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Slip of the Tongue

By: DanielQSteele1



 (c) 2013 - Daniel Quentin Steele

((As always, my great thanks goes to Curiouss for his work in cleaning up my words. And if anyone has a bone to pick with the stories, please leave Curiouss out of it. I'm responsible and sometimes my glitches overwhelm him. But he does a great job.))

*

"And now it is my great pleasure to introduce a man I'm having sex with, Robert Anderson, Anchor and chief spokesperson for WJXT Channel 4 in Jacksonville."

I stopped the tape at that point. The speaker was a tall redhead, dressed in a clingy red evening gown cut low enough to display some of her delectable breasts and from another angle a low cut back, the red burnishing the ruddy skin and the mane of thick hair coming down almost to her waist.

There was nothing unusual about her expression, except a slight smile as if she had made a joke she expected her audience to enjoy. I wondered what the joke was about an apparently happily married woman admitting to having sex with a man she wasn't married to in front of 500 movers and shakers from around the nation.

The fact that Roxanne Hunter was my wife made it more interesting.

Bobby Carroll, who knew she was my wife, grinned at me and said, "I told you she said it, Tommy. But that's not the funny part. Roll the tape."

"There's more funny coming?"

"Hit it."

I sat in front of the monitor and stared at my friend. It was surreal, but Bobby wouldn't be laughing if he didn't think it was funny.

I hit the play button.

As soon as the words came out of her mouth she lifted her gaze from the papers in front of her on the lectern of the conference room at the Westin Snowmass Resort near Aspen, Colorado. She glanced out at the audience and the camera caught her glazed expression as it must have sunk in on her what she had said.

Even for a redhead with the dusky skin of her Mexican mother, the blush that spread over her cheeks, her upper chest and back was clearly visible.

A quick pan of the audience showed stunned expressions and a few beginning smiles.

"I -- Oh God -- that didn't come out right. What I MEANT to say was, a man I would LOVE to have sex with, like 99 percent of you ladies out there and most of the female population of Jacksonville where he and I hail from. Now be honest, there's a reason he's the biggest anchor -- BIGGEST? -- oh my God!"

She turned to the blonde man sitting beside her on the dais and said, "Please, Robert, get up here before I dig my grave with my mouth and destroy my marriage. Help me out here."

He pulled his chair back and stood up to his full height, six inches over her tawny five foot ten. He was a big dude. He stood beside her for a moment and then put his arm around her and gave her a kiss on the cheek which brought cheers and wolf whistles, most from women in the crowd.

"I wish I'd known about the sex, Rox, I would have enjoyed it a lot more."

At that the audience erupted. I understood it. Most of the time, Literacy events anywhere in the country for educators, politicians and anyone trying to reduce the rate of illiteracy were respectable, sober and uplifting events. Funny, not so much - actually not at all!

This was a little different, involving educators from around the country, primarily inner cities, who had come together in the pleasant environs of Aspen just before Christmas as a sort of reward for their good work over the past year. Probably 99 percent of them had never heard of Roxanne or Anderson. I was sure that, after enjoying the night, they'd go back to bars around town, party and maybe get in a little skiing the next day - not your normal Literacy environment.

Standing up in front of the room, Anderson was cool, confident and sexy. It was easy to understand why WJXT had almost regained it's previously dominant position in the Jacksonville/Northeast Florida television market, stealing a chunk of my own WJXT -12 audience. He was eye-candy for females.

All anchors, male or female, were, of course. You never saw ugly anchors anymore. The only relatively unattractive staff you ever saw on television were field reporters, and even a few of the good ones had been canned around town for the sin of being too fat or too old or just DULL on camera. It wasn't fair, but it was life. It was business.

Everybody knew that Anderson was only here temporarily. He really was a good newsman, working his way up from field reporter instead of vaulting into the anchor position from journalism school with his looks and sex appeal. The networks are always looking for smart and sexy. He wouldn't be here longer than another year -- if that.

Anderson gave the audience one of those looks that told every female -- every person -- that he was talking to them personally. Then he glanced back at Roxanne. She blushed and I thought there was something that passed between them but it might have been because I was pissed.

He looked back at the audience and said, "I'm sure this will come as news to you, but the beautiful Ms. Hunter's husband is Tommy Hunter, news director at our competitor Channel 12 in the great city of Jacksonville, Florida where I am happy to work. Much, as a competitive newsman, I would love to be sticking it -- to Mr. Hunter -- I can reassure him that I have not been up to anything with his wife."

He looked up straight into the camera and I know the son of a bitch was speaking directly to me.

"Not that I wouldn't love sticking it -- to him -- but if I had ever had the pleasure, I would definitely remember it - and I don't! Although I have to tell you, I may have some pleasant dreams in the future."

He looked down at his notes and when he looked up again 'hot and sexy' had been replaced by 'earnest and sincere,' as he began, "But all joking aside, we're here tonight about a very serious subject. There are thousands of people in our community, in communities around this nation from the poorest to some of the wealthiest, who simply can't read. Not a can label, or a prescription, or instructions on how to take medicine. They are or will be crippled throughout their entire lives because they lack one basic skill for survival in the modern world. They can't read. We're here tonight to thank each and all of you for your efforts to solve this problem."

From that point on it was a sincere, routine and sober speech, as was the rest of the evening. I had seen portions of it. In certain situations we swapped coverage, and not just on the huge stories. It would have been too expensive for both stations to send teams, but since we didn't' expect anybody to be shot or any explosions, 4 wasn't losing anything by sharing. We'd repay the favor.

I had watched portions of it, even though I hadn't seen much of Roxanne. It was my job to keep up on what other stations were doing, because it still involved a local personality and a beautiful local woman. Roxanne had gone as a representative of her employer which strongly supported the literacy campaign. She'd flown out Friday afternoon and surprised me by coming home early Sunday morning.

I'd never seen this portion before though. The tape released started with Anderson's formal speech, which I didn't think about because he was the reason 4 was covering it. 

Even above and beyond the cost, I wouldn't have sent a crew out. Our best cameraman was still dealing with the loss of his wife and child in a head-on crash three months before. I was treating him very carefully. Not just because we were friends, but because he was good, really good. Civilians think cameramen just point a camera and shoot. They have no idea.

"This was on the tape that 4 shot. They didn't use it on air because they're the family station, but they saved it on kind of a blooper reel. You know how cameramen gossip and I heard about this really good piece and talked a friend into making me a copy. It's funny as hell, don't you think?"

I stared at him and I think he began to get an inkling.

"You'd think it was funny if Carol walked into a party and told everybody she was having sex with another guy?"

"For God's sake, Tommy, it's not the same. She was joking about wanting to screw the guy. Hell, half the women in Jacksonville feel the same and if you believe the stories, a lot of them have actually done it. It was a joke. Everybody roared and - watch the tape. She wasn't guilty - embarrassed but not guilty, and he'd have to be the best actor in the world to react the way he did. Maybe she was thinking about screwing him. I'm sure she was, but fantasizing about screwing somebody is not the same thing as doing it. Hell, if that was the case, every guy in this station would have screwed Christina and half of them would be divorced by now."

Christina D'Allessandra, who went by the television name of Dallas, was the morning co-anchor. Twenty-six years old, straight black hair and the high cheekbones of her American Indian grandmother, along with a pair of headlights that caused guilty fantasies in every married man at the station, except for me. But I understood what he was saying.

"When was this shot, Bobby? That Literacy event was -- what -- a month ago? Mid December. I've never heard a word of this."

"Everybody was talking about it, but everybody took it for what it was -- a joke. Obviously Rox was embarrassed. She probably thought you'd react the way you have. I guess she knows you better than me. I thought you'd laugh about it. You've got nothing to be sensitive about. Shit, Carole has joked a few times about getting a free pass to try you out. If I was the jealous type, I'd be the one pissed off. Evidently Rox brags about you when the women have their hen parties."

I just stared at the monitor. I'd stopped it on Anderson's smiling face. Bobby was right. It was probably just an inadvertent Freudian slip. She'd been thinking about banging him and the words slipped out and she turned it, with his help, into a joke. I couldn't blame her for her fantasies. 

I was 40. She was 38. We'd only been married eight years. I'd been around. Hell, one of the reasons for getting into television was that, although I might not get the variety that singers and rock stars enjoyed, male TV types still got a fairly high female traffic count. I'd gone through a lot of one-night stands, and bedded some women in Jacksonville that would cause a lot of raised eyebrows if it was ever known. And some of them had been married.

But I'd been single and I'd never gotten a woman into bed with the help of drugs. Alcohol was a different story. I'd had a lot of women who got there because they were too drunk to use their better judgment. But hell, they were all over 21 and if they chose to get drunk and forget they were married, I didn't think that was my responsibility.

Just before I'd gotten married I'd hooked up with the hottest woman I ever met until I ran into Rox. Blonde, with incredible breasts, I'd run into her doing a real estate story. She was a realtor and almost convinced a confirmed bachelor to think about house hunting. We saw each other for three months. She'd been married to some insurance guy but said that didn't mean she couldn't sample some strange on the side. Alright, she was cheating and I was helping her, but I wasn't the world's moral policeman.

I knew Rox had been around. You can't be 30 years old, look like her and not have had a few men. More than a few I knew, because I was a reporter before I became a director and I checked her out. She was an executive with the Ritz Carleton hotel chain on Amelia Island and that put her in the path of a lot of rich, horny guys and she had done a lot of sampling.

We wound up in my bed after a news media convention, and then she kept coming back for me again and again and she confessed to me that she was scared because she'd never felt this way about another man. A few months later I confessed that I just wasn't happy when I wasn't around her, not just for the sex but just being with her, going to a movie or walking the beach at St. Augustine or Ponte Vedra. Of course, they all ended with us in bed. 

However, in contrast to every other woman I'd ever gone out with, the dates weren't something I had to go through for the bed time. I realized one night, walking the beach near St. Augustine as the waves crashed a few feet from us with the incoming tide, that just walking alongside her, hearing her voice and her laugh, was enough to make me happy. If we made it to bed, that was great, but I didn't need it!

I told her what I was feeling and we walked and talked until it was almost dawn. Then we want back to my place, went to bed and just curled up next to each other. We didn't need the sex. 

Of course, the next morning I woke up with her sucking me and she proceeded to fuck me until I thought my cock was going to fall off but, it was just a celebration. We both realized this was the Real Thing and were married three months later.

As I thought about all that I looked up at the big clock above the monitors. It was 7 p.m. and we were long past prep for our local Thursday night newscast. January 26, 2012 - past the holidays and life was back to January humdrum. Casey Martine would handle the overnight and I'd be back at 8 a.m. to prepare for the next night's hour and a half local news cast. 

"Come on man, let me buy you a beer and then we can go home to our loving wives," Bobby said, casting a worried look at me.

"Thanks, Bobby, but not tonight. I've got a few last things to finish up and then I'm heading home."

"Tommy, man, you're going to be alright, aren't you? It was just a joke that went wrong, that's all it was. I'm an idiot sometimes. I shouldn't have shown that to you. Carol always tells me I'm an idiot - maybe she's right."

I reached out and punched him in the arm, hard enough to make him wince. 

"Alright, you're an idiot. You dragged it out of me but - I'm not mad about the tape! Honestly, I know it was a flubbed joke. I've got some other things to think about. The network brass is pushing us to do an eval on Christina and I'm not sure if she's quite ready to move up. 

I want to give her the chance, but I'm just not sure she's ready."

Of course, it would be the station manager, Nick Carnos, who made that decision, but we'd worked together a long time and he trusted my judgment of on-air talent. If we pushed her up and she flamed out, it would reflect badly on Nick and myself, and we both hoped for a future beyond Jacksonville. However, if I didn't push her, I knew it would break her heart. She really was a nice girl and not the typical Diva you'd expect from a woman who looked the way she did.

"Please, please, please, don't push to kick her upstairs. God knows how many male hearts would be broken around here. I know my sex life with Carol would suffer. Half the time I'm inside Carole, I'm fantasizing about Christina. Don't, for God's sake, say anything to Rox about that. Women talk and Carol would freeze my dick off if she found out."

"Get out of here, Bobby. My lips are sealed. Let me finish so I can get home to Rox."

When he left I went into the archives and pulled every piece of tape I could find that had been shot of the meeting besides the raw un-broadcast tape that 4 hadn't run. We routinely tape other stations' coverage as well to make sure we don't miss things. Using the computer, I found every second that had been shot that night. 

