2 comments/ 40330 views/ 3 favorites In the Moment By: gdavis Ch. 1 My Makeover "You should say something to him," Elaine suddenly said out of the blue flashing me a mischievous smile. "Who?" I asked red faced. She had obviously caught me visually devouring the young waiter as he left our check. "Liz, don't try and play stupid. Marcos, the waiter, the one you can't take your eyes off of." "He's half my age!" I gave her the clichéd reply. "So," Elaine wasn't the type to accept such a lazy excuse. "So, I can only imagine what he would think at an old lady throwing herself at him like a horny teenager." "You're not an old lady. You're a beautiful and successful forty year old woman," Elaine boasted loudly. "Who could be his mother," I said in a whisper trying to remind her to keep her voice down in the crowded restaurant. "Is that the best excuse you can come up with? Every time he comes over here he can't take his eyes off of you. He's been blatantly flirting with you since we sat down." "He's just trying to get a bigger tip," I cynically replied trying to temper her enthusiam as well as my own growing appreciation for the points she was making. "You're hopeless," she finally said in a stinging tone. "I'm not hopeless, just realistic," I answered back defensively. "Well, how's that approach working for you? You haven't dated in at least a year." "Easy," I responded. I can take some tough love, but Elaine was starting to push my limits. "I'm sorry; I just want to see you happy." "And hitting on a twenty year old waiter will make me happy." "I bet he could do more than make you happy," Elaine quipped back smiling again with that wicked look. "You're insatiable," I laughed back. I choose that moment to excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I glanced up at Marco as I passed him and he gave me a bright inviting smile causing me to blush like a school girl once again. Inside the bathroom I couldn't help but study my reflection in the mirror as I washed my hands. I looked tired. My hair was lifeless, there were small bags under my eyes, and my make up looked exactly like what you would expect make up to look like if you applied it in the car while rushing to make it to work. I was a mess. "What would he want to do with me?" I asked myself dejectedly. When I emerged Elaine had already paid the bill. As we walked out of the restaurant I felt a hand suddenly touch my shoulder, "Excuse me, Elizabeth," Marco's accented voice called me. I turned to face him shocked that he knew my name. "I am glad you gave me your number. I wanted to ask, but I was not sure that it would be okay for me to do so," he excitedly said as I had the sudden urge to kill my best friend, "I do not have to work on Saturday. Do you want to have dinner?" I paused for a second before I answered, my brain frozen in shock, "Um, sure," I answered back mindlessly. I must have failed to conceal my bewilderment because Marco gave me a quizzically look as his hazel eyes pierced my own. "Good, I will call you before then to arrange a time," he responded again with a bright smile revealing his shiny white teeth. I gave him a half wave goodbye as I turned around to give Elaine a hateful look, which quickly melted away into a joyous smile as she giggled at my embarrassment, "He must have liked the tip I left him," she joked, "You should have known better than to give me your business card." ............... He called me on Friday, his thick accent just as charming over the phone as it was in person. I learned a little bit about him, he was twenty-three, grew up in a small town near Naples, came to the states as a student when he was eighteen, but decided to drop out of college to pursue career as a chef; a dream he was still striving towards as he worked as a waiter to support himself and save up enough money to pay for culinary school. Ever word out of his mouth only fueled my crush. And that is what it was, the kind of infatuation I had when I was just a young girl, before my marriage, before my two kids, before my successful legal career, and before the divorce that had convinced me that I would never have those emotions again. He insisted that I allow him to pick me up. In the seven years since my divorce I had become so jaded about dating that I had previously refused to let any man even know where I lived before we had been out at least a couple of times. But like all foolish young girls I threw caution to the wind and told him where he could pick me up at seven o'clock. Our dinner together was great. Easily the best meal I had experienced in years. He wanted to know everything about me, my work, my kids, everything. When I told him that I liked to go hiking, he responded that he loved to go hiking. He responded to everything with the same intense passion, there was nothing cynical our skeptical in his expressions, such a strong contrast to the social world in which I was accustomed. After dinner we walked down the Santa Monica Third Street Promenade holding hands, laughing, and simply enjoying each other's company. I started out self conscious, every glance towards us seemed to contain the same judgment about our age difference, but Marcos didn't seem to mind or even to notice. Not once did he mention the differences in our ages. After a while his indifference spread to me, I even started to realize that it was probably me that read the condemnations in stranger's eyes. If anything lurked in their stares it was jealousy. Marcos was gorgeous. He had a sculptured face, high model cheekbones and those stunning hazel eyes. He wasn't tall only a couple inches taller than me, but he had an athletic body, whose strength I could feel each time I brushed up against him. His dirty blonde hair was tied back in a short pony tail, the kind of look which I would have mocked if I hadn't been on his arm, but since I was I found it cute, he was the dreamy European man I had always pictured meeting in some cozy, Italian cafe. He walked me to my door only kissing me briefly on the lips before saying goodnight. He could have easily asked to come in, in fact I wanted him to ask me to come in, but he remained the gentlemen telling me that he had a wonderful time. I said the same, smiling contently as I watched him