, but when he slid into the passenger seat, she looked at him with an amused grin on her face.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her eyes alight, clearly enjoying his act.

"Where you headed?" he responded with a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm going home." she emphasized.

"Sounds good to me!" the young man replied, looking calmly out the front of the SUV.

Randi stared at the side of his face, and waited a few seconds before cautioning him.

"My husband might be home soon."

He turned his head slowly and locked his deep, baby blues onto hers. 

"I'll take my chances." he smiled before returning to staring out the windshield.

Randi sighed loudly and shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head as she turned the ignition and started home. At a red light, she dug a pack of Virginia Slims Menthol 120s from her bag and flipped the top, removing one of the cigarettes. She cracked her window, cupping a tiny gold lighter in her hands as she drew deeply, exhaling a thin stream out of the car as the light turned green.

Glancing at the long, white cigarette the tiny MILF was holding in outstretched fingers above the steering wheel, the young man noted:

"Doesn't that sort of defeat the purpose of all the running you do?"

Randi laughed and took a long, deep, drag, nodding in agreement as she exhaled.

"Probably . . . but I always have one after a work-out. You don't mind do you?"

"Hey . . . It's your body." he replied before lowering his voice in a more intimate tone. "I gotta admit . . . it looks rockin' hot!"

Randi smiled at the compliment and pressed the acclerator, eager to get this young stud into her bed.

FIVE

He followed her upstairs and into the large master suite Randi shared with her husband. Once inside, he closed the double doors and pulled his shirt over his head revealing his thickly muscled, smooth chest and six-pack abs. Randi felt her pulse begin to pound as his hands settled gently on her hips. Her hands slid up his corded arms to his muscular shoulders as he lowered his lips towards hers, her mouth open expectantly.

She threw her arms around his bull neck as he crushed her petite form against his hard body. They kissed passionately, and she could feel his hard cock press through the thin material of his baggy shorts as their mouths opened and closed in a lust filled dance.

Randi reached down into his shorts to fondle his straining cock. He was incredibly large and it was clear to her that he had recently shaved his balls.

She pulled away from his lips, panting with lust, her hands resting gently on the thick pads of muscle on his deep chest, a seductive smile on her beautiful face. He reached for her top and peeled it over her head as Randi raised her arms.

She tilted her head back and leaned back into his young, hard body as he kissed her again, his lips brushing the side of her neck, causing her to shiver with excitement. Randi began slowly working his shorts off his waist, as her young lover slid his hand down her flat tummy and inside her running shorts, not suprised to find her cleanly shaven slit soaking wet with her juices.

SIX

Randi was lying naked on her stomach cross-wise on the bed as she lustily sucked the young man's cock. She alternated taking him into her mouth and sliding her practiced lips sideways along the length of his hard shaft as her tongue worked the sensitive underside of his crown. Her head bobbed in a steady rhythm as she strained to take as much of his cock into her mouth as she could.

"MMMMMMmmmmmmmfffffff!!!!!!" she moaned loudly as she blew him, savoring his taste, loving the feeling of his young,hard meat in her mouth.

Randi got up on all fours and continued to fuck his cock with her face, driving her head straight down, his long shaft glistening with her saliva, her eyes closed in concentration, her cheeks hollowed. The young man held her very blonde head in his strong hands as it bobbed up and down, faster and faster.

She pulled her lips from his plum-sized head with a loud pop, her tongue swirling its tip. Randi got to her knees and threw her arms around the boy's broad shoulders, pulling him to her hungry lips.

The young man sat on the edge of the bed and Randi moved eagerly to kneel on the floor between his muscular thighs, as he laid back across the mattress.

Stroking him with one hand, the large diamonds in her wedding band sparkling as they slid up and down his thick shaft, Randi sucked his smooth ball sack into the warm, wetness of her mouth, her tongue dragging tantalizingly over each heavy nut.

He groaned as the sexy MILF sucked his balls, squirming when she used the very tip of her tongue to tickle the area directly under his sack.