Actually, outside of his speech, there wasn't much footage of my wife and Anderson. I ran the spot where they had exchanged that glance after her flub. I couldn't read it and I'd watched a lot of tape. But there was something there. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

I went over the rest of the meeting on tape. It was incredibly boring with an unbelievably large number of shots of people coming to the dais, accepting awards and thanking their significant others for support. Amid it all though, I found two more spots!

The first was actually prior to her introduction. It was a shot from some distance of Anderson walking into the room, with his arm around my wife's waist! They were talking and she was laughing - just as they walked inside she had leaned over to him and whispered something up into his ear. As she did she reached over to touch his arm, the way a woman will touch you when she either knows you very well or wants to get to know you very well.

When I saw the look on his face, I knew he was fucking her.

It was anti-climactic after that, but I kept looking. There was a moment when the camera was focused on some educator standing at the microphone with her award. It must have been only a few minutes before Rox introduced him as the main speaker.

Behind them I could see Rox and Anderson sitting and picking at their plates. It only took a second, but the camera caught him gently flicking a piece of something off her lower lip. A moment later she laughed softly and looked lovingly at him. Then her eyes glanced up toward the audience and the cameraman and she jerked and pulled herself away from him.

It would never fly in a court of law, but there was no way in hell two strangers or even casual friends would have been interacting that way. It was the behavior of two people very familiar, and fond of each other, yet she had never said a word about him to me, and I knew they had no reason to be that well acquainted.

My cell buzzed. I looked -- Rox!

"Hi."

"Where are you, baby? It's nearly 9. Is something going on at the station?"

She still worked for the Ritz but on a Monday-Friday schedule, no weekends officially, although they called her in plenty on the weekend. She drove from home in Mandarin to Amelia Island and home again each working day, so usually she didn't make it in until 7 or 8 p.m. at the earliest. I was usually home before her, with something to eat whether picked up on the way or defrosted.

"Just working late on a project. You're a little late. Where have you been?"

"Oh. We had a few things I had to work a little late on. And then Jan and Cassandra wanted to stop off for a drink at that new place just before you get to 95. Great drinks and they have these Yummy young waiters delivering the drinks. Jan and Cassandra played this game of taking their bras off in the bathroom to see which one could get the waiter hard first."

Jan was single and Cassandra divorced from a wife-beating psycho, and Rox loved regaling me with the stories of all the dissolute things they did as single women. She said it made me hotter when I got home.

The silence lengthened.

"You must really be tired. You don't even want to know who won the Stiffie contest?"

"Not really. I guess I am tired. Can you throw something in the microwave. I'll be home in about an hour. I just want a bite to eat and then I'm hitting the sack."

"If I dabble some whipped cream in certain spots, is there any chance you might do a little nibbling, too?"

"I don't think so Rox, I really am beat. You wouldn't get my A game. Can I get a rain check?"

There was a longer silence. I was 40 years old and I worked crazy hours and there had been times I just wasn't in the mood. She respected them, because I knew when the job had gotten to be a little much for her and I didn't push her, but it didn't happen very often.

"Okay, Tommy. Would you like a back rub or something. Maybe a stiff drink?"

"No, not tonight. Just a little something to eat and then some sleep."

"Would you mind very much if your loving wife cuddled up with you while you went to sleep? I always sleep better next to you."

"Baby, this is one of those nights when what I need is sleep. If you don't mind, I'm going to the guest bedroom. That way I'll get sleep without bothering you and you can stay up and get some work done without worrying about bothering me."

That had never happened before.

"Tommy, what's wrong. Have I done something? What's going on?"


Slip of the Tongue



"Nothing, just let it lie for tonight, okay? I'll see you when I get home."

Then, I just hung up on her! That had never happened before but then again, I'd never known for sure that she was a cheating bitch.

I made copies of the pertinent portions of the tape. It wouldn't matter because they wouldn't have any effect in a court of law, but I'd need them for those moments late at night when I'd try to convince myself that it had been my imagination, that Rox couldn't have done that to me. Because I wanted to make myself believe even now that I was wrong, but I knew I wasn't.

When I walked into our condo she was sitting at the plate glass window set into the rear wall of our first floor den. That window was the reason we had bought it. I couldn't count the nights we had lain on a rug in front of that window and made love under the stars.

She was up and out of the love seat and at me before I got to the counter that separated the kitchen from the den. She hugged me and wrapped that incredible body around me before trying to kiss me.

For the first time in our life together -- before and after marriage -- I turned my face so she kissed my cheek and let her hold me. I didn't reach out with my hands to hold her. She hugged me again. It was seldom if ever that I didn't start getting hard within a few seconds. Tonight I don't think I could have, even if I had been in the mood.

Slowly she backed up and stared at me as if she didn't recognize me.

"I'm really tired. Did you heat something up?"

"Chinese, beef and broccoli. Do you want me to make you a plate?"

"That's okay. I will. I'm going to head into the guest room, eat a bit and then sleep."

She reached out with one slender hand and touched my shoulder, as if I were a fragile piece of crystal that might shatter. The picture of her putting her hand on Anderson's shoulder in that possessive and loving gesture flashed into my mind and she must have seen something on my face. She dropped her hand and stepped back.

"Tommy, what is it. I know something is wrong. Don't tell me there isn't. You're frightening me."

I looked into her eyes and I couldn't even now believe that what I knew to be true had happened. For the smallest fraction of a second I wanted to pretend that I could get past this. We could go on and I'd forget that I'd ever seen the tape of that meeting. I would resist the urge to have her followed or bug her phone or check her email for secret accounts and lovers' messages. I would put it behind me, I would force myself to forget, and some day, some time, the denial would be the truth and it would be over. Then it would be as if it had never happened.

It only lasted for the smallest fraction of a second. You can't un-ring a bell. I could never forget what I'd seen, what I now knew. I don't know for how long, but there must have been times she had come to me from his bed. I knew how she was in bed. She'd lain underneath him if she didn't ride him, and she'd screamed and scratched his back as he poured himself into her. Maybe, if he hadn't used a condom, I'd fucked through his semen remaining inside her, and she hated condoms.

She must have thought about him on nights when I lay on top of her, when I had thought I was her entire world. Now, I realized, I was an ignorant stranger, standing on the outside of the world she had forged with another man.

I looked into her eyes and she seemed to be the same woman I had planned to grow old with, but she was not that woman any more and never would be again. I had to turn away because otherwise I would burst into a child's tears. I felt the way I did as a seven year old when my mother had held my hand at my father's funeral. She had told me he had gone to heaven and he would never come back, just as now, the woman I loved had gone away, and she was never coming back.

I turned away from her as I felt my eyes flooding with tears. I walked toward the guest bedroom. I forced myself to make words. 

"I'm not hungry. I just need to sleep. We can talk tomorrow."

I could feel the force of her stare on my back as a I walked away. I stepped into the guest bedroom, which was the least used room in the unit. I closed the door behind me and locked it. Then I stripped down and set the alarm for 5 a.m. and dropped my head on the pillow. I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep, but the lie had become the reality. I couldn't have lain there for more than a couple of minutes when everything went away and then it was only a few seconds before the alarm was going off.

My unconsciousness had been a blessing. I hadn't had to think about anything. When I woke up, my mind was clear. Sometimes that happens. Without knowing how, I'd come to an accommodation with reality, with the death of my marriage and the fact that I was going to be alone now.

Oh, not 'alone' alone. There were too many women and I still had my hair and could bang away pretty good. I could still make Rox scream and hit the high notes on good nights, or what I had thought had been good nights. But I had reason to know I could still satisfy a woman. My bed wouldn't go empty.

But none of them would be Rox.

I wanted to get out before she woke up, but no such luck. She knew my schedule and came stumbling out of our bedroom, auburn hair a tangled mass, padding barefoot toward me, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She didn't look anything like the carefully prepared Roxanne she presented to the world.

I would have died for this rumpled stranger if she had still been mine.

I backed away and moved into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. She forced her way in as I stripped off and stepped into the walk-in shower, closed the sliding door behind me and turned on the hot water full blast. I shivered as the full blast of cold water hit me but in seconds it started warming up and soon was scalding, which was the way I liked it.

A few seconds later she stepped in, tall and bronzed and naked, her heavy breasts bobbing as she slipped between the hot water and me. Then she was standing against me, nipples weaving patterns against my skin, her hands dropping down to grab me and stroke me into erection. Her lips and tongue caressed the side of my face and started dropping lower.

I caught her by her shoulders and pulled her up to face me.

"No Rox, I don't have time for this. I've got some big things going on at the station and I can't play here. We'll make up for it tonight, I promise."

She stared at me and I think she must have known, but she couldn't ask me without opening up the proverbial can of worms. She had to maintain the lie that nothing had changed, that we were still a happy couple.

"Why won't you talk to me, Tommy?"

"Because I have things on my mind. I just don't have time to get into it. Just go to work -- do your thing - enjoy yourself and we'll get all this straightened out tonight -- or whenever."

She stood there with the water streaming through her thick red tangles, down the her neck and over those wonderful breasts and if I looked down far enough over her hips and that triangle between her legs I'd lost myself in so many time. It might have been water from the shower, or it might have been her tears, but water ran down her cheeks.

"You've changed, Tommy. How could you change so much in one day?"

"People change, Rox. Life is a process of change. Nothing ever stays the same. I thought you knew that."

"Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same question. Who are you, Rox? Are you the same woman I married, the woman who said she would love and cherish and be true to me for the rest of our days?"

At that the tears began and she backed away and stumbled out of the shower. I closed the shower door behind her and cleaned myself in preparation for the most important day of my life.

I finished the shower, came out, quickly ran an electric razor over my stubble and went into the main bedroom.

She lay naked on the bed that had been ours. She didn't look up when I walked in and went to the closet to pick out an outfit for work. I dressed relatively casually in slacks and a nice Hawaiian shirt - the news editor doesn't deal with the public or advertisers!

With white tennis shoes and shortie socks, I was ready to go and was about to walk out the door when she said, "Whatever you think, whatever you've heard, Tommy, I want you to know that I love you. That will never change. You have to know that."

"How do I know that, Rox?"

There was no answer as I walked away from her.

When I got to the station I knew what I was going to do. I called Sam Gold, who was the associate news director and normally would not be working until the next day. He grumbled when I asked him to come in and pull a double shift, but I volunteered to work any two weekends he selected for him. I didn't think I was going to have any really important weekend plans the rest of the year. Probably it would be a good thing to work as many weekends as possible. Then I told Martine that Gold would be in within the hour and I'd be taking off on a personal project. No questions.

As soon as Gold came in and caught up, I bowed out and made my way to my office. I needed to do some thinking, make some private phone calls, check some emails and make my plans.

At noon, Robert Anderson's private and very personal email account received a message stating, "You and that slut Roxanne Hunter have been very careless. There are photos of you fucking her. You should have been more careful. Cyclops."

At 12:15 the following message arrived with an attached photo: " I know you're angling for a job at the CBS affiliate in New York City. How do you think they'd feel about a scandal involving you and the wife of another station official, stuffing nose candy where it shouldn't go. Think they'd still be interested. Cyclops.

The attached photo had been obviously photoshopped, but it showed what appeared to be a naked Anderson in bed with a naked Roxanne Hunter and a bowl containing a very suspicious white powder that Anderson was snorting.

At 12:30 the next message arrived: "The clock is ticking. Doesn't matter whether the photo stands up, there's enough proof of what you two have been doing. Did you know that the new part owner of the group that bought a controlling share of the top CBS station in New York City is a very quiet, but devout, member of the Moral Majority and a devout Christian. How do you think he'll feel about the scandal? Cyclops."

At 1 p.m. a message was routed though the electronic maze of bounced messages to "Cyclops," saying, "You're a joke. Go away."

At 1:15 the following message was sent to Anderson. 

"Let's see who ends up laughing."

At 2 p.m. Anderson messaged Cyclops: "You win. What do you want? It's worth it just to get rid of a nuisance. How much do you want?"

In reply, "No money. Just come by for a little talk. Bring yourself to the New Siam on Adams Street across the street from the Bell Tower, 3 p.m. If you're not there by 3:15 I'm gone."

At 3:10 p.m., Anderson walked into the New Siam and looked around. He didn't see anyone he recognized until I turned from my seat in a booth at the back and waved at him.

"Hi, Robert. What are you doing here?"

He just stood there for a moment, then walked to the back and stood there looking down at me.