make his way back to his car from my open door. The next day he called me at ten in the morning, he obviously didn't intend to play any of the typical games. Since he was the last thing I thought of before I fell asleep and the first thing I thought of when I awoke, I definitely didn't mind the break in dating protocol. "I had a great time last night," he began in his earnestly sexy voice, "I want to see you as soon as possible. I have to work today and tomorrow, but I am free on Tuesday. Let me cook you dinner. I'll make you something very special." "Well," I hesitated, a thought reminding me that I usually worked until eight on Tuesday's popped into my head, but just momentarily, "That sounds great," I replied matching his enthusiasm. My rationale side did emerge in convincing him to cook dinner in my spacious kitchen rather than his cramped two bedroom apartment that he shared with three friends. I took a half day at work so I could prepare for our date. I enjoyed a complete makeover treatment; my hair, nails, and face were all pampered at my favorite spa and salon. I even had a full bikini wax. I was determined to look my best for him, as youthful and vibrant as a cynical forty year old lawyer could manage. There was no place in my fantasies for a tired, bitter, divorcee. The images that had flashed through my head the two days after our first date were enough to stimulate more than a few self induced orgasms. If he was half as good of a lover as he was in my dreams, it wouldn't matter what he cooked for dinner. I had a few doubts about how attractive he would find me. I am forty-four years old. But it is not like I haven't stayed fit. I started running long distance when I was in high school, and except for the years when my kids were young I have kept up the habit of jogging. I don't have large breasts, so they only slightly sag, and although the rest of my body isn't perfectly toned I've never been embarrassed to put on a bathing suit. I was anxious about his reaction, since as a good looking young man I'm sure he's had his share of gorgeous young women, but any serious anxiety about his opinion was quelled by the yearning between my thighs. He arrived at the appointed time on Tuesday. Like I said I wasn't really interested in experiencing his culinary skills, at least not that particular evening, so I tried to get him to make the simplest dish possible. But he was adamant in his desire to provide me with the promised "good meal". So I tried to remain patient, sipping on my glass of red wine as he worked in front of the stove, explaining what he was doing like a proud student. Despite my impatience I enjoyed being in the kitchen with him. He repeatedly had me test his different dishes, blowing gently on each hot item before slipping into my mouth. Everything tasted great, and the kisses that he gave after each testing were even more delicious. Each kiss became successively longer and more urgent. I held his body against me as my tongue licked the flavors off his lips. I was already wet from being in his presence; it took all of my self restraint not to start tearing off his clothes. But despite our growing passions- I could feel his cock swollen slightly against my stomach when I squeezed him for a kiss- he stubbornly continued to prepare the meal. The food was actually really good, although my ability to judge was no doubt biased by the hormones racing through my body. The salmon was tender and juicy, the sauce was flavorful without being heavy, and everything else provoked nothing but praise for his culinary skills. His face beamed with each compliment I gave him. I wasn't sure what to do after dinner. I knew what I wanted to do, but wasn't sure how to go about it. All my experiences since my husband had been so formulaic; I would invite my date inside and we would head directly to the bedroom. Here I wasn't sure if I should offer to watch a movie or watch television. I know now that those thoughts were ridiculous, but at the time I was out of my element. I rose up to clear the plates of the table, but Marcos immediately jumped out of his seat and told me to sit back down, "Let me clear away the plates for you," he offered gallantly making me feel even more like a princess. "Don't be silly, I want to help you. You've already done so much," I protested. "Just sit right there, I am going to bring you your desert," he beamed. "Dessert? Marcos, you didn't have to," I called to him as he headed towards the kitchen. He said nothing in response, allowing me to admire the firmness of his rear as he walked away. I couldn't wait any longer. I followed him into the kitchen, creeping behind him as he ran water over the dishes and wrapped my arms around his torso, "I think I'll have my dessert now," I whispered in his ear as he stopped the running water. I reached down and placed my hand on his zipper fly. I could feel his sex expand upon my touch. He turned around, "You don't want to taste my mousse first?" he joked as his strong hand gripped my rear and squeezed me close to him. We kissed passionately, our tongues lashing out at against one another. I devoured his sensual lips with a hunger that was only fed with each additional kiss. He seized me with his powerful hands and lifted me up onto the kitchen island. His lips found the tender parts of my neck as I closed my eyes and let his hands roam my body. His nimble fingers unbuttoned my blouse and slid it off my body allowing his mouth to explore the skin of my lower neck and upper breasts. I tugged at his shirt ordering him physically to remove it from his body. He complied with my wish exposing his well-built frame. I ran my hands over his muscular shoulders and taut golden back. I was already losing my breath as he deftly unhooked my bra and revealed my small erect nipples, "Beautiful," he whispered under his breath before enveloping my pointy buds with his warm mouth. His kisses sent shivers up my spine. "I want you to taste my dessert," he playfully said dipping a finger into the bowl of chocolate mousse then bringing it up to my lips. Lust must have poured from my eyes as I seized his hand and wantonly slid the finger inside my pursed lips, moaning my desire as I slowly slid it out. "Do you like it?" he