Leaning forward, Randi slowly lifted his long, thick member until it pointed straight up towards the ceiling, lowering her lips over its bulbous head. She stroked him with both her hands as she slobbered over his cock, gagging slightly when she took him down her throat.

The young man sat up, his hands reaching for Randi's chin and he tilted her head back, crushing his lips to hers. His hands slid up to cradle the sides of her face, their tongues dancing sensuously as she continued to kneel between his legs, stroking his fat cock.

Randi loved kissing, in many ways she found it more intimate than fucking, and she was more than a little disappointed when the young man pulled away from her lips and helped her to her feet. 

He laid length-wise on the king-sized bed and directed Randi to straddle his face. Leaning forward on her hands, she lifted his thick cock to her lips as she felt his tongue slowly lick the length of her pussy slit, his big hands spreading her tight ass cheeks as he ate her.

Randi felt her lithe body shudder with lust as each stroke of his tongue caused sparks of pleasure to shoot through her pussy. He used the tip of his tongue to swirl around the side of her swollen clit, before sucking it into his pursed lips. Randi pulled her mouth from his straining cock and moaned, her back arched, as she pumped his hard shaft with her tiny hand.

"OOOOooohhhh!! . . . Shit!! . . . Baby, that feels so . . . so . . . good!!!! AAaahh!!! . . . FUCK!!!!!" she managed to sputter before dropping her jaw, her head bobbing rapidly, her mouth packed full of his sweet cock-meat.

Randi was licking the length of his cock when she felt him start to move under her. She watched as the young man took a seat in the big leather chair that her husband read in every night, sliding slightly forward.

Randi smiled lewdly, recognizing what he was after and move quickly to wiggle onto his lap, her knees on either side of his hips as she braced herself on the back of the chair.

Reaching back behind her cute, little ass, Randi grabbed the base of his thick cock and lifted her butt until she could guide the fat head of his dick to her swollen pussy lips.

Slowly, very slowly, she lowered herself onto his cock, savoring every inch as he stretched and filled her pussy. She began to slowly ride him as he reached up to squeeze her tiny breasts, sucking a stiff nipple into his mouth.

"AAAAAAAhhhh . . . Baby!!! Your cock is so fucking big!!!! . . . I love it!!!! Fuck my pussy, Baby!!! . . . . Fuck me!!!!!"

After several minutes of slow, steady pounding, her engorged clit rubbing against the young man's hard body, Randi shifted her weight forward onto her knees, raising her ass into the air.

In this position, Randi was able to bounce her ass down onto his young pole so rapidly that the boy laughed out loud, clearly impressed with her prowess.

"Jesus . . .!! Fuck, that feels great!!! You're fucking incredible!!!!" he gasped.

Smiling down at her young stud, breathing heavily, she panted "I've had alot of practice, Lover!!" before returning her concentration to the fucking she was giving him, her ass bouncing rapidly onto his cock.

She took him completely into her soaking wet tunnel and stopped, wriggling briefly on his lap, loving the feeling of his cock stretching her married pussy to the limits.

She tilted his face up with her hands and lowered her hungry lips to his, her tongue pushing hotly into his mouth. As they kissed, the young man squeezed her ass cheeks as she squirmed, her steaming pussy impaled on his thick, hard cock.

He slid his hands down under her slender thighs and stood up, easily lifting the petite MILF, her arms tight around his neck, still buried to the hilt in her warm, wet tunnel. Randi giggled and continued to plant hot kisses on the young man's face as she felt herself being lowered onto the bed.

Randi shifted beneath him, trying to get in a more comfortable position for the pounding she knew was coming, her hands lying gently on the sides of his hips as the young man pushed himself up on outstretched arms.

He started fucking the sexy cougar with long, deep strokes, pulling her over-heated clit into her pussy with each downward thrust. Randi rolled her hips against him, moaning out loud as his thick cock pierced her faithless pussy, her juices flowing in a stream down between her ass cheeks.