"You realize I've got a couple of friends from the Sheriff's Office standing outside waiting to arrest you for extortion?"

"Bring them in if you're ready for the Shitstorm Apocalypse."

"Big talk for a guy who's career is ready to go into the toilet. You won't ever work for any other news organization anywhere in the world."

"I don't think so. What kind of threats did you get? Phone threats? Did anybody ask for money? I'd like to know why you're in here threatening me."

"You know damn well what. E-mail messages telling me I had to be here to keep you from spreading false rumors and faked pictures of your wife and myself."

I just stared at him and enjoyed the moment.

"So, you have electronic copies of messages, apparently, from someone threatening you, yet not asking for anything. Wonder if that constitutes extortion. In any case, I just happen to have gotten a yen -- no pun intended - for some Thai food. If you charge me with being the person behind those messages, good luck getting anything that looks like proof.

"In the first place, it wasn't me. 

"Secondly, whoever did this to you was, I'm sure, aware of the new technology that makes tracking down the source of an email virtually impossible or at least very difficult.

"I know the cops or FBI could eventually find this person, but I kind of doubt they're willing to put the kind of money or manpower into the challenge they'd face just to convict someone for sending vague threats, if they were even threats! I have a feeling you and they will be international laughing stocks before it's over but, you're welcome to try since I had nothing to do with it. Then, when they fail and my innocence is proven, I'll play this damn story up and see if I can get national to look at it. Then I'll sue you personally for trying to destroy me so you could get my wife."

"It would make a great story and you would come out looking like a winner, for sure."

A tall guy in a Sheriff's Office uniform walked back toward us. He tapped a button in his right ear which made me assume they were taping our conversation outside.

"Jesus Christ, Anderson, you want us to launch a full scale police investigation wasting god knows how many man hours and our tech guys over what might be threatening emails. Not asking for any money. By a guy who's pissed because you're banging his wife? Really?"

"It was still an extortion plot, Brady."

"Anderson, grow up. I only came with you because I got curious. I can just see the State Attorney moving ahead full force against a respected news guy over what MIGHT be a threat."

He looked down at Anderson, then at me.

"I'll look the other way. Why don't you guys just go out behind the Siam and pound hell out of each until you get this straightened out between you."

"Fine with me," I said and wasn't surprised to see Anderson shake his head even though he had four inches on me. He couldn't afford to have that perfect face marred. The cop just shook his head and said, "Anderson, don't call me again on crap like this. Favors go only so far."

He walked away. Anderson looked like he was getting up when I said, "Don't walk away, or you will regret it, believe me. Also turn off the bug they gave you."

"I'm tired of your shit, Hunter. You put me through all this just because of some fantasy about me and your wife."

"If you walk away, Anderson, you're going to regret it for a long, long time. You probably think I'm bluffing, but are you willing to take that chance? I just want to talk. Grab a cup of wonton soup or something."

He leaned back in the booth.

"I'm not hungry, but I am curious. What are you up to?

"Okay, cards on the table. I heard that introduction that my wife gave you at the Literacy Banquet a month ago. I also looked at a lot of tape of that night. I don't have any doubt of what's going on, but I have questions I'd like you to answer."

"I don't need to answer any questions because there's nothing going on. If you heard the whole thing, you know it was a joke. She flubbed the intro and I played off it for a laugh. Are you that damned insecure that you really believe there's something going on."

"Anderson, look at me. I'm the news director, I've been here for 15 years and a lot of people owe me favors. I also know where a lot of bodies are buried and I have a whole staff of investigators. I don't know how long you and she have been seeing each other but, unless it started the night of the Banquet, there's a trail. There are people who know things. I'm sure you were discreet, but not enough, and I WILL find out."

"If you don't talk or you lie to me today, when I do find out I'm going to destroy you. There's a photo, actually a series of them, showing you putting illegal substances up your nose at a party six months ago - taken surreptitiously by a cell phone. You never knew about it but they're real. They came to me and I put them away because you're another newsman and I didn't want to destroy your career just because you're stupid."

"You ought to realize that I know a lot of people at the networks, on both coasts - people I've met and worked with. I'll put out the word that you're undisciplined -- in regard to drugs and sex. Being an Anchorman or having a top network position isn't like being in Hollywood. It's not something that adds gloss to your reputation. It makes you unreliable and there are a lot of news directors and network people, guys in their 40s and 50s with young pretty wives, and they really don't want a hound like you screwing them."

"Maybe I won't stop you. Maybe you're on a rocket to the top, but I'm going to do my best to hurt you."

He sat back and stared at me as I outlined the situation. He hadn't said a word, then finally, "Unless....?"

I took a sip of the hot green tea the waitress had brought to the table before Anderson arrived.

"Unless you answer my questions honestly. I don't want to destroy you, although I will if I have to. I want to know how you and my wife got together, what happened. Is it still going on? If you answer truthfully, you walk out of here and I forget you exist. I am going to divorce her, but your name will never come up. I'll make it simple -- 'Irreconcilable differences'."

"How can I trust you? You can say anything, then afterwards if you get pissed at me..."

"Because I give you my promise, and there are a lot of people in this town who will tell you it's good. I've never broken my word."

He looked at me for a long time, then asked, "What is that? If it's green tea, grab a waitress. I love that stuff. I just didn't know they served it in a Thai place."

"I've been eating here a long time and the owner is a friend. He said a few people like it."

After the waitress set the pitcher and a cup in front of him, he filled the cup with steaming tea and sipped at it. Finally he looked up at me and said, "It was nothing personal, man. I knew she was married to you. We even talked about it. But it just -- it just happened."

"How do I know you're telling the truth? You're enough of an egotistical son of a bitch to be claiming something just to get a rise out of me."

"How many people know there's a small TH with an arrow pointing toward her pussy, just on the inside of her ass cheek? It wouldn't show in a bikini. You couldn't see it unless she was spread out to let someone take her from the back."

She had had the tattoo put in signifying "Tommy Hunter's pussy" two years before. At the time it had made me very happy.

He took another sip.

"We do a lot of things at the Ritz. New stories, Meetings, Conferences, and you know...you can't NOT see her if you're around her. She just stands out. So I started flirting, a little. This was about a year ago, after I first got here, and she flirted back, but it was just business. When you look like her and you're in that position, it's part of the job and I knew that, so I never expected anything to happen."

"But after awhile, I knew she was into me. I can't help how I look and I know how women react. So, after about three months, I gave it a shot but she shut me down -- hard! She actually slapped my face - first time that's happened in a long time - and I figured that was that. There were plenty of other warm bodies around."

"Into you?"

"It's the looks, the body language. They move close to you, touch your hand or arm when they don't need to. That look they give you or they'll put their hand on your knee when you're sitting together. She was definitely putting out the signs, but I misread them. I had walked her out to her car after a late meeting and tried to kiss her. She slapped me and told me she was a married woman. She got in the car and drove off, leaving me holding my dick - so to speak."




Slip of the Tongue



I stared at him and I could see it happening, unrolling like a movie in the back of my mind, because I'd gotten those signs once. I suddenly wanted to walk away, but I had to know.

"After a month or so we bumped into each other and she was cool, but okay. It got better from there. Then there was that night they held that the big Advertising Execs of North America conference. There was a cocktail party and dancing. I was there repping the station. She was there and we'd both been drinking. I asked her to dance and I couldn't help getting hard. This time she didn't pull away so I asked her if she wanted to go out for some fresh air."

"We went out into the parking lot, then off the concrete onto the grass, which was uneven. She lost her footing and I caught her, losing my balance -- we'd both been drinking pretty good. We went down in the grass...and it happened."

"It happened?"

"I might have torn her clothes off. She might have torn mine off. All I know is she had her panties off and we were doing it."

"Doing it?"

"Alright, I was on top of her pumping away and she was grabbing my ass and telling me to fuck her harder. Is that good enough for you?"

"Not really."

"It didn't take long. Good thing because 15 minutes later the wife of one of the ad execs and another ad exec who WASN'T her husband almost stumbled over us. Fortunately, we'd put our clothes back on and she was having a smoke. So we had a reason to be out there."

"She was smoking?"

She had smoked when we first married but, after I'd nagged her for a couple of years, I thought she'd kicked the habit. She said she had - another lie!

"Yeah, she said she had pretty much kicked the habit but...she was upset! She was telling me this was a big mistake and we had to forget it ever happened. Right! Usually when women are with me, they don't forget."

He noticed the look I gave him.

"What can I say. I'm tall and good looking, they tell me, and I like fucking. I don't usually get too many complaints. That's just the truth."

"Anyway, after awhile I wouldn't have minded a second round. I figured we'd already done it, but she wasn't having any of it. She stumbled off and I didn't see her again that night."

I tried to remember back - then I did! It was back in August, fucking August - six months ago! She'd had a big meeting and about midnight when I was beginning to worry about her she had called. She'd sounded...strange, like she'd been crying. Then she said she'd just had too much to drink, too much to drive home, so she was going to spend the night. The hotel always kept rooms available for staff for nights like that. I didn't think anything about it.

She'd come home the next night and, looking back, she was oddly subdued - that was the word - subdued. She was loud. She was expressive. She would grab me if I wasn't feeling in the mood and put me in the mood, but she was quiet that next day. Looking back, I even asked her about it and she just said she'd drank so much that she was still feeling the after effects. I didn't push her for sex, being a good, compassionate husband. She was quiet for a couple of days and then she was her old self.

"So?"

"About a week later she called me at the station, saying she wanted to talk, so we met at a Starbucks. She told me we'd made a bad mistake, but that it could never happen again. She loved her husband. I asked her why she'd called me. She told me she wanted to let me know it could never happen again."

He gave me a look that made me want to strangle him.

"When they tell you they wanted to meet to tell you they won't have sex with you, you can bet you're going to fuck them. We made it as far as my car before she went down on me and she was -- great, but you already know that. We drove to a park and it was mid day so it was empty. I put the seat back and she got on top. Shit, she was something else."

I knew then that I shouldn't have met with him. Not only were we going to be divorced, but all my memories of her from the time we'd met until a few nights ago were ruined. It was as if somebody had smeared shit all over them, all over eight years of my life. 

I hadn't had any choice though. Until I heard him talk about them being together, and I knew he was being straight, I'd been afraid that I wouldn't have the nerve to go through with it. I'd stare into those big brown eyes, she would cry and swear that she loved me, and I wouldn't be able to stop myself from taking her back. I would try to make myself forget, convince myself we could make it and I'd patch our marriage together somehow, go for counseling, do all those things you do when you don't want to face the fact that a marriage or relationship is dead. But I'd never trust her again, I'd never forgive her. Over time the marriage would rot and sooner or later, whether I pulled the trigger or she did, we'd walk away from each other. It would just happen very slowly and painfully, instead of sharply and quickly.

"How many times did you see her? Where did you guys get together? Did you ever do it in our condo?"

"It started pretty hot and heavy. Once she decided she was in for it, she was in all the way. The first few months we'd meet in parks, once in a while in a little motel somewhere or other where she'd rent the room because no one was likely to know her and I'd sneak in. I couldn't' afford to be recognized. But there were just days when we wanted to spend the whole day together. So we needed a room."

"Why didn't you go to your place -- or ours. Or did you?"

"We couldn't take the risk of going to my place. Too many people know me. And we couldn't go to your place -- because Rox wouldn't have it. I suggested it a couple of times. Your place is pretty transient, most of the people work so you don't have a lot of people peeking out of windows, and it would have been a lot more convenient, but Rox said no! She wouldn't discuss it, your place was off limits."

"Was it just you and her?"

He gave me a surprised look?

"You mean were we going steady? Are you crazy? She's an incredible woman, but I only saw her once a week or every other week at most. I need more than that. I usually hit a couple of new women a week and they're usually one-night stands. Some last longer. Rox lasted longer than anybody I've been with in Jacksonville."

"Did she know?"

He looked at me with a strange look.

"Are you -- do you think we were in love? That I had feelings for her, or her for me?"

"How can you be with somebody that long and not develop feelings for them, or them for you?"

"We were friends. I liked her - I do like her and I loved the sex, but I never expected anything else. Her...I know what you're saying, women can make it messy but she never did. She loved the sex. God did she love it. She's a screamer, but you know that and she did it all. Blowjobs and every position, and anal. She was hesitant but at the end I think she got off more on that than the regular way."

I entertained the thought of strangling him. I had tried anal with Rox one time. One time! She had cried and said she hated it and when I'd suggested it a couple of times over the years she had practically bit my head off for thinking only of myself and not her. But she had done everything with this son of a bitch and, according to him, loved it all.