mischievously asked "Delicious," I purred. "Good, now let me taste," he dabbed a drop of mousse on my left nipple and devoured it with his greedy mouth. "Delicious?" I asked. "Splendid," he responded, "I want more." "So do I," I answered dipping my own finger into the mousse and dabbing it on the tip of his nose before licking it off causing him to laugh. He lifted me off the counter and wrapped my legs around his waist allowing him to carry me up the stairs to my bedroom. He laid me gently on the bed and then turned on my bedside lamp. Still a little self conscious I flicked it back off, but he immediately turned it back on, "I want to see you," he endeared wiping away the last of my inhibitions. Once in bed his desire manifested itself ferociously. His hands and lips were everywhere. He whisked off my clothing and his own before I even realized it. His patience disappeared. With me was a young man who answered to nothing but his desire. He spread my legs open and moved between my thighs, but I placed a hand on his chest before he could proceed, "Slow down," I encouraged him with a smile. He smiled back as if I had awakened him from a trance and kissed me gently on the lips. His mouth trailed down my neck, my breasts, my stomach until his lips were kissing my inner thighs. I was going to tell him that that wasn't what I meant, but my protest was extinguished by the sudden shock of his tongue stabbing into my pussy. I flung my head back and closed my eyes as he explored the softness of my slit. His tongue was relentless as it lapped at the inner walls, causing my sex to bloom. Everything felt electric, his tongue delving deep inside, licking the spots which made my hips gyrate shameless upwards. But he was patient, never staying at one spot too long, igniting fires everywhere he touched. He already had me panting, but I was still unprepared for the shock of pleasure that accompanied his discovery of my clit. He lightly pressed against it at first easing me into the intensity of the sensation, before artfully flicking his tongue over and around my sensitive bud. He quickly made me cum, an intense explosion of sensations that ravaged through my body. But he did not stop as I moaned and my body rolled with the pleasure, he continued to gently lick and kiss, using a wet finger to delve deeper into my sex. I was his captive lying there enjoying every second of his attention. Before long I felt the fire build again, this time his finger slid in and out of my pussy as his tongued lavished joy upon my clit. It was too much. I rode the waves of another deep orgasm. Once partially recovered I placed a hand on his head to get him to rise up. "Did you enjoy it," he asked as he kissed me, my juices still fresh on his lips. "Delicious," I cooed, "Now I want you to feel the same way." I opened the drawer of the bed stand and extracted a condom from a basket hidden near the back. I gave it to him and watched as he ripped it open and rolled the thin latex over his impressive cock. He smiled and gave me another deep kiss as he rubbed the swollen head of his sex against my slick slit, "Beautiful," he said again looking straight into my eyes. I kissed him to cover up the emotions that word summoned in me. He entered me with a slow stroke. He proceeded cautiously, languorously pumping in and out. But I wanted to see the same look of pleasure on his face that he gave me so I grinded my hips up against him urging him to let loose his desire. He understood my body's message speeding up the pace of his thrusts. I studied his face as he enjoyed my flesh, wanting to remember that moment for the rest of my life. And then he came, his face contorted by the pleasure as he exclaimed Italian words I couldn't decipher, yet perfectly understanding their meaning. We laid in each others arms for the next few minutes, too full of satisfaction to feel the need to say anything, laughing each time we tried to form the phrase to express our emotions. I left to go to the bathroom and when I returned I found him laying there uncovered, his cock hard as a rock once again. "Already," I asked in disbelief. It had been so long since I had been with a young man. "I've just started," he responded with a confident smile on his face. I sauntered back to bed enjoying the vision of this young man lying naked on my bed. He reached up to pull me down to him, but I pushed his chest back down and straddled him. He smiled as I took control rolling a fresh condom on him before guiding my pussy on to his thick cock. I rode him tirelessly until we both saw stars once again. My young lover took me one more time that night, and again in the morning, as for the first time in five years I decided to sleep in on a workday. We showered together and he made me breakfast before I had to go, vowing to see him that night after he got off of work. Everybody at work complimented my new hairdo, telling me it made me look like a whole different person. I laughed each time they mentioned my hair, remaining quiet about the true reason for my transformation. Ch. 2 My Daughter It was three months since I welcomed him into my bed, and he was there again between my legs, slick with sweat as he pumped his hard cock in and out of my wet pussy. I gripped the bars of my headboard and moaned his name as he steadily drove me to the great beyond once again, "Marcos, Marcos, you're so fucking good!" the words just flew out of my mouth. He never said anything in response, just smiling as he watched me lose control, only making his own exclamation in hurried Italian when he exploded inside of me. But I let him know how much pleasure he was giving me, encouraging him to give me more. My hips started to buck up wildly as I neared climax. My legs were up on his shoulders as he held me partially up and off of the mattress. "I'm almost there baby, I'm right there," I exclaimed. Suddenly I heard a burst of giggles from outside my bedroom door and I immediately froze as did Marcos. This outburst was followed by the sound of footsteps running down the hallway and descending the staircase. "Oh my God, who is that," I said in a panicky voice. Marcos misunderstood my panic for fear and immediately jumped out of bed throwing on only his boxers before rushing