"OOOOOOOhhhhhh!!!! . . . . AAAAHHHH Jesus!! Baby . . . You feel so good!!! God I love your cock!!!! . . . Give it to me, Baby!!! Give it to me!!!!! Fuck my pussy!!! . . . SHIIITTT!!!!"

The young man's hard body smacked wetly against the sexy soccer mom, her breasts bouncing lewdly with each strong thrust, her fingers gripping the thick muscles behind his arms. Randi began to feel her orgasm blossom between her legs as she reached up to cradle the sides of his face, pulling his luscious lips to hers, her tongue searching for his.




The Last Chapter Revisited



He drove his cock ruthlessly into her sloppy pussy, grinding his hips against hers as she wrapped her legs around his waist amd pulled his body tightly to hers, not wanting a single millimeter of his glorious cock to escape her.

"OOOOOOOHHHH!!!!! . . . . GOD!!! OH . . . MY . . . GOD!!!!! OOOOOOOHHHHHH!!!!!! FUCK!!!!! BABEEEE!!!!" she screamed as she came, writhing in ectasy beneath her young stud's bulk, her heart pounding in her chest as her manicured fingers dug into the boy's broad, muscular back.

As her orgasm coursed through her body, she felt his big cock spurt violently, filling her womb with rope after thick rope of his sticky seed. She locked her mouth onto his as her orgasm began to slowly fade, their tongues softly dueling as his cock jerked between her legs.

Later, as they laid next to one another, catching their breath, Randi laughed. "That . . . was quite a work-out!"

The young man smiled and teased "Are you going to need another cigarette!?"

SEVEN

The young man was on his back, Randi lying next to him on her side raised up on one arm. One slender leg was thrown over his, a taut thigh rubbing deliciously against his fat package, her tiny foot pushed under one knee.

Randi was drinking soft kisses from his incredible lips, her tongue darting into his mouth, her fingers gently rolling one of his nipples as he cupped one of her pert breasts. He slid his hand down her flat tummy and between her legs, pushing a finger past her pussy lips and up into still soaking wet tunnel.

She moaned softly into his mouth and began to rotate her hips, his finger working the front side of her pussy wall causing her to squirm with pleasure.

Randi thought she heard the distant rumbling of her gargage door being engaged and her eyes popped open in alarm, her lips still pressed to his as she listened intently.

She heard the downstairs door open and quickly jumped up, running into the master bath, closing the door behind her. The young man heard the shower starting as he quickly got to his feet, slipping back into his work-out gear before straightening the bedsheets. He stepped out into the hallway, closing the double doors to the bedroom, before walking calmly down the steps.

From the landing he saw Randi's husband looking up at him from the large living room, a look of suprise on his face.

"Hey, Buddy! . . . I didn't see your car. Is your mom upstairs?"

"Yeah . . . I think she just got in the shower. I left my car at the gym and caught a ride home with her. I'll run back there later when I lift with Jason."

Jake's dad smiled proudly at his son, a starting linebacker at the University of Cincinnati.

"Well, I appreciate your work ethic, but don't overdo it . . . Okay? I know this is gonna pay off in a big way this season, but don't be afraid to have some fun, too!!"

"I hear you." Jake quickly agreed, hoping that his dad wouldn't detect the distinctive smell of sex that covered his sweaty body.

"Are you and mom going out tonite?"

"Yea . . . I'm taking her back to that new french place 'Rue' something or other. It's perfect for her . . . they hardly give you anything to eat! But our marriage counselor thinks its important that we make time for each other. He's really doing a great job for your mom and I."

Jake listened as his father continued "I'm not complaining, we've been getting along great lately."

Lowering his voice, he added "I realize she's your mom and all . . . and you probably don't notice these things . . . But Jesus, your mom keeps herself in incredible shape. She has got one amazing body, let me tell you!!!" smiling proudly.

Jake caught himself sputtering as his mind quickly replayed the ravaging he had just given her. Composing himself he replied:

"I'm sure she does . . . You two have a great time tonite. I'll see you when you get home."