"The funny thing is, usually when you've fucked a woman's brains out and you're lying there in bed, they want that cuddling, pillow talk crap. She was never that way, neither at the beginning nor the end. She'd suck me dry and pound me nearly unconscious and when we got through, if it was time, she'd just get dressed, kiss me on the cheek like a fucking uncle, and walk out. It ALMOST bothered me, but I realized it was great. I didn't have to worry about her clinging, no nasty phone calls, no jealousy, no talking about leaving her husband and moving with me when I went up. She was the perfect girlfriend."

I sat there and tried to take it all in. No love, no emotional bond. Just hot sex, like that was supposed to make me feel better.

"How long did it last?"

"Until the Literacy Dinner. It really rattled her when she made that slip. She was sure everyone would be talking about it and that you would somehow know and leave her. I told her she was sweating for no reason. It was a joke. Everybody laughed. I found out later it made a blooper reel, but 4 didn't broadcast it. I asked the cameraman to cut it from the tape sent to the station. It was too risqué to ever go out and -- I guess - anyone at 4 that might have known you figured she told you about it or didn't want to upset you.

"Anyway, she told me it was over at the end of the dinner. We spent that Friday night in my suite but, after that dinner, no arguments. I didn't push it. I figured she'd calm down and we'd go back to our routine. By November and December, it wasn't as hot and heavy as in the beginning, but we still got together about once a week if we could. This time, two weeks went by and not a word. Finally she called me and said it was over - she'd gotten a real scare, and this time she meant it, but I talked her into one more time. We went to Atlanta, rented a room and stayed overnight. It was fantastic. We spent the night and the next morning in bed, did everything but, when it was over, it was over. I haven't seen or talked to her since."

That was the weekend she'd had to travel to a tourism seminar in Atlanta. She'd told me she was going to be working all weekend and that she'd see me when she got back. She was beaming and happy that Sunday evening when she came back. And she'd kissed me with a mouth that had probably spent a lot of time around his cock. And we'd made love and I had no idea she had spent the previous 36 hours doing everything and more that we would do. And she'd told me she loved me with a straight face.

I felt like if I'd had anything solid in my stomach it might come up. I drank more hot tea.

He sat back and sipped his cup.

"That's it."

I thought about asking him what more damage he could do to my world. It lay in pieces around me. My marriage was over, as was my sense of myself as a man - the last ten years of my life to all intents, probably my time in Jacksonville. I probably couldn't move up but I could make a lateral move. Openings were always popping up at stations around the country. I might wind up in Podunk, Oregon or New York City, but I could get on somewhere. I'd made a pretty good name for myself.

What I couldn't do was stay here. There were too many places I might run into her, too many places I'd run into the memories we'd made together. It would be alright if I could convince myself that it didn't matter what had happened. She had just been a very good fuck for a very long time.

However it did matter because I still loved her and I realized I might for a long time. I'd lived 32 years of my life before finding that kind of love and I didn't know if I'd ever find it again, but I was going to damn well try. I hadn't realized until I found her how empty my bachelor life was. I'd thought my married friends who went home to wife and kids were insane, until it happened to me. As it turned out we couldn't have kids, but it hadn't mattered, as long as I had her.

Now, I didn't!

"We do have a deal, don't we?"

A note of concern had crept into his voice. Maybe he'd finally listened to himself and realized what he had said.

I wanted, with every ounce of bitterness in me, to hold it over his head, to break my promise and do my absolute ultimate to screw him over and try to spoil his move up the ladder. Or, simply walk outside, sucker punch him and break that fucking perfect nose, but I'd given him my word.

Also really, if he was telling me the truth, he hadn't seduced her. I don't think he could have. She had spent twenty years in the business of arousing men and keeping them at arms length so she could get what she wanted from them. I think she knew all the moves, the approaches. She had given herself to him because she wanted to, so it was on her.

"We have a deal, unless you say one word to her today about our conversation."

"Why-?"

"I'm going to talk to her. After tonight you can do whatever you want because she's going to be on the market again, but if I even SUSPECT you gave her a heads-up, all the guarantees go out the window. I'll do my best to ruin you, and I will for damn sure catch you alone sometime, somewhere, and I won't just break the nose, I'll put you in the hospital for plastic surgery on what's left of your face. You understand me?"

He raised his hand involuntarily to shield his face, his fortune. 

"Understood. If she calls, I'm in conference or out on an assignment. I won't say a word to her until and unless I get the go-ahead from you."

He stood up and started to leave, then stopped and said, without turning back, "It was never personal."

"It doesn't get any more personal. Do your best to stay away from me. I'll try, but I can't honestly tell you that if I see you again I might not forget all my promises."

I drove home early. It was only 5 p.m. which meant that I had to fight my way through rush hour traffic, so it was nearly 6 before I walked in the front door. She was standing in the kitchen with a pitcher of Sangria. She made it herself, buying fresh oranges and bananas and strawberries and cutting them up into store-bought Sangria. Hers was immeasurably better.

She glanced at me before pouring into a goblet. She had one of her own she was already sipping at. Her hair was perfectly arranged, flowing down her back in a mass of fire. In better days I couldn't wait to get her on the floor, bury my face in it and run my hands through it. 

She wore a tight, low cut dress that showed her breasts tucked into a tight top, dropping to a waist clinging mid-section. I knew when she stepped out her ass would perform a symphony. She had it all - tits, waist, great ass and legs that went all the way down and up to heaven. She knew it and she was loaded for bear.

She stepped into the den carrying the two drinks. I took one and walked over to the couch. She started to sit next to me and I gestured to the love seat nearby. She knew. She knew, then sat down gracefully.

We drank the Sangria. I did love it.

"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?" she asked finally.

"You know."

"I don't."

"Are you going to treat me like a complete idiot? You're going to insult me on top of everything else?"

"I've been going crazy all day trying to figure out what happened between yesterday morning when you said goodbye and you loved me and last night when you walked through the door and you hated me."

"I'd give you credit if you'd at least be honest, Rox."

"I'd be honest if I knew what you were talking about." 

She was almost crying.

"Okay," I said, sighing. This was probably the hardest thing I was ever going to have to do in my life. At least the most painful.

"I know about you and Robert Anderson."

She had known it was coming, but it still shook her. Her ruddy complexion paled and she couldn't look me in the eye.

"Me...and Robert Anderson. The...anchorman at Channel 4?"

I started to lose it.

"Oh, for God's sake, you bitch, stop pretending. You know damn well who he is. He's the guy you've been fucking and sucking for six months. He's the guy you spent the weekend with three weeks ago before you came home all smiles and telling me how much you loved me."

I couldn't keep still and sit. I was on my feet and I didn't realize I'd made my hands into fists until she cringed backward with an expression on her face I'd never seen before. Then again, she'd never seen me so close to losing control.

I grabbed her by that glorious mane of auburn hair and squeezed and for the first time in our lives together I didn't care about the pain that flashed across her face.

"He's the man that you threw our marriage away for, Rox. He's the man that killed us. There is no us anymore. I hope he's going to make you happy, or someone else will, because I don't expect to ever see you again after tonight."

"Tommy, don't! Please! You're hurting me! Let go!"

I almost threw her back into the chair. I made myself back away from her, made myself open my fists. I had frightened myself. I hated her, but I'd never forgive myself if I hurt her in a blind rage.

I knelt down beside her and lowered my voice.

"Just be honest with me, Rox. We were married for eight years. I loved you. Don't I deserve some honesty at the end? Just tell me!"

"I don't know what people have told you. It's not true. If you saw the tape, I know it looked bad. But it didn't mean I was having sex with him. I've fantasized about him. He's a gorgeous guy. But other than a kiss on the cheek, he's never touched me, and I don't know who spread lies about that seminar in Atlanta. But I can prove I attended the meetings. I wasn't with Robert.

For a minute I couldn't see her for the tears that filled my eyes. Even now she couldn't be honest. This was how it was going to end. With lies upon lies.

I stood up and backed away from her. I couldn't touch her again.

I took the mini-recorder out of my pocket and hit 'play'.

"When they tell you they wanted to meet to tell you they won't have sex with you, you can bet you're going to fuck them. We made it as far as my car before she went down on me and she was - great, but you already know that. We drove to a park and it was mid day so it was empty. I put the seat back and she got on top. Shit, she was something else."

She looked at me and I saw those brown eyes fill with tears. She looked as though a doctor had given her a death sentence.

"I'm going to go out for a few hours. Don't be here when I come back. I honestly can't promise you that I won't hurt you if I see you again tonight."

I walked out with the sounds of her crying and calling my name behind me.

When I came back she was gone. She'd taken two suitcases and emptied most of her clothes out of her closets. She had taken my threat seriously. Thank God!

I stood in the center of what had been our home and was now the condo I lived in. 

I wanted to curl up in a ball in a corner like a little kid and cry, but I made myself go into the guest bedroom, set the alarm for early, take off my clothes and drop onto the bed. 

Again, I thought I'd never be able to sleep, but it was as if it offered me an escape and somehow in no time I was asleep.

I woke up on Saturday and, even though I didn't need to, I went into the station. I called a lawyer friend and got the name of a good divorce attorney. About 6 p.m. Bobby called me on my cell and bugged me until I agreed to go by his house and have a drink and a steak grilled outside.

The invitation was for Rox and me. I didn't tell him anything over the phone but when I walked in he and Carol took one look at me and started treating me like I'd just survived a terrible car crash. And maybe I had. There was no point in keeping it a secret. I told them and watched the looks that came over their faces. It was like when a friend tells you that he's got incurable lung cancer.

"Are you sure?" Carol asked.

"Very sure."

"Couldn't you....there is always counseling. You guys were so great together. You can't just let it end like this."

"I didn't! She did, Carol! She killed it and maybe me, for all I know. I need to be tested for STDs. He's such a pig there's no telling what he picked up and passed on to her and her to me. Even if there is nothing, I'm operating on autopilot. I feel like she ripped my heart out and took it with her when she left."

She folded her arms around me and for awhile I just enjoyed the smell and feel a woman holding me.

Later Bobby confessed to a furious Carol that he had been the one who told me about Rox's words that had blown up my world. Carol was about to rip into him when I stopped her.




Slip of the Tongue



All characters are 18 years or older. This story is in no way designed to be considered a realistic scenario; just one that is fun to consider. Hope you enjoy... 

***** 

It was a Tuesday in April, and for Andy and Rachel O'Brien, sex was everywhere. 

Poor, poor Little Andy, as he was so commonly called. It was just one of those days that for a young virgin like him, proved to be torture on a new scale. 

It began in Trigonometry when the air conditioning failed and he became suddenly aware of the beads of sweat cumulating on the tight chests and slender necks of his more delicate classmates. 

His temperature figuratively rose in Biology when much to his dismay they discussed in great detail the act of procreation. While others giggled or nodded, he felt his skin flush with blood as the teacher skillfully demonstrated the application of a condom by rolling one down a banana. 

Homework was assigned and led him to the library where he found the required text which described, with full visuals, the anatomy of a woman. His eyes traveled over the clinical illustrations, his middle finger hovering over the opened lips of a vagina within the flattened pages of the text book. Little Andy's mind flew away, lost in wonder at how it must feel. Although it was pure imagination, this was the closest he had ever been to a woman's privates that he could recall. 

As this thought crossed his mind, a student rushed by and bumped into Andy, knocking the book out of his hands. It toppled to the floor, landing face down as the kid ran on muttering his apologies. Andy cursed under his breath, his cheeks glowing red as he bent a knee to retrieve the fallen text, when suddenly he looked up and the air left his lungs. 

There, not ten feet from him, the School's Librarian sat at a table reviewing a large stack of papers. She adjusted her glasses, unaware of Little Andy and his lustful stare. This served Andy well, for his eyes were not settled on what she was doing above the table, but were more fixated below. 

Her legs were spread, not wide, but enough for Little Andy to peer between. Her knee-high skirt was pulled tight allowing his vision to slide past the hems of her stockings, beyond the milky-white skin of her thighs, up to a black set of panties holding firmly to her mound. 

His pulse quickened as he crouched there hypnotized by her unknowing display. He wished he could inch closer. He wanted to reach out, smell her, touch her, taste her, experience her. But it did not last long for not a moment later, she fidgeted and crossed her legs; barring her lewd display from his curiously lecherous gaze. 