out the bedroom door and down the stairs, no doubt thinking that he was chasing after an intruder. I tried to stop him, but he was gone before I could collect my thoughts so I hurriedly threw on a robe and followed after him. Of course I knew who it was once I heard the shriek come from the kitchen. Evidently my daughter had decided to make a surprise visit. When I entered the room Marcos was nervously trying to apologize while my daughter, Justine, was crimson faced. However her friend Lucy was simply trying not to laugh as she stared at Marcos. "I am sorry, I did not realize. I thought you were a robber," he stammered out. "Don't, worry about it," Justine responded quietly trying not to look at the half naked man in her kitchen. Marcos finally must have realized what was causing her discomfort because he looked at himself and realized that not only was he standing there in nothing more than his boxers, he was also still partially erect. Red faced he excused himself and left the room. In the Moment "Welcome home, Justine," I announced sarcastically. "Mom! Who is that?" she immediately asked. I realized then at that moment that I probably should have told my daughter a little bit more than I had about my life while she was away at college. But I always hesitated to say anything about my love life since it was such an awkward subject for us to discuss, especially since she spent so much time with her father in New York. Plus I was still a little embarrassed about how young Marcos was and what other people, especially my family and friends would think about it. Of course the fact that Marcos had being living in my house for the past month made the relationship something she should have known about, but she was supposed to be spending the summer in Europe, at least that is what I thought was her plan. "That's Marcos...my boyfriend," I hesitatingly informed her. "Your boyfriend? How old is he?" she blurted out. "Yes, my boyfriend. I'm sorry sweetheart I know I should have told you, but I thought you supposed to be spending the summer in Europe. What happened?" I asked ignoring her second question and trying to switch subjects. "Caroline couldn't go. Her parents were mad that she flunked a couple of classes. So, I decided I would come home to spend the summer with you. I didn't know..." she couldn't find the words to complete the sentence. "Well, I'm glad you're home," I said genuinely as the tension dissipated in the room and I gave her a motherly hug, "I just wish you had told me so I could get things ready." "And hide your hot young men," chimed in Lucy, unable to resist the temptation to make a joke. I had always distrusted, if not down right despised, Lucy, especially after Justine came home from a sleepover at her house with a hangover when they were just sixteen years old. "Yeah who is he mom?" Justine asked her interest peaked once again. I told her and Lucy the whole story, while at least the PG version, until we were interrupted by Marcos, now fully dressed, and I properly introduced him to my daughter. I was a little nervous about how Justine would take having Marcos living in our house. When we decided that he should move in it seemed to make perfect sense. He spent almost every night there with me anyways. Plus, it was even closer to the restaurant than his apartment and he wouldn't have to waste money on rent as he saved up to start culinary school in the fall. But I failed to think about my daughter, primarily because I didn't expect her to do anything more than visit briefly while she was going to school at NYU. One of the reasons she had picked a school in New York was so she could spend more time with my ex-husband who had moved there from Los Angeles after our divorce. She was twelve at the time and his absence during her adolescence had really bothered her. Having her live across the country was tough on me, but I didn't hate her father so much that I wanted to deprive either of them of the chance to spend time together. I was of course pleased to hear that she had missed me while she was gone, and even more pleased when she told me that she really didn't really care for her new stepmother as well. I couldn't blame her for not liking the whore since just mentioning her name during our divorce used to send me into a tizzy. But after the initial period of awkwardness she and Marcos began to relax around each other. They didn't really spend too much time together, since I made Justine come to work at the firm four days out of the week and Marcos' work schedule kept him busy as well, but when we were able to actually sit down together to enjoy one of Marcos' well crafted meals it was always a pleasant and comfortable experience. Eventually Justine became used to the fact that her mother's boyfriend was only four years older than herself, or at least she stopped questioning me about it every time I talked to her about him. Things, from my perspective at least, started to change to about a month into the summer. It was one of the few Saturday's that we were all home at the same time. Justine invited Lucy over to lay out by the pool with us. Lucy, for a lack of a better word, is a slut. Another reason why I was glad Justine left Los Angeles. I wasn't too tuned into the neighborhood gossip, but I knew the stories. There was even a rumor out there that she had slept with one of her teachers while in high school. In fact coming home late one night two years early I myself caught her basically dry humping her boyfriend on top of her car. She always wore outrageously revealing outfits and on that Saturday her choice in bathing suits reflected that tendency. Her well developed chest was barely restrained by a tiny bikini top. And I knew she was a bad influence on Justine because Justine was wearing an itsy bitsy bikini as well. Normally this wouldn't have bothered me, especially when they were just sun tanning in my backyard, but with Marcos around I suddenly became acutely conscious about it, especially since my forty year old body was hardly as trim and well maintained as theirs. Then sirens really started to go off inside my head when Marcos emerged from inside the house in his bathing suit, a speedo which revealed everything about him, and I mean