EIGHT

Randi stood next to the bed, naked except for a pair of black lace-top thigh highs and platform stiletto sandals with 5 inch heels. She occasionally liked to dress up slutty for her son and, for some reason, this was his favorire outfit.

They had rented a hotel suite for a long afternoon of hot, dirty sex and Jake had just finished fucking his mom doggie style in front of the big mirror above the dresser.

Using just the tip of a manicured finger, Randi slowly brushed a long, loose strand of hair from in front of her eyes, a gesture Jake always found incredibly erotic, as she smiled lewdly down at her son, her beautiful blue eyes smoldering behind a dark, smoky eye shadow as she reapplied a thick, shiny gloss to her lips.

She reached for her cigarettes on the bedside table and flipped the top of the hard pack, sliding a cigarette into her palm. Cupping her tiny gold lighter, she lit it and took a long, slow drag, tilting her chin and exhaling a thin stream, as her hand dropped to her side.

"You were fantastic, Baby!!! . . . As always!"

Jake smiled up at his sexy mom as he stretched on the bed, rubbing his hand over his short blonde hair.

"So were you, mom. I hope these walls are thick, . . . because you got pretty loud there at the end!"

Randi laughed and took another drag from her cigarette, tapping an ash into a glass as she exhaled.

Looking down at her perky breasts, she grabbed them in her hands, the long, white cigarette held between two outstretched fingers as she bounced them up and down.

"I'm thinking about getting my boobs done." she said matter-of-factly, as she studied her breasts clinically.

"AAAAhhh . . . I don't know, mom. I think they look great. They really fit your body."

"I know . . . I'm not thinking about clown boobs or anything." Her eyes glinting mishcievously. "Nothing like Mrs. Mason's!"

Jake felt himself blush as his mother smiled at his reaction. Randi had caught Jake screwing Janet Mason, his then girlfriend's mother a few summers ago. This discovery had set the stage for Randi sleeping with her son, completing, in her mind, her transformation into a complete and total slut.

"Baby . . . I'm not even a C cup at this point. I was alot fuller before I had you and your sister. Do you like Mrs. Laine's tits . . . or do you like her daughter's better." Randi teased with a sly grin.

Jake laughed out loud."Well . . . since you're asking. Mrs. Laine looks incredible . . . but, I've never had the pleasure of seeing them up close . . . Like I have Abby's!" he grinned.

Andrea Laine was one of Randi's closest friends and the sexy brown-haired MILF had gotten her boobs done when she turned forty. Perfect D cups, Randi thought they looked at felt completely natural. Abby, and Randi's daughter Katie were both seniors in high school. Randi knew that her friend's beautiful daughter had caught Jake's eye when she was over at their house, and it was no suprise to that her sexy son had hooked up with her.

"Well . . . I'm sure I could arrange for that little oversight to be corrected!" Randi smiled. Andrea was a sexy cougar in her own right and she and Randi had shared many crazy nights in pursuit of young cock.

Jake reached up and pulled his mother playfully onto the bed. One hand slid gently up the side of her face as he pulled her lips to his. They kissed, gently at first, his tongue darting past her wetly shining lips, then much more passionately as he turned her head for a better angle.

"No thanks." he told her, lust building in his eyes. "I've done the mother-daughter thing and it can get a little crazy!!"

He kissed her softly as his hand slid between her legs. 

"Plus . . . I've got enough to keep me busy right here!! . . . You ready to go again?" he asked with a glint in his eye.

Randi kissed her son hard on the lips and pinched his chin between her fingers, her gorgeous blue eyes flashing as she playfully scolded him.

"What a silly question to as your mother!"



The Last Chapter



As Jake took a long pull from the beer bottle, Randi picked up a book of matches from the bedside table. Holding her cigarette and the matchbook in the same hand, she pulled a match off and struck it, bringing the long, white cigarette to her wetly shining lips. She shook the match as she inhaled, her eyes on her son. When she directed a thin stream away from the bed, Jake finally spoke up:

"I didn't know that you smoked."