With a quiet sense of defeat, he shook his head and stood; immediately hearing soft whispers and snickers near him once more. Gazing beside him he saw two girls laughing quietly behind an open book, stealing glances to his groin. He looked down; a look of horror washing over his face as he found a fierce erection tenting out the front of his jeans. He let out a whimper and ran out of the room hiding his embarrassment behind his biology book. 

He flew down the halls and into the restroom, diving into a stall and locking it firmly behind him. 

"Dammit Andy!" he cried to himself, eyes filling with tears as he sat on the seat. 

Not a second passed after he sat when the door opened again, followed by the sound of shuffling echoing through the space. He heard a deep groan, then a soft girlish giggle. 

"We have to hurry," a girl's voice said in between the sounds of smacking. "Come on, I need it." 

"Coach will kill me," a deeper voice said. It sounded like that of Mike Robertson, the starting quarterback for the school's football team. That would be weird though because everyone knew that he was dating Kelly Matthews and that didn't sound like... 

"Well then hurry up before we get caught." She almost growled at him. "No one's in here. Just fuck me already!" 

Andy heart stopped in his chest as he pulled his feet up onto the seat as he wiped his nose. 

"You sure?" 

"Yeah, see!" 

Silence filled the room. 

"Okay but get in the stall," Mike said as a loud SMACK echoed off the walls. 

"AH!" the girl cried out as she laughed and ran closer to Andy's location. "I'd ask you to smack my ass again, but right now I just want your cock!" as she pulled open the door... to the stall right next to him. 

Andy watched the flimsy wall shake as they slammed and locked the door behind them. 

"Fuck you're hard!" he heard her purr as Mike moaned deeply. 

The sound of clothing being ruffled then zippers drawn came next, followed by another chorus of moans, then: 

"Do you want to put that inside me?" the girl cooed. 

"Mmmmm fuck yeah," Mike groaned. 

"I want to put something on it first." 

"Ah, come on." 

"Mm-Mmm. You want me, you need to wear it." 

A groan of defeat. 

"All right, but you do it." 

Andy could hear a tiny something tear, and then watched as a small shiny packet flopped down beneath the wall. 

"There you go big boy. Now, panties on or off?" 

"Off!" Mike groaned. A moment later a small red thong fell onto the tile floor near him. 

"Now get over here and fuck me!" 

"Holy shit!" Andy thought. 

"Holy shit!" Mike cried as the girl let out a deep moan and her fingers appeared at the top of the wall, grasping for support. 

"Fuck you feel good!" she cried as their bodies slapped together. 

Andy's pulse began thundering in his ears. His erection had reached new heights yet he was too scared to pull it out into the open. 

"Just block it out," he thought. "Think of a song. Think of a song. Think-think-think!" 

All that came to him were the muffled sounds of restrained groans as the naughty duo the next stall over began shaking the walls. 

"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" the girl cried over and over as Andy watched her pretty pink nails attempt to dig into the top of the stall. 

"Argh!" Mike bellowed as he plowed into her over and over. 

"What position are they even in?" Andy wondered looking at the shaking walls, when suddenly, he leaned too far, his foot slipping off the toilet seat causing him to fall face first on the tile floor. 

"What the fuck!" Mike bellowed as the girl let out a scream. 

Andy, eyes dazed and head spinning, attempted to push himself up when suddenly two strong hands grabbed his shoulders beneath the stall door and slid him right out into the open bathroom. 

"Wha..." he began as he was suddenly rolled over catching a furious, and pant-less Mike, dead in the eyes. 

"That fucking pervert!" a girl screamed catching Andy's attention. Behind Mike stood a half naked Tina Robertson, her eyes brimming with tears. 

Andy's eyes narrowed. 

"Is... Is that your sister?" he asked, head tilted. 

Mike's jaw clenched. "You son of a bitch," he said as he raised his fist. 

"Wait! Wait!" Andy cried, raising his hands in front of him "I can explain!" he stammered before his eyes settled on the tiny red thong, snagged upon his right hand. His eyes widened in horror. 

"Oh fuck," he said. 

The last thing he saw was Mike's fist approaching his face before poor Little Andy blacked out. 

As for his mother... 

Across town Rachel O'Brien was just getting off, though not with the same meaning as the Robertson siblings. It had been a long and torturous ten hour shift at the Hamilton Medical Center and she was dying to get home and out of her scrubs. Her feet were killing her, her body ached, but worse was the constant jibber jabber from the younger nurses talking about who they just slept with or their plans of conquest that evening. 

At first she'd watch them converse with envy, mentally reliving the wilds of her youth. She'd laugh, and smile, and wish to be in their shoes for a day. Then, ever so slowly, reality would creep back in and she'd turn and walk away, shoving her needs down deep inside. 

But now, finally, her shift was done and she was homeward bound. 

It was her time now. Nothing would keep her down for in less than thirty minutes she'd be home alone with her new steamy novel and a hot bath. At least that was the plan. 

It's funny how a series of little things can shift one's mood so dramatically. 

It happened first on the subway. The couple across from her were trying secretly to please each other, running their hands beneath hemlines and waistlines. 

Next came the couple in the apartment across the hall from hers. As Rachel walked by, the man had his lover pinned with her back against the hallway wall. Their lips embraced in a passionate kiss. Rachel tried to avert her eyes; her hand shaking as she slid the key into the lock. Quickly and quietly, she slipped inside her apartment and leaned back against the door. 

"Finally," she breathed, eyes closed as she took in the familiar sounds and smells of her small apartment. 

As if routine, she tossed her coat on the coat rack, her purse on a side table and veered straight for her room. 

The blinds where half drawn; spilling in light that pierced the space with rays of dancing dust motes. The bed was unmade and a pile of laundry sat in the corner that she knew someday she'd have time to do. She shed her pants, top, then bra; adding them to the top of the fabric mountain. 

She crossed her cluttered room wearing just her panties and went to the closet. Beside it was the only end table that appeared to be clean. Atop it sat a single picture well dusted. She kissed her fingers then brought them down to the soldier standing proudly in the frame. Rachel smiled, her eyes starting to shimmer, and she opened the closet door. On the right were a collection of empty hangers all upon the rod; the pile of clothes filling and hiding the hamper suggested their whereabouts. Yet Rachel instead reached to the left where neatly pressed and well kept men's shirts all draped in cellophane, hung in an orderly fashion. 

Gently she selected a dress shirt, light blue with a straight point collar and removed the wrapping. Her fingers gingerly traced the fabric. Rachel unbuttoned the shirt and laid it out on the bed. Reaching into her nightstand, she removed a nearly empty bottle of men's cologne. She puffed one blast of the fragrance into the air, allowing the tiny fluttering droplets to shower onto the fabric. 

Tucking the bottle back into the drawer, she slipped the shirt on, never bothering with the buttons and crawled onto the bed and rolled onto her back. 

Her eyes were shut, lost in memory, as she deeply inhaled the scent from the fabric. Her bare thighs rubbed together, her breathing deepened, and the tips of her breasts hardened, thrusting out against the shirt she cherished. 

A sigh escaped her lips, yet she heard a moan. Her eyes slowly opened. Was that her? 

The sound came again, this time louder, more pronounced. 

Rachel's eyes shifted to the wooden blinds gently tapping against the window as they settled from a soft breeze. The window behind them was cracked open, only a few inches but it was enough to let the sultry sound of a woman lost in pleasure creep through the opening. 

She rose, curiosity causing her to tip-toe to the window and peer through to the apartment across the alley. Instantly her body tensed, washed in a warm wave of sensations as she locked onto the cause of the lustful noise. 

Through the open window across the alley sat a woman in a chaise lounge. Rachel had seen her several times before; walking on the streets or around town, she couldn't recall. She appeared to be of similar age, attractive and well proportioned one might say. She was always well kept and fashionable, not a hair ever out of place. Yet here she was, legs spread wide with a young man's lips latched firmly on her womanhood. 

Rachel gasped, her nipples instantly hard and tight as the woman grabbed the young man's dark brown hair and forced him against her, gyrating her hips to his oral attack. The woman ran her free hand through her own brown hair, stretching her neck out as his free hands reached up and toyed with her breasts through her blouse. 

He lashed at her clit, tongue flittering and swirling. The woman cried out, shrieked even, and continued to rock her hips. 

"Oh shit," Rachel breathed as her hand absently traveled across her navel, down over her panties to her soaking mound. Her eyes never left the couple as she pressed a finger against herself, feeling her panties moisten as they sunk between her lower lips. 

Her body felt on fire, the day's torment leading to this moment as she peered through the safety of the blinds. Her pussy was gushing, aching to be pleased. She bit her lip and pinched her nipple, basking in the wave of pleasure that coursed through her. 

She watched them catch each other's eyes. The woman smirked and her lips moved, speaking in words that were lost in the open air. The young man smiled and rose up, standing between her bare legs. His crotch was tented out in front of him, sporting a very promising hard on hidden behind the zipper of his jeans. 

His head was out of frame, but Rachel could still watch the woman who smiled and looked up at him, her hands pointing to her blouse. The woman shrugged, then with a mischievous smile, unbuttoned her top and discarded the cloth leaving herself in nothing but a black silk bra. Rachel couldn't help admiring the woman's curves let alone her choice in wardrobe which complimented her tight tanned skin. 

The man leaned down, kissing the seated woman as his right hand groped her covered breasts. She, in turn, reached out to his jeans and blindly ripped his belt free. He leaned back, both now laughing as she eagerly unwrapped her "package". 

A gasp escaped Rachel's lips as the young man's hard penis bobbed into view. 

"That lucky bitch," she whispered as she began to press firmly against her mound, her middle finger teasing the hood of her clit through her panties. 

The woman opened her mouth in mock surprise then pushed his pants and underwear down to his ankles. Slowly, she trailed her hands, fingertips tickling the skin, up his legs until her hands circled around the base of his cock. 

She kept her gaze up, never breaking focus as she spoke to him, teasing him while one hand snaked between his legs and the other began to slowly slip up the tight skin of his erection. Slowly she pumped his cock, squeezing the precum from the tip that trickled down the dry skin. Her thumb and forefinger slid up to the ridge of his head, squeezed, then began their torturous journey back to his base, each time extracting a loud groan. 

"Oh Mom!" he cried, loud enough for their voyeur to hear. 

Rachel's eyes snapped wide open. 

"Oh my god!" she said, her focus locked on the couple whose relationship just turned taboo. "They're... Oh my god!" 

She was shocked, disgusted even, yet try as she might she couldn't tear her eyes away. It was wrong, dirty, and so very immoral. What was worse, she found her breath now more labored, her skin growing tighter and her pussy suddenly on fire. 

The woman smiled, pursed her lips and planted a single kiss atop his crown. 

"She kissed her son's penis," she whispered, her hands now moving again, fingers rubbing deep into her panties. "She kissed his cock. She... she..." 

And the woman did it again, and again, and again once more. She slid off the chaise lounge, sinking to her knees in front of her son while slowly trailing these taboo kisses along the side of his shaft. Once at the base, she looked up and extended her tongue, stretching it to his skin. 

"You dirty slut," Rachel breathed as she watched the mother lick the length of her son's cock. 

The woman then hovered in front her son's erection, lips pulled in a wicked grin. Rachel watched him step closer, rubbing his cock head against her lips and cheek. The woman laughed, feigning to bite his cock, yet he did not move. She examined his penis, then opened her mouth and looked up. 

"... Do it," Rachel whispered. As if she had heard, the mother leaned forward and slipped the head of his penis between her lips. 

The son and Rachel moaned in unison as the mother began to suck. 

This was not her first rodeo, Rachel noticed as the mother expertly performed fellatio on her son. She sucked and licked, twisted and pulled. Grabbed his ass and forced him into the depths of her throat, all without a single sign of resistance. 

"Oh you fucking slut!" Rachel said, "You're sucking your son!" Her legs were getting weak as she attacked her pussy, her other hand had slipped into her shirt and was attacking her own bare breast. 

Suddenly, she watched the son grab the mother and pull her up. They embraced, his hard, wet cock rubbing against her stomach as the kissed. Then, just like that, he pulled her by the arm and they ran from frame. 

"No!" Rachel cried out, holding on to the wall and scanning all the windows. "No come back!" 

They were nowhere to be seen. 

"Dammit!" she roared in lustful frustration as she fell back on the bed, her breasts spilling out of the unbuttoned shirt. Rachel balled her fist and struck it down on the mattress, out of breath and unfulfilled. 