everything. Marcos wasn't enormous, but he surely was impressive, a fact that was confirmed by the look on both Justine and Lucy's faces when he announced his arrival with, "Hello girls." I think Justine's jaw actually dropped when she first looked over. Her face turned bright red. Lucy on the other hand couldn't take her eyes off of him. She was basically drooling as she admired his tanned and toned body. Suddenly, the body I loved looking at myself was the last thing I wanted parading around in my backyard in front of my nineteen year old daughter and her big breasted friend. But there was nothing I could do, at least not without embarrassing everybody in the process. "I made you guys some lemonade," he innocently said as he placed the pitcher and glasses onto the patio table. "I'm going for a swim, do you want to join me Elizabeth?" he asked me oblivious to the effect he was having on my daughter and her young friend. "I don't think so, not right now," I answered trying not to let any aggravation leak into my voice, just wanting him to leave as fast as possible. Marcos just shrugged off my response before diving into the pool. After a couple of minutes Lucy suddenly stated, "I'm getting a little hot, Justine do you want to get into the pool?" She tried to ask slyly. "Not right now," my daughter responded glaring at Lucy with a disapproving look as I peered at them from the side of my book. Undeterred Lucy rose from her recliner and ventured over to the pool, sticking out her chest as she did so. "How's the water Marcos?" she casually asked as she posed at the edge with her hands on her hips. "Its great," replied Marcos with his usual enthusiasm, which irritated me greatly at that moment. I didn't even bother to act like I was still reading. I placed down the book and slipped on my sunglasses so I could watch without being overly obvious. Lucy took her time entering the pool, slowly making her way down the stairs at the shallow end. Even from over twenty feet away I could see her nipples harden inside her top as she slipped farther into the water. I caught Marcos inconspicuously glancing over to her as he swam around in the deep end, which also made my blood boil. As Lucy waded out towards the deep end I could tell that Marcos was finally getting nervous. Much to my relief he decided to get out of the pool, although it did make it obvious that Lucy had an effect on him. Her eyes never left him as he walked over to me to pick up a towel. I picked up my book as he walked over, forgetting that I still had my sunglasses on. "I'm going to take a shower before I go to work," he told me, giving me an inviting look as he did so. "Okay, Honey," I answered back ignoring the hint, my mind still steaming about Lucy's wanton behavior. After a couple of minutes I decided I couldn't stand being around my daughter's friend any longer so I ventured back inside and headed upstairs to try and make sure that Marcos knew that his choice in bathing suit attire would have to change. He was in the shower by the time I entered our room. When I walked into the bathroom he excitedly said, "Sweetheart, I hoped you would come." I was mad, so his jovial tone only angered me more. Yet at the same time I didn't want to appear to be some jealous old hag, coming to reprimand my young lover for having the audacity to wear a bathing suit in front of my daughter and her slutty friend. "Marcos," I began sternly as I slid open the shower door, "I want to..." but before I could get another word out I was confronted with his stiff cock pointing directly at me. It threw me completely off guard. "Come in my love," he urged impatiently pulling me into the shower with my bathing suit still on. "Marcos!" I exclaimed trying to remind myself that I was still mad at him. But he was incredulous to my protest shutting my mouth with fevered kisses. His hands roughly tugged down the straps of my bathing suit exposing my breasts. His mouth found my nipples as I gasped in delight, my anger quickly transforming into desire. He forced me to turn around and with another brutish move pulled the bathing suit down my body. With his left arm smashed against my breast he squeezed me tight allowing his firm cock to rub against my lower back. The warm water rolled down my body as he planted wet kisses on my neck. I moaned at the caress of his hand now between my thighs. He stroked me gently, probing my increasingly wet pussy. "Marcos, you bastard," I moaned, the last bit of my resentment melting away as my body gave into his demands. His only response was to turn me around and lay another maddening kiss on me. He had me now. I stroked his warm cock, feeling the heat burning within it. Not even breaking our kiss he picked me up and pinned me against the cold tile. With the same animal instinct I wrapped my legs around him squeezing him close as he thrust into me. We fucked like wild rabbits, my ass pounding into the wall until both of us came his cock spurting warm cum deep inside me. Still hazy in the afterglow we bathed each other slowly, enjoying the feel of both our hands on each others bodies. He kissed me tenderly and I hugged my soapy body against his, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart beating in his chest. With a finger he lifted up my chin and gazing into my eyes gingerly kissed me, sharing an emotion words couldn't express. After we got out of the shower he told me that after work he planned on grabbing a couple of drinks with his friends. I had encouraged him to keep up relations with his friends, but I was still disappointed to learn that he wouldn't be home until late that night. But I couldn't be mad at him for following my advice, so flashing my best fake smile I told him that was fine. Without him next to me my bed felt enormous and cold. I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't stop myself from watching the alarm clock; it was already one o'clock in the morning. I knew it would look pathetic to wait for him on the couch, but I couldn't resist, so I got out of bed and crept down the hallway to the stairs. I saw that the light in Justine's room was still on when I walked by and I could hear her and Lucy's talking inside. Much to my chagrin Justine had decided to invite Lucy to