Randi smiled wryly, looking at the glowing ember of the cigarette between her fingers.

"It's certainly been a day for suprises, hasn't it."

She was encouraged by the thin smile that crept acrossed her sexy son's face. The ice broken, Randi confessed her sins to Jake explaining that although she loved his father, her physical needs were far beyond anything he could possibly imagine or attend to. She told Jake about seeing him screwing Janet Mason and the urges that resulted from that discovery. She admitted to sleeping with a few of his former teammates and recognized that she had become reckless in her pursuit of young cock.

As Jake listened, he found himself getting more and more turned on. He realized that he had always seen his mother as a sexual creature when he would observe the effect she had on men. He knew that she was incredibly attractive and had to admit to himself that he wasn't that suprised to discover that she was fooling around on his dad. He also had to admit to himself that when he dropped Erin and continued to fuck her mother, that maybe his own sexual kinks were coming to the surface.

Randi noted her son's big cock stirring as they talked. She hadn't covered up in any fashion, was still clothed only in her lacy top thigh highs and sexy heels. She took a long, deep drag of her cigarette and crushed it out. Then, addressing her son, her deep blue eyes smoldering beneath the dark, smoky make-up said softly:

"I want to fuck you some more."

With that she kissed him, her tongue pushing hotly into his mouth. As they kissed deeply, she ran her hand lightly down his deep chest to grab ahold of his now rock hard member, gently stroking him. He could feel her wedding bands as her tiny hand slid up and down his thick shaft.

Randi shifted lower on the bed and took his heavy ball sack into her hand. Opening her mouth, she slowly slid her luscious lips over his straining dick, the sight of his sexy mother sucking his cock driving Jake crazy with lust. Her head bobbed a slow, steady rhythm, her lips smacking wetly, a low moan coming from deep in her chest.

After several incredible minutes, Randi pulled her lips from her son's big cock and admired her handiwork, pleased with the result. Throwing one leg over him, and grasping the thick base of his shaft, Randi slowly lowered her hot cunt over the fat head of Jake's cock. She inhaled sharply through her nose, her eyes fluttering in passion, and began to slowly ride him, bracing herself on his smooth chest. Jake slid lower on the bed as Randi picked up the pace, her tits bouncing as she smacked her sweet ass on his muscular thighs, groaning thickly:

"AAAAhhhhh . . . GOD!! Mommy loves feeling your cock deep inside her pussy!!!! . . . So deep! AAAAAAAhhhh . . . Yeah Baby . . .Fuck me! . . Give mommy a good fucking!!!!!"

And he did.

FOURTH CHAPTER

Randi's company had a formal dinner planned for all its executives and their parent company at the Palace restaurant in Cinncinati. Since her husband was still out of the country, Randi got herself a room right upstairs at the hotel she had spent numerous romantic weekends with her husband, . . . and others. 

She was wearing a black scoop necked dress that hugged her body perfectly and the diamond bracelet she had gotten on her last anniversary. Her hair was down and she was probably wearing way too much make-up for a business affair.

Back in her room, she poured herself a glass of wine and walked across the room on her sexy strappy heels to the plush chair next to the king-sized bed. She lit a cigarette and settled back into the chair sipping her wine. 

A short time later, when Jake came into the dimly lit room, he found his mother still seated, her slender legs crossed seductively, her elbow propped up on the arm of the chair, blue smoke, back-lit, rising from the long cigarette she held between her outstretched fingers. Smiling lewdly, she got up from her seat to greet her sexy, young lover.

Jake was wearing a black mock turtle-neck, his big, muscular body stretching the fabric, over top of some chocolate brown pants. His blue eyes flashed as he hungrily gazed at his beautiful mother.

She threw her arms over his shoulders, tilting her head back as he lowered his lips to hers. They kissed softly, their tongues dancing, Jake tasting the wine and smoke on her breath.