She let out a deep sigh and allowed her eyes to travel down, down between the valley of her exposed cleavage to her bare thighs and long legs rubbing together and begging for attention. 

"Fuck it," she thought as she grabbed her tit and plunged her other hand deep into her panties, fingers locking onto the tiny nub of her clit. 

"Oh my god, I'm so wet!" she breathed as she slid her middle finger around the pearl. Her hips started to shake, her hand now soaking in her juices as she reached just an inch further and sank her own finger deep within her pussy. 

"Mom?" came a voice, calling from her doorway. 

Rachel's eyes snapped open and she quickly sat up to see her son, Andy, standing wide eyed in the dim hallway, his face as flushed as her body. 

"Andy!" her voice croaked; mixed with fear, frustration, and anger, trying desperately to cover up. "Wha... What are you doing home? Why aren't you at school?" 

"They sent me home," he said trying to avert his eyes. "Sorry, I'll... I'll just..." He held up his hand producing a semi-crumpled letter. "You're supposed to sign this." 

Rachel groaned in frustration, her hand covering her forehead. She took a deep breath, looked up as she pinched her shirt closed and reached out a hand. 

"Bring it here," she said sternly. 

Andy crossed the room and placed the paper in her hands. 

Rachel's eyes went wide. 

"Andy! What happened to your face?" 

He fidgeted, looking back down, hiding his bruised eye. 

"It's nothing," he mumbled. 

"That is not nothing." 

Andy shrugged. 

"I got into a fight, I guess." 

"You guess?!" 

"Yeah. Kinda'." 

"Kinda' what? Andy O'Brien, spit it out!" 

"Look I don't want to talk about it." 

"Well I do, Mister, so what the hell happened?" 

"Mom, I said-" 

"Andy I swear to God I will count to Three." 

"Mom, I'm not a kid anymore." 

Rachel's eyes narrowed. 

"One..." 

"Are you serious? Mom you can't treat me..." 

"Two..." 

"Mom! I don't want..." 

"Thr-" 

Andy threw his arms in the air. 

"All right! Look, it wasn't my fault! I've had a really rough day so can you just ground me or whatever please, because this is bullshit!" 

As soon as Andy looked into the fury behind his mother's eyes he knew he had chosen the wrong thing to say. 

Rachel clenched her jaw. 

"Go to your room right this minute. I don't want to hear a god damn sound come from there until I decide what to do with you. Got it?" 

The color drained from Andy's face. Looking down, he nodded and slipped out of the room. A moment later the sound of his door closing echoed down the hall. 

Rachel fell back onto the bed staring straight up at the ceiling. Her panties still damp, her body still afire, though now a mix between anger and lust. She balled her fist and began banging it against the mattress. 




Slip of the Tongue



"Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!" She growled each time. "Can I just have a minute for me? Is that too much to ask?" 

As if on cue, the climatic cries of a woman in orgasm drifted through the blinds. 

Rachel glared at the window and flipped it the "bird". 

It took a moment for the world to settle back down, and for Rachel a moment longer. 

She took a deep breath, looked over to the nightstand and retrieved her cellphone. She tapped a button on the glowing screen then placed the device to her ear. 

"Hello? Rachel?" a filtered voice spoke. 

Rachel sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. 

"Hi Momma." 

"Hi Honey," her mother said, catching her breath. 

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" 

"No, not at all. Just working on my cardio. Haven't heard from you in a while." 

"... Yeah, I just figured check in. You know, see how you're doing." 

"Honey, you never call to check in like that. What's going on?" Her mother asked. "Is it boy trouble?" 

Rachel let out a laugh. 

"I wish. That would be nice right now." 

"I see..." Her mother was silent for a moment. "Is this about Charles?" 

Hearing his name sent a chill through her body. Rachel's eyes turned to the framed soldier across the room. 

"No... Not really." Her voice was soft. 

"Honey, it's okay if it is. It's only been a few years since-" 

"It's not about Charles," Rachel interrupted. "It's Andy." 

"Oh? And what is my grandson up to now-a-days?" 

"Well... Today your grandson got in a fight at school." 

"He did not." 

"He did so." 

"My goodness," Rachel's mother began. "That is so unlike him." 

"Is it though? He's been a real shit as of late. Always moping around, never helps around the house, stays in his room all day, hell I don't even know who he is any more. How am I to say that getting in fights would not be out of character for him?" 

"Rachel, you don't mean that. You've both just been through a lot the last few years; you're probably still just figuring stuff out." 

Rachel sighed. 

"I don't know Mom." 

"Okay then, what about his friends? Anything seem weird there?" 

Rachel shook her head, even though her mother couldn't see. 

"No... still the same nerdy little kids from grade school." 

"Well, what about girls? He's of that age where he's probably trying to figure them out." 

"He's never been one to chase skirts if that is what you are implying. Actually, I don't think he's ever had a girlfriend come to think of it." 

"Really?" her mother asked. "He's about to graduate and he's never had girlfriend." 

Rachel shrugged. 

"Maybe he's got some mystery girl somewhere but it's not something we really talk about." 

"That's got to be rough on him..." 

"I guess." Rachel fidgeted with the collar of her shirt. "Any advice?" 

Her mother sighed. 

"Honey, it's tough to say. I mean on one hand you have this teenage boy whose hormones are probably going crazy. He's trying to figure things out but at the same time, needs a little structure. With no father figure around, that falls to you. I mean, he's going to act out and push limits just to see what you'll do and what he can get away with. The best thing you can do is call him on his bullshit." 

"You make him sound like a deviant," Rachel said. 

"And we both know he's not. He's still your little boy on the inside." 

Rachel smiled. "I guess that's true, only he's not so little anymore." 

"I bet he isn't," her mom laughed. Suddenly, on her line there was a loud SMACK and Rachel thought she heard her mother giggle. 

"Mom? Are you there?" 

"Mm-hmm," Her mother responded; her voice a little out of breath. "Sorry, your father just startled me." 

"Oh," Rachel said. "Dad's there?" 

"Of course. Did you want to speak with him?" 

"No that's okay..." 

"Great! Here he is," Her mother said, then in hushed tones. "Shhhh, it's your daughter." 

"H-Hello? Rachel?" 

Rachel rolled her eyes. 

"Hi Daddy." 

"Hi, Baby Girl. What's up?" His voice was lower than normal, with a deep timber as if rolling over gravel. 

"Nothing much. Just called to chat..." 

Her dad groaned slightly, followed by a shushing sound and more giggles. 

"Dad?" 

"I'm here! I'm here! Your mother just distracted me for a moment." 

Rachel pulled the phone from her ear raising an eyebrow. In the background she heard her mother's soft voice moan. 

"Oh my god... Dad, are you and Mom..." her voice failed her. 

Her father groaned again... deeper and louder. 

"Sorry Baby Girl. Your mother's a better poker player then me. We're gonna go." 

And with that the line went dead; leaving Rachel staring at her phone is utter shock. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she growled. 

Poor Rachel rolled over, grabbed her pillow and screamed into it until her throat burned. This day of torture seemed to have no end, and now has turned to mockery. 

Somehow, somewhere within the deep recesses of her willpower, she rose, sitting up straight in bed shaking her head. Her eyes caught her reflection in a large framed floor length mirror. She stood, walked slowly to the mirror and took a good look at herself. 

"Jesus, I look a mess," she thought. Even though it was her opinion, it wasn't necessarily accurate. 

Her deep red hair was disheveled, coming free of the barrettes. Her face was still flushed and her lips seemed just a tad fuller, though they had always seemed pouty to many. 

The shirt had fallen open again, leaving one of her breasts exposed while the other tried desperately to rip through the fabric, nipple first. Casually, she ran her hand down her chest, fingers bumping over her pink, sensitive tips. 

She watched her reflection as her hand passed her tits, trailing along the pale skin of her stomach; the shade of which reminded her she should get some sun soon, and maybe get back to yoga as well. But that was neither here nor there she thought, as her eyes settled on her poor, abused panties covering her poor, neglected kitty. 

"Oh these things have to go," she thought as she pulled the waist forward and peered down at her pelvis, lightly coated with trimmed pubic hair. The fabric was now loose and still moist with her daylong excitement. Her thumbs hooked into the waist and she quickly shed the garment, tossing the used panties near the overflowing laundry hamper. She retrieved a clean set from her dresser and pulled them on, catching her reflection as she changed. 

With her back to the mirror, and the new panties sliding up, she couldn't help but admire her long legs and her still firm ass. That thought at least brought a smile to her face as she winked to herself and wiggled her butt in the mirror. With a laugh, she smacked a cheek and walked out of her room, grabbing the crumbled paper on her way. 

She went to the fridge, grabbed a can of soda and sank into the chair at the table. 

"What am I going to do with him?" she thought staring at the suspension notice. 

She signed the paper, pushed it away then leaned back in her chair with crossed arms. With a deep sigh Rachel looked around the room. 

Meanwhile... 

"This day couldn't possibly get any worse," Andy thought as he lay atop his bed, feet crossed and staring at the ceiling. 

His stomach was in knots. Nervous for the punishment to come and even more terrified at the thoughts he couldn't get out of his mind. 

The day was tough, suspension aside. The visual stimuli from his classmates, that was normal. Getting an eyeful of the Librarian's lady garments, it was nice and he'll get over it. Hell, even the sibling quickie right beside him was something he'd get over in time. What concerned him the most was the image of his mother, perfect breasts exposed and her hand in her panties writhing on her bed as she fingered herself. No matter how hard he tried not to, he'd see her there, gasping and moaning every time he shut his eyes. 

His biggest concern after all of that was he had been hard ever since. 

Andy's eyes looked down to his swollen crotch. 

"No," he told his groin, but instantly a vision of his mother flashed into his head again. His cock flinched in response. 

"This is so fucking sick," he said as he covered his face with his pillow. 

Just then, a light rapping came from his door. 

"Andy?" his mother's voice called softly from the other side. 

"I don't wanna talk," Andy replied sternly. 

"Andy don't be ridiculous," she responded. "Look, I'm coming in." 

"Mom! Wait!" he started quickly scooting back on his bed and tossing the pillow to his lap; hiding the evidence of his excitement. 

His mother entered the room and Andy's eyes instantly traversed her body. Her panties were new, and the button up shirt was at least buttoned up; but still, why wasn't she wearing more? 

Slowly, she crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, looking upon him with a motherly gaze. 

"How's your face feeling?" 

Andy looked at her eyes, then away. 

"... It's fine. My lip stings a little," he said. 

She nodded. 

"I'm sure it does." Her hand reached out and lifted his chin. He flinched but didn't push her away. His looked up to her. 

"I'm sorry for earlier. It's been a tough day for me, and a tough couple years since your dad died and... and I guess I was just embarrassed and... Well I'm sorry for yelling at you." 

Andy took a breath. 

"I'm sorry too. It's been a weird one for me." 

"Care to talk about it?" Rachel asked. "I'd still like to know why you got in a fight." 

Her son looked away. 

"I... it... look it was just a misunderstanding. I didn't really get in a fight. I just got punched around a bit." 

Concern washed across his mother's face. 

"Punched around?" 

Andy nodded. 

"Yeah, I was in the bathroom stall and this guy and his... girlfriend came in and started... Look Mom this is a little weird to talk about." 

Rachel put her hand on his knee, unaware of his throbbing member not two feet from her hand. 

"Andy, it's me. You can tell me anything." 

"Yeah, but we don't really talk about these things," he said. 

Rachel's eyes narrowed. "Were they having sex?" 

Andy looked down and nodded. 

"Wow, in the men's restroom?" 

Andy nodded again. 

"In the stall next to me," he said. 

His mother laughed. 

"It's not funny, Mom!" 

Rachel tried to compose herself. 

"I'm sorry, Honey. That must have been so uncomfortable. Did they even know you were there?" 

"No... but when they found out, the guy kinda got upset and..." Andy waved his hand in front of his bruised face. 

"I see," his mother said. "So that was it? That wasn't so bad." 

"Mom! It was incredibly awkward. I mean they were doing it right next to me. And they were... you wouldn't understand," he ranted. 

Visions of the incestuous couple across the alley suddenly flashed before Rachel's eyes. 

"Well Andy, I do have some idea," she began, "But between the two of us, I should be the one feeling awkward." 

"Why?" he asked, then his face suddenly reddened. "Oh, that." Visions of his self pleasuring mother flashed in his own mind's eye. "Don't worry, I didn't see anything." 