spend the night. After her shenanigans this afternoon in the pool it took a lot of self control not to slap her across the face and throw her out of my house, but I didn't want the little bitch to know how strongly she had affected me, so I tried to remain courteous. Although she didn't make it easy with her phony, "Yes, Ms. Roberts," and "No, thank you, Ms. Roberts." "Stop talking about him!" I heard Justine say in a hushed, but excited tone. "Come on, why are you so afraid to talk about him?" answered Lucy. "He's my mom's boyfriend," Justine answered back in an even lower voice. I froze in mid-step. I knew I shouldn't have, but there was no way I wasn't going to listen into the conversation after those words were uttered. "So, he's like half your mom's age. It can't be serious between them. She is just using him for sex and he's using her for money," calmly summarized Lucy. My head almost burst after listening to that accusation. "That's not what its like. He isn't a gigolo. He's a nice guy. And my mom doesn't even give him any money," Justine defended me. "But she lets him live in her nice house, feeds him, and I'm sure she is the one that pays for everything when they go out," Lucy responded reminding me why I was so hesitant to tell anyone about my relationship with Marcos. "He's saving money for school," fired back Justine. "Whatever you say, I don't really care. I think it is great that your mom found a young hot stud. I mean tell me you weren't blown away when he came outside today in that tiny little speedo. I wish my mom had a gorgeous guy like that around my house." "Why?" my daughter innocently asked. "Why? So he could give me a little bit of what he's giving your mom. You remember when we walked in that first day. Your mom was practically screaming. And you told me yourself that you can hear them going at all the time," I was mortified to learn that we were so loud enough for my daughter to hear. "He's a young guy, you know your mom can't keep up with him." "My mom's not old and she's in good shape," Justine awkwardly defended me. "He's still only twenty-three years old. We both know what young guys like that are like," as much as I hate to admit it Lucy was expressing exactly the doubts that I had in my mind. "And he is around the house all the time when your mom is working late. I bet he would give you a little taste if you asked him," laughed Lucy. "Lucy!" Justine let out loudly before catching herself and continuing in a low tone, "Don't even say that. I would never do that." "Why not?" "He's my mom's boyfriend." "So, it isn't like they are going to get married. And tell me you haven't checked him out. I mean you saw him today. He must be huge." "Lucy!" "Tell me you didn't notice." "Well of course I noticed. I mean how could I not?" "See, don't you want to see what all the screaming is all about. I bet he's amazing in bed," continued Lucy, I had an overwhelming urge to break into the room and stop it from going any farther, but I stayed behind the door frozen. "I don't want to talk about that." "Come on, Justine," Lucy egged her on, "I know you must have fantasized about him." "I'm not talking about it." "Justine, remember the pact." "We made that when we were like fourteen years old." "So, we promised to tell each everything about sex." "That was five years ago." "And I've told you the truth ever since." "I think you would have told me without a pact." "Justine, come on, have you thought about having sex with Marcos?" I realized that my hands were starting to sweat as I was on edge anticipating my daughter's response. "Okay, yes I have. He's around here all the time. And he is just so hot, and that accent, and the way he cooks, and..." my daughter started to gush, killing me inside. "Justine!" Lucy mocked surprise, "You have a crush on him don't you?" "Just a little one," admitted Justine. "Then why don't you make a move on him." "Lucy, stop. He's my mom's boyfriend I would never do anything like that," Justine responded, but it was of little comfort after what she had just admitted. "What if I did?" suddenly let out Lucy causing my heart to almost burst from my chest. "Don't even joke about that. What you did today was bad enough." "I was just playing around. How about I just give him a blow job, would that be alright?" she said in a playful manner, which did nothing to ease my anger. "Lucy, stop!" Justine chided her and I could hear the sound of a pillow hitting Lucy. "Okay, I'm just joking. But tell me what would you do if you did get a chance? If he wasn't dating your mom?" "No," my daughter quickly said. "Come on, just for fun." "Well...Just for fun." "Just for fun," repeated Lucy. "I'd take him for a walk on the beach at night." "Sounds good, keep going," encouraged Lucy. "And when we were away from everyone else I would have him strip in front of me. Then I would have him take off all my clothes piece by piece." "I'm starting to get wet," joked Lucy causing both girls to giggle. "Then I would go down on him. Just enough to get him excited before we jumped into the water together. We would get in the water together and he would hold me in those strong arms. Then I would have him fuck me on the beach," I was shocked to hear these words come out of my little girl's mouth. It was killing me almost as much as hearing her fantasize about Marcos. "What position?" "Me on top so I could look down at his beautiful eyes while we did it..." Suddenly I heard the door being opened downstairs and realized that Marcos was coming in. Without making a sound I ran back to my room, my heart racing from what I just heard. I tried to slow my breathing so to appear asleep, but I barely had time to catch my breath. Marcos came into the room smelling like cigarette smoke and wine. He got undressed quietly before cautiously slipping into bed. He wrapped an arm around me and kissed me on the forehead, I turned my head toward him to let him know that I was awake. "I am sorry, Sweetheart, did I wake you up?" he asked apologetically, "You're sweating sweetheart, did you have a bad dream?" "No, I'm fine. How was your night?" I asked trying to sound like I just woke up. "It was good. I missed you," he added sweetly. "I missed you too," I answered hoping he didn't realize