"MMMMMMmmmmmm Baby. I've missed you!" Randi purred happily. "I think that I may have disappointed several of the guys from work when I left the party earlier. They were insisting that I stay for a few more drinks. They know I have a room and I think a few of them were hoping for an invitation."

Jake kissed his mother deeply, driving his tongue into her mouth. "They'd be crazy if they weren't. Jesus, you look incredible tonite!"

Randi laughed in appreciation and pulled from his embrace.

"Can I get you something to drink? They've stocked some decent beer."

Jake took a seat in the chair his mother had vacated as she pulled a bottle from the mini-bar. She handed him the beer, then stood a few feet from the chair. As he looked up at his sexy MILF, she smiled as she slowly lifted her skirt, revealing a pair of black,lace thong panties. Randi winked as she worked them down over her firm ass and shapely legs, letting them drop to her ankles. 

She moved between he son's legs to sit across his lap. Randi tilted his head upwards, with her hands cradling the sides of his face, and kissed him, her tongue searching for his. When she lifted on leg and placed her foot on the arm of the chair, Jake ran his hand gently up her calf to her inner thigh, then slowly between her legs, feeling the heat from her pussy. He ran his fingers lightly along the outside of his mother's pussy lips, feeling her pleased response. He rubbed her swollen clit with the heel of his hand before plunging his finger deep into her warm, wet, tunnel.

Randi moaned softly, her hips rolling on her son's lap, feeling his cock straining against her ass. Several minutes later, Jake shifted picking Randi easily up into his arms and carrying her a few feet to the bed. Randi pulled her dress up above her waist as her son knelt between her outstretched legs.

His tongue lightly danced up her leg, stopping to briefly lick and kiss the sensitive area behind her knee. He kissed her inner thigh gently, causing Randi's heart to pound in anticipation, before only nuzzling her smooth slit and starting on the other luscious thigh. Jake continued to tease his mother before she reached down with both of her hands and pulled his head hard against her. Jake smiled to himself as buried his face in her steaming pussy, she was grinding herself against him in a slow, circular fashion, groaning loudly. Jake loved to go down on his mom and knew exactly what she liked. Soon Randi's body began to writhe, her breathing ragged.

"That's it Baby! That's a good boy!! AAaah, Shit . . . That feels so good!!! Eat my pussy, Baby! Eat mommy's pussy!!! You're gonna make me cum!!!"

Jake added a finger to the mix and within seconds, Randi felt her first orgam of the evening crash in a wave throughout her body. She pinned her son's head between her taut thighs, now rubbing her pussy up and down his face. When her body finally went completely slack, Jake remained on his knees happily lapping her pussy juices.

He stood up next to the bed and removed his shirt, kicking off his leather sandals. Randi rose and kneeled on the side of the bed next to him, reaching down to grab the hem of her dress. She pulled the dress up over her head, her back arched slightly, her tiny breast jutting invitingly.

She shook her long blonde mane and looked at her son, taking in the clearly defined muscles of his deep chest and broad shoulders. Clad only in a black lace bra and her strappy heels, Randi, still kneeling on the side of the bed, pulled Jake to her, her arms over his shoulders, her mouth open expectantly. As they kissed, Jake held his mother gently by her rounded hips,their lips smacking, their tongues entwined, Randi's hands now resting on his thick, smooth chest.

She slid her hands down his chest and quickly undid his belt, unsnapping his pants. She lowered the zipper and pulled his pants and boxers over his ass cheeks. Her son's fat cock sprang out at her and she caught him in her tiny hands. She stroked him gently as they continued to kiss. Randi pulled away from his hungry lips and lowered her head, holding his long, thick shaft in between both of her hands, with her palms flat and fingers extended. 

Randi lovingly took the plum-sized head of his cock eagerly into her hot mouth. Working only the end of his big dick, she licked and sucked him, her tongue finding the spots that she knew would drive her son insane. When she finally dropped her jaw and took his shaft deep down her throat, Jake groaned out loud, his head back, his hands resting on his mother's toned shoulders.