Rachel chuckled. "I doubt that, but it's sweet of you to say." 

She straightened, clearing her throat. "So, you saw me in an intimate moment. I can't take it back, it happened, and we will move past it." 

Andy cleared his throat. "Okay." 

A smile crossed her lips. "Good. Promise me it won't be weird between us?" 

"I'll try," Andy started, "But Mom, you're still practically in just your underwear." 

Rachel looked down at her attire. 

"You're right. I was just trying to get comfortable after a long shift but I'll put something more on if it makes you uncomfortable." 

"No!" he said, perhaps with a little too much urgency. 

She raised an eyebrow. "Alright then, I won't." 

With that she hopped off the bed. 

"Okay now, get up. You and I have work to do." 

Andy looked up, confusion on his face. "Wait, what?" 

"Get up. We are turning over a new leaf starting right this instant." 

Her son shifted in the bed, his erection finally having softened. 

"Okay," he began, "and how do you plan on doing that?" 

Rachel beamed. 

"We..." she said. "... Are going to get this place straightened out." 

"What? My room?" 

"Nope." Rachel shook her head. "The apartment." 

A look of disbelief crossed his face. "You serious?" 

His mother nodded. 

"We are going to get our lives in order and start with a clean slate. We both live here, we are both adults now." She swatted his leg. "Come on, it will feel much better once we are done," his mother said as she turned and hurried out the door, unaware of Andy's eyes locking on to her perfect ass swaying on the way out. 

"I'm not so sure about that," he mumbled to himself as he felt the stirring in his loins once more. 

As soon as they started though, Andy began to feel different. They started in the living room, cleaning up the papers, both schoolwork and mail, then any book, magazine, or even blanket that was out of place. They chatted and joked as if the events of the day had never transpired. It was work, but for some reason, fun; which was exactly what they needed. 

Once the floors were vacuumed, they next tackled Andy's room. They maintained their high morale and even took down some of the posters on the wall, as he felt he had now outgrown them. Rachel, for her part, was nothing but supportive and even tried to look the other way when she spotted curious stains on Andy's bed sheets. She just casually suggested that while she finishes up his room, he starts the laundry. Andy agreed and gathered all of the soiled garments and the sheets, tossed them in the hamper, and headed to his mother's room. 

He didn't think much of it as he started to gather together her dirty clothes, quickly sorting them into various piles before putting them back in the hamper. All was going well until he found a familiar set of panties. 

They were laying right there, on the floor not two feet from him. He recognized them the moment he saw them, or at least hoped for some dark reason that they were indeed that naughty pair; the very garment his mother was wearing while she pleasured herself. 

He reached out his hand, surprised to see it shaking as he picked up the fabric, finding it still slightly damp. Instantly his blood raced and his stomach tightened. 

"Oh God," he whispered finding himself bringing them closer for inspection, up until that moment when her scent hit his nostrils. 

"Andy?" his mother called from his room, startling him from his thoughts as he shoved her panties into his pocket. 

"I'm going to work on the kitchen," she continued. "Can you help me once you've started the laundry?" 

"Sure Mom," his voice croaked. "I'm almost done here." 

He heard her bare footsteps retreating down the hall and exhaled deeply; finding his erection, once more begging to be relieved. He cursed at himself, gathered up the laundry and tossed them in the hallway washing machine before he adjusted himself. 

"Think of baseball. Think of grandma. Think of algebra..." he muttered trying to coax his throbbing member away as he headed to the kitchen. 

"... Think of Jupiter. Think of chess. Think of anything, dammit!" he whispered until he turned the corner; and then all his hopes were dashed. 

There his mother stood with her back to him, her long bare legs leading up to her heart shaped, panty clad rear; the cheeks barely peeking out from the bottom of his dad's dress shirt. The arms where rolled up and her hair in a quick made bun. Her hands were out of sight, deep in the soapy water that filled the sink. 

He knew it would be a long night. 

Rachel, in the meantime, had heard him come in. She could see his reflection in the glass of the cabinet just staring at her. 

"Why that sneaky little shit. Is he looking at my ass? He is!" she thought as goosebumps suddenly rippled across her flesh. She tried to hide her smirk as her bare feet fidgeted on the lush kitchen mat, knowing very well that the action would make her bottom flex for his eyes. 

Suddenly she stopped, "What am I doing?" she thought as a wave of guilt rocked her. "Teasing my son? Jesus that's bad." 

Rachel looked over her shoulder. 

"Hi Honey," she said, snapping her son out his trance. "You're just in time." 

His face blushed but Rachel said not a word. Together they turned to the kitchen, spirits raised once again. The pots and plates and cutlery had never been so clean as they joyously tackled the room. They laughed, even joked around by splashing water or cracking each other with the ends of their towels. It was just what they needed. 

Under the surface though, whether it was Andy stealing glances at the beads of water that rolled down her neck to the valley of her chest, or Rachel's sudden growing curiosity in the bulge of her son's trousers, they both couldn't help but notice the electricity in the air. He was mesmerized by how her ass flinched when he cracked it with the towel, and she in turn found a secret thrill in pressing back against him when he would reach around her body. He never saw her biting her lip but she was deadly aware of each and every time their arms brushed together. 

Her body was hungry and his was about to burst, and then suddenly, the kitchen was spotless. 

Andy turned to his mother, noticing two tiny bumps on her chest pressing against his father's shirt. 

"So Mom," he panted, throwing a dishrag over his shoulder. "What's next?" he asked, hands on hips. 

Her eyes glanced down, but whipped back up hoping he didn't catch her moment of weakness. 

"Um... Just dusting," she said, her cheeks flushed. 

They armed themselves with rags and cleaner, both now going separate ways and working in silence. 

"What am I doing?" Andy thought as he kept stealing glances at his mother across the room. 

"What am I doing?" Rachel thought as she allowed his glances to continue unpunished. 

This was the game they played. Each self-chastising; yet doing nothing to change the actions led by their lustful subconscious. Andy would look and she would know, yet each time said nothing. She found herself growing more and more excited with each glance. It frightened Rachel, angered her even, but still she made no move to put an end to it. But then again... 

"He is starting to look so much like his father," she thought as she bit her lip. 

Andy watched, eyes glued and unwavering as his mother wiped down the table. She leaned down, bending at the waist causing her shirt to rise up over her cheeks. 

"He used to love it when I would tease him like this. He would... Dammit!" She screamed in her mind as she quickly adjusted. "What the fuck am I doing? This isn't how a mother is supposed to behave." 

Just at that moment, the moans from their neighbor across the alley drifted in through an open window. 

They stopped dead in their tracks; Andy's ears perking at the sound while Rachel's cheeks blushed knowing the depths of the sin within each moan. 

"God I hate that woman," Rachel whispered through gritted teeth as she crossed the room and slammed the window shut. 

She turned to her son who was wide eyed and suppressing a laugh. 

"Sorry," he chuckled. "I opened them when it was getting a bit stuffy in here." 

She waved it off. 

"Let's just finish up," she said, trying to block out his gaze that was causing a stirring in her quim. 

Andy returned to his task when a moment later he heard a small clutter and his mother curse. He turned to find her on all fours facing away from him. Her head was down, eyes focused under the couch yet her ass was sticking straight up in the air, allowing him a full, unobstructed view of her rear. 

"Wow, Mom..." he said though she heard it as a question. 




Slip of the Tongue



"I knocked my phone off the counter and it slid under the couch," she said as she stretched an arm beneath the sofa. 

Her son said nothing, slowly stepping closer as he watched her shift her hips to the right and left. Her panties were straining tight against her, and for the first time he could see the outline of her mound and the darkened fabric pressing tightly against her privates. 

The silence caused Rachel to stop. From the corner of her eye, she could see her son staring at her. He showed no sign of modesty nor attempted to mask it in any way. 

"That little pervert," she thought. "Is he really not even going to hide it? He's just staring at my ass and..." Her position caused her breath to catch in her throat. "... he can probably see my... my..." Rachel could suddenly feel her pussy quiver, dampening her panties before her son's eyes. 

She bit her lip, this was too much. 

"Dammit Andy!" she said as she pushed back and stood up. "What the hell will it take for you to stop staring at me?" 

Andy looked at her as images of his mother danced through his head. 

Before he could think, the words just slipped out. 

"My penis in your vagina," he said. 

And then his eyes went wide in horror. 

He'd have covered his mouth if he could have found the will to lift his hands, but his body suddenly felt as if it was full of sand; heavy and unresponsive. 

Rachel's face was a mask. She narrowed her eyes, studying him, and then let out a breath. 

With both hands, Rachel reached to the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her legs. She stepped out of them and dropped the garment to the side. Rachel sat down in the loveseat, stretching her arms against the back and uncrossed her legs, spreading them wide for her son. 

Her expression was stern, though with one eyebrow raised. 

"There's my vagina," she said. "Now where is your cock?" 

For a moment, Andy forgot how to breathe. He couldn't believe it. It was an accident. He didn't mean to say it, but here before him was the first vagina he'd ever seen with his own eyes, and it belonged to his mother! It was neatly trimmed with a small patch of hair resting on her mons, making it look so incredibly inviting as it glistened in the light. The lips of her labia were parted and wet, as if salivating before a feast. 

"Well?" his mother asked. 

Andy's mind was going mile-a-minute. 

"Is she bluffing? Would she really?" he thought, "Would I really?" 

With one final look at his mother he knew his answer and Andy removed his shirt. 

Rachel's breath caught in her throat as her son bared his chest. 

"Oh my god!" she thought. "He's going to do it!" 

She was terrified and knew she had to put a stop to it... though all she did was adjust her legs wider. 

Her eyes were locked on his hands as they removed his belt. She felt her tongue lick her lips as he lowered the zipper on his fly. And then, in one move, Andy pushed his briefs and jeans down, freeing his pent up erection. 

"Oh my god," Rachel whispered. She couldn't take her hungry eyes off of the beast between her son's legs. His veins pulsed and the skin looked as taut as leather. She squirmed in her seat as he stepped out of his pants and stood before his mother; naked and fully erect. 

Andy looked down at his mother. 

"Are you serious?" he asked. 

Rachel looked up to her son as she scooted her ass closer to the edge. 

"Are you?" she asked. 

Andy stepped closer and pointed his cock right at his mother's opening. He felt the tip slip across her moist labia, mixing his pre-cum with her natural lubricant. He inched closer still, the head now nestled between the lips which slowly parted, squeezing onto him as he pushed forward. In one long, slow thrust, Andy eased his cock into the tight wetness of his mother's pussy. 

"Oh my god!" Rachel moaned. "You actually did it!" 

"Uh-huh!" Andy nodded, equally surprised. "I did." 

Rachel bit her lip and smiled as she felt filled for the first time in ages. She looked down, seeing her son's groin pressed firmly against her pelvis. His entire length was buried within her and that realization kicked her libido into overdrive.  

"You know...," she said reaching down and holding her thighs open. "You're already inside. I guess you might as well fuck me." 

Andy smiled as he began to withdraw; slowly removing his rigid tool from within her. Rachel closed her eyes as she felt her lower lips grip and caress the length of his member, feeling each pulsing vein, the gentle curve of his cock, and the ridge of his crown. 

Her son held himself there, just the head inside and watched as she moaned and gyrated her hips. He inched forward, then back, both of them teasing the other. He'd slip in an inch, then pull back, and then slip in only half that amount. He gently see-sawed his hips, ever so slightly back and forth, rarely pushing more than half his length within her heated pussy. 

"Mmmm you feel so good," Rachel purred as she relished the feeling of a cock within her. She opened her eyes. "But I didn't tell you to tease me. I said you should fuck me." She reached out, grabbed his hips and pulled him inside her in one hard, fluid motion. 

"Oh fuck!" she groaned as she felt the head of his cock squeeze deep within her womb. 

He son pulled back then thrust hard into her once more; then again, and again. She gripped his cock tightly moaning with every thrust of his hips. It was incredible, so hot, and far too stimulating. Her hands reached under her legs, holding her thighs wide open, begging him to go deeper still. 

Andy looked down at his wanton mother, lewdly displayed before him with his own cock pistoning within her pussy. His virginity was gone, taken by this wild woman that was his mother. 

"Keep fucking me, Baby," she said, eyes tightly closed. "That's it, keep fucking me." 

"Oh Mom!" Andy cried as he pumped his hips, feeling his pelvis smashing into hers, and then suddenly, he felt it; that familiar tingling in his testicles. The day's torment finally finding release. 