"AAAaaaaahhhh . . . Fuck Mom!!! That feels so awesome!!!! Keep sucking my cock, Mom!!"

Randi moaned as she sucked her son's dick, her hands working with her mouth, her head bobbing a steady, practiced rhythm. Jake desparately wanting to bury his cock in his mother's pussy, eased her up from between his legs. She looked at him lustily, her blue eyes flashing beneath her dark, smoky make-up and ran her tongue over her wetly, shining lips. Jake kissed her roughly and slowly bent her back across the bed, her tiny breast pressed deliciously against his chest, her arms thrown over his broad shoulders.

Jake propped himself up on his arms as Randi eagerly spread her legs. She raised her head up from the mattress to watch as her son's thick cock pushed past her pussy lips and disappeared between her legs. Her head fell back onto the bed, a contented smiled creeping across her beautiful face as Jake slowly began to fuck her.

Jake knew what his mother liked and his long, deep strokes were mixed with shorter, faster ones, the nerve endings surrounding the opening to her pussy sang in excitement. Randi grabbed the thick muscles on the back of Jake's arms and raised her head, her mouth open, tongue extended. Jake lowered his lips to his mother's, their tongues dancing, their mouths opening and closing in unision, her sexy body writhing beneath him as he fucked her.

Jake's thick cock smacked wetly into his mother's willing pussy and he could tell from her ragged breathing that she was getting close. He stopped his thrusts, buried to the hilt in Randi's soaking pussy and looked down lovingly at his sexy mother. Randi's deep blue eyes looked back into eyes much like her own, the lewd smile of a well-fucked lady painted on her lips.

When Jake leaned down to kiss her, her hands reached up to cradle his face, her hips rolling hard against his, loving the feeling of his long, thick cock buried in her womb. Jake pulled away from her luscious lips and got to his knees, his cock sliding wetly from between his mother's legs. He knew that his mom liked it doggie-style and he wanted to make her cum in her favorite position. 

Randi sat up, reaching behind her back to unsnap her bra, tossing it on the floor. Facing the foot of the bed on her hands and knees, she got into position, eagerly anticipating her son's renewed assault on her pussy.

She felt his hands gently spread her ass cheeks and the thick bulbous head head of his cock rub agonizingly against her swollen pussy lips, before she heard him say:

"You gotta tell me what you want, Mom! "

Randi grinned. She and Jake loved this game, he loved to hear her beg for his cock.

"Baby, I need to feel your big, hard cock in my pussy! I need it so bad!! Fuck your mother, Baby! Fuck your slutty mommy and make her cum all over your big cock!!"

Jake slowly slid his thick shaft deep into his mother's pussy, his thrusts slow and steady. Randi's head arched back, whipping her long blonde hair around as she pushed her ass back to meet his strong thrusts, her breasts swinging lewdly beneath her. 

"That's it Baby! That's it!!! OOOooohh God! OOOOOhhh my God!!! Yes!!! SHIT!! Your mom's a whore and she needs your fat cock!! Fuck your mother, Baby! FUCK ME HARDER!!!!"

Jake responded quickly, driving his thick shaft even faster into his mother, his flat belly smacking against her sweet ass causing it to ripple with the force of his thrusts. Randi felt her orgasm building and wanted to feel her son cum inside her. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Jake, his face intense, his thickly muscled body straining as he pumped his hard rod deep into her.

"Do you like fucking your mother?" she purred, "Do you like mommy's wet pussy?!"

Jake spat "AAAaahhh . . . Fuck Yeah!! I love fucking you Mom!!!"

Randi felt his cock stiffen as she clenched him with her pussy muscles, the first wave of her own orgasm spreading across her body.

"Then fuck me, Baby!!! FUCK YOUR MOTHER!! Give it to me hard, Baby! . . . Fuck me like a whore!!!" Then Randi added the kicker, "Just like all your teammates did!!!!!"

"AAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhh . . . FFfffuucckk!" Jake roared as rope after rope of his jism ripped into his mother's pussy, Randi driving her ass back as her orgasm nearly caused her to faint.

"YOU HOT LITTLE SLUT!!" Jake continued, his cock still jerking, his fingers digging into his mother's tight ass.

Completely drained, Jake fell back onto the bed, his deep chest rising and falling, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Randi rolled out of bed, wobbling slightly on her high heels as she disappeared into the bathroom. When she returned she curled up in her son's arms, her head lying on his chest. She ran her french-manicured fingernails lightly over his skin pleased to note that his thick hose, which was resting across a muscular thigh, began to stir.

Randi raised her head and slid one hand up his chest to tilt Jake's face towards hers. She kissed him softly, her tongue darting into his mouth. 

"MMMMMmmmmmm, Baby! " she moaned softly between kisses. "That was wonderful! Nobody fucks me like you do . . . Nobody!!"

Randi kissed him deeply, her hand reaching down to find her son's cock nearly fully recovered. A sly smile lit up her face, her sexy blue eyes glinting. "But you know" she added as she began to stroke him, "Your mother is such a slut for hard . . . . young . . . cock, that once is never . . . ever . . . enough!!"

Randi laughed as Jake rolled her over on her back, kissing her roughly, then asking her:

"Do you need another fucking?!"

Randi pulled her son to her eager lips as she reached between her legs for his long, hard cock.

"Yes Baby!!" she whispered as she felt him slide into her hot, wet pussy. "Mommy always needs a good fucking!!!"

THE LAST CHAPTER

When Jake left for football practice at the end of the summer, Randi found herself becoming impossibly horny. Although it had been more difficult to find time to be alone with her son when her husband returned from his business trip, the two of them had managed nicely. Whether it was a late night rendevous in their basement guestroom, a quick blow job in Randi's SUV, or a couple of stolen hours at a local motel, Randi and her son were unable, or unwilling, to contain their lust for one another.

A few weeks after Jake was gone, Randi found herself needing some cock. It was a Saturday morning so she called Curtis Adams to invite him over. She told him that her husband was playing golf and that her daughter would be busy most of the day. When she asked him if he might like to see a new shade of lip gloss that she had bought, Curtis laughed, immediately catching her joke, and told her he would be right over.

As Randi rode her young lover, her tight little ass bouncing rapidly down onto his long cocc, she was again struck by what a beautiful young boy he was. A former high school teammate of her son's, he was a finely muscled boy with mocha skin, his loose braids were held back with a skinny head band. He had one tattoo on a thick bicep, another in script across his six-pack abs and he loved for her to play with his nipples when she was on top.

When he rolled her over onto her back and began to drive into her with long, deep strokes, she noticed that it was lightly raining before her young lover's kisses caused her to focus on the heat building between her legs.

Later, after bringing Randi to a delicious orgasm, Curtis pulled his full lips from hers, breathing heavily, and began to thrust his cock even faster into her warm, wet, tunnel. Randi knew that he was getting close and she drove her ass off the bed, her pussy muscles pulling on his thick, dark shaft.

Randi thought she heard a noise downstairs, but then Curtis kissed her roughly,his tongue thrust hard into her mouth. Randi returned the kiss with passion, her hands cradling his face, her pussy eager to feel his hot cum, her hips rolling hard against him.

Randi's heart stopped when she faintly heard her husband call from downstairs "Hey, Honey. Whose car is that in the driveway?"

Although she distinctly heard her husband coming up the stairs, Curtis was oblivious, his hard cock relentlessly pounding into the sexy MILF.

Everything seemed in slow motion as Randi turned her head towards the bedroom door and saw the doorknob begin to turn. As the door started to open she felt the first hot jet of jism rip into her pussy and heard Curtis cry:

"AAAAaaaahhhh . . . FUCK!!! MRS. BOEHMON!! I'M CUMMMING!!!!!"