"I... I can't hold it," Andy mumbled feeling his shaft start to tighten. 

"AH!" his mother cried. "Ugh baby, you're gonna come for me?" she asked, looking up at him as he fucked her. "Already?" 

He nodded, panting. 

"Okay," Rachel said, her eyes widened. "You can't come in my pussy baby. Not in my pussy." She gritted her teeth as he thrust in deep. "Is... Is my mouth okay?" 

Who the fuck would say no to that? 

Quickly, he pulled out, his cock shimmering in their juices. Rachel pushed him back and ripped her shirt off, kneeling before her equally naked son. With no preamble, she grabbed his magnificent penis and sucked it deep into her mouth. 

"Holy shit!" Andy cried as he watched his mother giving him his first blowjob. 

She busied herself on her task, milking his cock into her mouth, holding the base of his shaft with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other. It was all too much and when Rachel squeezed him past her tonsils, she felt his body tense, his penis flex against her tongue, and a thick rope of semen shot off deep down her throat. 

"My son's come," Rachel thought in a daze as she tasted her son as he ejaculated. It was all it took and finally, an explosion of sensation ripped through her body like a supernova as she climaxed, her son still deep in her mouth firing shot after shot within her. 

Together they shook, basking in the waves of pleasure that took them both, until finally, knees weak, Andy fell back onto the couch, his semi-hard penis slipping from his mother's quivering lips. 

They sat there, mother on the floor and son on the couch, both panting, flushed, and riding the aftershocks. Their world so shrouded in lust seemed now to slowly dissolve away, like a fog in a breeze until suddenly; the gravity of what they had just done sank into their cores. 

"...Mom?" Andy spoke, his voice cracking as he still tried to gather breath. 

Rachel sat there, looking down as her own breath slowly returned. She saw her bare breasts, nipples still hard with a trail of saliva gripping to her right tit. It didn't stop there for this trail continued, broken but evident, stretching upon the wooden floors and up her son's bare legs, leading to his beautiful cock, still glistening and coated with her spit. 

"... Mom, I'm..." he began again but stopped, seeing her eyes locked onto his softening tool. 

Rachel raised her gaze and met his. 

"... Well, that happened," she said, laughing more to herself. 

Andy cracked an uncertain smile. 

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Are we okay?" 

Rachel thought a moment, and then nodded. 

"I hope so Honey 'cause we can't take it back now." 

Andy nodded. 

"I feel it goes without saying that we never should have done that," she said. 

"I know," her son replied. "Do you regret it?" 

She looked at his cock. In many ways she felt like she could still feel it inside her, pleasuring her depths. 

She shook her head. 

"... No." She looked to her son. "You?" 

Andy beamed, unable to hide his glee. "Are you kidding me? I feel great! That was amazing!" 

She smiled, rose and walked around to the back of the couch. "Thank you baby," she said as she kissed her son's forehead; then walked barefoot to the kitchen. 

Andy turned his head, watching her ass sway as she walked. 

"So I guess what we did was okay then?" he asked. 

Rachel called back from the kitchen. "Well it obviously wasn't okay; but truth be told, I really needed it." 

Andy tilted his head in thought. 

"Then can I ask a personal question?" he asked as he heard the sound of water filling glasses. 

Rachel laughed. "I'm not quite sure what more you should know about me," she said as she re-entered the room, a glass of water in each hand. "You already know my 'O' face," she said with a raised eyebrow. 

Andy took a glass and sipped as his mother sat on the loveseat across from him. 

"Okay then... How long has it been for you?" he asked, looking up from the glass. 

Rachel took in her son. "You mean how long since I've last been with a man?" 

Andy nodded. 

"Well, let's just say the last man I was with before you was your father." 

Andy did the math. 

"Wow, really?" he asked. 

"Mm-hmm," Rachel replied, then tilted her head as a wicked thought entered her mind. "So may I ask you something?" 

"Anything!" Andy chimed. 

Rachel set her glass down. 

"Was I your first?" 

Andy's smile faded, and then he nodded. 

"Really?" Her smile grew. 

"Yeah," he said as he watched her reaction. 

"Wow! I've never popped someone's cherry before." Her nipples began to harden once more, though she didn't notice, but Andy did. 

"Well, neither have I," he said. 

"What'd it feel like?" she asked, leaning forward. 

"What?" Andy coughed. "What? Like losing it or... or being in your..." 

Rachel shrugged. "Whichever." 

Andy cleared his throat as his cock twitched. 

"Um... It felt kinda... wet." 

"Obviously," Rachel smirked as she reached her arms out to the side then up, stretching her back and thrusting her chest out to Andy's lecherous eyes. 

His pulse quickened and his cock began to harden. 

"... And warm. It was really warm." His eyes were glued to her and she cracked her back. 

"I bet it was. It was inside my body," she said as she stood up from the couch. "Anything else?" 

He watched as she turned in front of him and took a step to the side, leaving a clear gap between her thighs. Rachel trailed a hand between her breasts down to her navel and back, letting her fingernails barely graze her skin. 

"It was... tight..." 

"What was?" she asked shifting her weight back and forth between her feet, hips rocking in motion. 

"Your... Your..." 

"My pussy?" Rachel asked stepping closer to her son. "That's what I call her. Momma's little pussy." 

Andy nodded. 

"Though sometimes she's my kitty; my poor, neglected kitty," she purred as she lowered her hand down past her navel so her fingertips could twirl the tiny whips of her pubic hair. 

"And sometime, when I'm feeling really dirty, I'll call her my cunt." 

Andy moaned hearing his mother speak with such a dirty tongue. His eyes were transfixed as he watched her slip two fingers down inside her lips. His cock was rock hard, sticking out from his thighs. 

"You didn't get to really meet her, did you?" Rachel asked as she swirled her two fingers within her pot. "Mmmmm. I mean you got to feel her, but not taste her." She locked eyes on her son. "Would you like to taste her?" 

Andy nodded, finding he had lost the power to form words as his mother smiled. She removed the two fingers from her quim, coated in her motherly nectar and slipped them into her son's mouth. 

Her flavor splashed against his palate; sweet like honey yet salty like sweat. It tasted forbidden. 

"She tastes good, doesn't she?" Rachel asked as she reached down and grabbed his hard cock in her bare hand. She straddled her son, her breasts pressed against her son's bare chest as she whispered in his ear. 

"You can eat her all you want later," she cooed. "But right now, you need to feed her." 

Andy offered no resistance as his mother sank his hard cock back into her vagina, settling her weight into his lap completely. 

"Oh Mom!" Andy groaned as he felt her ass on his thighs, her groin pressed firmly against his as her nipples scraped against his chest. 

"This feel good Baby?" she asked, biting his earlobe. "Feel good having your nice, hard dick in momma's cunt?" 

Andy's groaning grew loader as she raised her hips, then lowered them, slowly sawing his cock in-and-out of her pussy. He reached out, grasping her hips firmly as he thrust in response, matching her tempo as they fucked each other. 

"Mmmm," she moaned with a smile. "I like it when you fuck me. But I think you'd like this better," she said as she reached down and grabbed his hands and placed them on her tits. 

"There you go," she said as he squeezed her firm breasts, her nipples digging into his palms. 

A thought entered Andy's mind and he chuckled. 

Rachel looked down at her son as she rocked her hips. 

"What?" she smiled, eyebrows furrowing. 

Andy shook his head. 

"It's nothing... It's just I never thought I'd round home plate before I got to second base." 

His mother laughed; her smile ever so enticing. 

"Ever get to first?" she asked. 

Andy sheepishly shook his head. 

"Let's fix that," Rachel said as she tilted his chin up and brought her lips to his. 

Together they embraced, bodies rocking, lips locked, and limbs wrapping around each other. Their passion seemed to multiply tenfold as their tongues danced together. Andy's arms held his mother tightly; one hand between her shoulders and the other in the small of her back. Fingers pressed hard against her flesh, digging into her muscles and tendons. 

"Andy," she breathed "Oh Andy." 

"Mmphf" was all he could manage in reply as she muffled his cries with her mouth while their bodies slapped together. 

She grabbed his hair and he grabbed her ass, pulling her cheeks apart to thrust in deeper. 

"Ah!" she cried, feeling him stretching somehow to new depths. "Andy, you're so hard!" she cried as she buried her face in the side of his neck. "Your dick feel's amazing! Oh Baby, you make me so wet." 

Andy's hands pulled and pushed, kneading her ass like dough. Slowly, he let one hand trail a little further into her cleft, slipping into the crack of her ass until his fingertips gently grazed her anus. 

Rachel shivered wickedly at the touch. 

"Hello there, Naughty Boy" she laughed as she bit his lip but not saying no. 

Andy bit her back, applying the slightest of pressure to his finger, gently circling her ring, tickling her. 

"Ah! Oh Andy, you shouldn't be doing that," she gasped. 

"Is this bad?" he asked, still teasing her asshole with his digits. 

Rachel shook her head. 

"No, but just on the outside for now, okay? We'll have plenty of time for that later." 

Andy's face lit up like a searchlight. 

"You mean we can do more?" he asked. 

Rachel nodded. 

"But first, there's something I think you would like..." she said. 

Andy tilted his head. 

"What's that?" 

His mother smiled and stood, her son's dick slipping out of her covered in their juices. "Let me give you a special view," she said as she turned and sat on his lap again, knees on the cushions and facing away from him, pushing her tight rear end right into his lap. 

Rachel looked down at him, over her shoulder. 

"Go on and put it back in me," she said, and her son did just that. 

Andy watched hypnotized as his mother bounced atop his lap. Her hands holding up her hair, and stretching her body as she thrust herself up and down. He grabbed her hips, and as she thrust down, he thrust up, slamming his cock into her hard. 

"Ah!" she cried "Oh fuck! Keep doing that!" 

Andy complied hammering up into her; their bodies slapping together. 

"Mom! This feels too good!" 

Rachel bit her lip as she pinched and twisted her nipples. Her eyes gazing over her shoulder as she watched her son lost in pleasure; pleasure she was giving him. She purred at the thought and clenched her vaginal canal, gripping his member tightly. Andy gasped and looked up at her, a smirk on his face. 

She bit her lip and did it again, this time longer. 

He groaned, feeling her tight warmth around him, massaging his cock in ways he could never imagine. His hands reached lower, slipping against her sweat coated skin until the swell of her ass checks filled his palms. He squeezed, eliciting a coo from his mother as she gyrated against his lap, rotating in small circles as she enjoyed his girth. 

"I can't believe we're doing this," he said as he pushed up into her. 

"Mmmm," his mother smiled. "I know," she said. "It's the first time in a while we haven't been arguing." She closed her eyes, basking in the pleasure of feeling his penis within her depths. "Oh Andy, you have such a wonderful cock." 

Andy smiled. "Thanks, Mom," he chuckled. "I'm rather fond of your pussy too." 

She shivered hearing her son speak in such a way. 

"Such a naughty boy," she said. "Speaking to his mother like that." She shifted her legs, placing her feet on the floor between his then started rising up and down on his pole. Her hands fell to his knees providing herself some much needed leverage as she fucked her son. 

Andy's grin grew as he watched her ass rising and falling in his lap. He thrust up hard into her causing her to cry out. 

"AH!" she laughed, caught off guard but not upset in the least. "You're... you're so deep." She smiled at her son, both visibly winded. 

He thrust again, the curve of his cock hitting her in just the right spot. 

"Oh my god!" she cried. "If you keep that up you're gonna make me come!" 

Andy grinned as he grabbed her hips firmly. He thrust again hard, then again and again, pushing deeper and deeper. He could feel her wetness grasping at him with every thrust. 

"Ugh Andy, you feel so good! Oh you're gonna make me come! You're gonna make Momma come!" 

"Oh Mom!" he cried as she spread her legs slightly bouncing on him as he slammed into her. 

"Fuck-me-fuck-me-fuck-me!" she cried over and over, rising in pitch as she felt her vision begin to blur. 

"Mom I am!" Andy kept thrusting harder and harder, feeling his balls begin to churn. "I'm gonna come Mom! 

"Ugh shit! Oh yes baby, I want you to. Oh baby fuck Mommy!" 

He felt his cock begin to swell. 

"Mom! I'm gonna-!" 

Rachel's body was tensing, her own dam ready to burst. 

"Keep fucking me! Oh Andy I'm gonna come on your cock!" 

"Mom!" 

"Do it! Come in me!" 

Andy's eyes flew open as he felt her clamp down and his fountain erupted.