just how much I meant it. He started to kiss my neck like he usually did when he came home late looking for sex. "Not tonight, sweetie." I stopped his kisses. "Not feeling good?" he asked with concern in his voice. "I'm just tired," I answered back. "Okay, I understand," he answered cheerfully, kissing me on the check before rolling back to his side of the bed. Suddenly Lucy's words popped up inside my head, "He's a young guy, you know your mom can't keep up with him," and I jolted up in bed. "Is everything alright?" asked Marcos. "Yes, I'm fine," I answered rolling over onto his firm chest and running my fingers through the thin patch of curly hair on his chest. He hugged me close and I started to kiss his chest and neck. My kisses trailed down his body as I slid down. His body was so warm. With him lying comfortably back I pulled down his underwear and exposed his engorging cock. Not wasting anytime I took him inside my mouth feeling him grow as I sucked the head of his cock. I stroked him to full length before slipping him out of my mouth. He smiled as I straddled him and inserted his sex into my pussy, grinding slowly against his body. I rythmatically moved my hips closing my eyes to focus on the sensation of his cock rubbing inside of me. Unfortunately another image popped inside my head, my daughter doing the exact same thing to him. Suddenly, I realized that I was playing out her fantasy. Disgusted by the thought I stopped moving. Marcos misunderstood my mortification for a desire to reverse positions so he rolled us over so that he was on top of me. I shut my eyes as he pumped his cock inside of me until he came with a powerful groan. As if just realizing that I had stopped moving he asked me what was wrong. I said nothing and rolled over away from him no doubt leaving him puzzled. He tried to get me to say something more, but I just shut my eyes and pretended to go to sleep. Only slightly frustrated he rolled over. In less than two minutes I could hear his breathing begin its natural sleep mode. I on the other hand couldn't sleep. Tears trickled down my cheek as I thought about my daughter, about Marcos, and about how pathetic I felt. In the Moment Chapter 3 My Mistake After the events of that day I couldn't help, but change. I analyzed every word between Marcos and Justine, suspicious that everything they said had a double meaning. I tried not to treat my daughter any differently, but suddenly I couldn't help but see her partially as competition. If there was any possibility that they would be home alone together I would find a way to keep one of them away from the house, either having them run an errand, or going so far as to allow my daughter to go on mini trips without a question asked, something I would have never done before. I became the opposite of an overprotected mother I used to be. It even started to affect our sex life. Knowing that Justine could hear us down the hall, I just couldn't let myself go like before. Marcos never complained, but it seemed like he was starting to end each session by asking what was wrong. Instead of admitting the problem I started booking weekend excursions, even taking days off work so that we could have a couple of days away from the house. I figured that as long as we could last for another month before Justine went back to school we would be fine. Unfortunately my plans were foiled by a sudden emergency at work. One of our biggest clients, a client I handled, landed in some trouble over a defect in their automobiles that led to the deaths of at least ten people. There was no way I could delegate the work to someone else, it was just too important. So I was stuck in the office working twelve hour days six days a week. To compensate I had Justine start coming to work five days a week instead of just four. But it was hard enough to get her to stay the full eight hours, so inevitably she ended up back home way earlier than I did. Plus she didn't go in on the weekends, and despite my urgings she stopped going on mini-trips since her and Lucy weren't spending as much time together anymore, the one bright thing that had emerged during that time. Marcos didn't complain about my new work schedule, he said he understood. "A little too understanding," I began to think from my new paranoid perspective. After he mentioned that he missed his family back in Italy I shamelessly offered to pay for a plane ticket to send him home for a couple of weeks. That is how insane I had become. He declined my offer because he had to work and I almost told him to just quit his crappy job and I'd support him through school. I know I was going crazy. But at the time I thought I was justified. I mean I knew for a fact that my daughter had a crush on him, and every once in a while I caught him stealing a glance at her young figure. It killed me when she would prance around the house in her short shorts displaying the roundness of her youthful bottom. It didn't help that they were becoming even more relaxed around each other, watching television together, laughing, joking around. I would have said they were acting like brother and sister, a disturbing thought in its own right, if I didn't know of my daughter's thoughts. Then one Thursday, only a week after I started working overtime I decided to take a break and come home a couple of hours earlier than usual, around eight o'clock. Much to my surprise I found Marcos and Justine sitting in the spa together. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I found them. They were sitting on opposite ends. Marcos was wearing the new trunks that I had bought him after the last fiasco, but Justine was only in a tiny bathing suit and they were suspiciously quiet when I found them. I almost exploded, but calmly acted like it didn't affect me, although I think Marcos realized from my curtness the rest of the night that I wasn't pleased to find them nearly naked in the hot tub together. After that night my paranoia reached new heights. I even checked out websites looking for video surveillance equipment. Fortunately, I realized that I was starting to step over the edge, but I couldn't help shaking the feeling that something was going on. Justine was acting totally different. When I would ask her what her plans after work were she would tell me some vague generic activity, like she was going to the mall or heading to have coffee with a friend. But when I would ask her about those events later it seemed like she always paused before answering, like she was trying to remember exactly what she had told me. Marcos behavior wasn't noticeably different, although he seemed to again to be very accepting of the fact that I worked late everyday. He would tell me that he missed me, but he never complained. I started to become so suspicious that I started randomly calling the house in the early evening to see if I could catch either of them there when they weren't supposed to be. Of course usually no one picked up, which only fueled my imagination, the scheme backfiring in my face. After three weeks of grueling work on my emergency case I had to fly out to New York to handle a couple of important depositions which I simply couldn't let anyone else handle. So despite my reluctance to leave the two of them alone I left on a scheduled three day business trip. The first day I must have called the house twenty times before Marcos finally answered around eleven-thirty, meaning that it was two-thirty in the morning in New York. I knew he had to work late, but I was starting to move beyond rational thoughts. I should have been more insistent when I offered to buy him a cellular phone, but he refused to allow me to buy him anything that would make it seem like I was supporting him completely, so I was stuck dialing the house number desperately in the middle of the night. Motivated by a desire to get home as quickly as possible I pushed hard the next day and finished up my required work so I could catch the eight o'clock plane back to Los Angeles. I knew I should have called to let them know I was coming home early, but the temptation to come home unexpected was just too great. I arrived home around midnight and quietly crept up the stairs. The lights in both bedrooms were out, but I could hear a faint squeak coming from Justine's room. My blood immediately froze in my veins. I was sure it was my worst fears realized. Just to make sure I checked my bedroom, but it was empty, so I tip toed back down the hall to just outside of Justine's room. I could hear soft moans coming from inside. Something definitely was going on in there. My clammy hands turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open. There was some light provided by an assortment of candles spread around the room, enough for me to clearly see my nightmare taking place on top of the bed. Justine's bare body was straddling another's. Her back was turned to me so I could only see her hips slowly wind as she worked the cock underneath her in and out of her young frame. It was too much for me, "Marcos!" I exclaimed. Justine's head snapped back to look at me with a horrified expression on her face. "Oh, shit!" I heard the voice below her exclaim, an unaccented voice that I faintly recognized. "Mom!" Justine's shrill voice shouted out in shock. I switched on the lights causing Justine to rush to get under her blankets. Bathed in crisp white light my mistake immediately became clear. Next to Justine was not Marcos, but Paul one of the associate attorneys at my firm. A wave of relief passed through me as I realized that I had been wrong. Of course this was quickly overcome by a sudden rage at the sight of my nineteen year old daughter in bed with my thirty year old co-worker. "Mom! What are you doing?" yelled Justine frantically, "Get out of my room!" "Liz, let me explain," added Paul clutching a white dress shirt against his lap. "Explain?" I responded angrily in disbelief, "What the hell are you doing here with my daughter?" "Mom, get out!" repeated Justine. I gave her stern look before turning around and slamming the door shut as I left. I waited outside as I heard them scrambling inside. A minute later Paul emerged sloppily dressed. I gave him a look of pure hatred as he shyly sneaked past me. "I'm sorry Liz," was the only cowardly thing he could say as he made his way to the door. Justine locked the door before I could get back inside. I pounded on it demanding to know what was going on, but she refused to answer. I could her sobbing inside. After a couple of minutes I stomped down the hallway and into my room. I waited for Marcos to come home downstairs on the couch near the front entrance. He came home a little before two o'clock. "Where have you been?" I greeted him angrily. "Sweetheart, you're home early," he happily exclaimed as he attempted to kiss me, but I turned my head away to avoid his kiss. "Is there something wrong?" he asked confused. "Why weren't you home tonight?" I asked irrationally. "I just found my daughter fucking a man upstairs in her bedroom." "Paul?" Marcos answered before realizing by the look on my face that he had just made a huge mistake. "You knew? How could you...How could you not tell me!" I shouted in disbelief. "Sweetheart, settle down, what is the big deal?" he asked calmly. "The big deal? He's thirty years old!" "So, what difference does that make," he answered back suddenly a tinge of anger in his voice as well. "She is only nineteen years old," I answered unable to comprehend why he didn't realize what that meant. "And so what? I'm only twenty-three," he answered back suddenly as if I had insulted him. "But that is different," I answered automatically. "How is it different?" he demanded. "There is a huge difference between a nineteen year old girl and a twenty-three year old man." "Why?" "Because...because...because it is just is," I stammered out frustrated by his questions. "I do not think it is any different," he responded unpersuaded. "It is when she is your daughter," I finally let out. Marcos seemed to be more accepting of that explanation, although he still seemed upset by the other reason for my distress. I pressed him for details about the relationship. Evidently they had been seeing each other for four weeks. Justine had been blatantly lying to me when she said that Susie the secretary had been giving her rides home. I had been so caught up in work that I hadn't even noticed Paul leaving around the same time every day. In fact the time I came upon them alone in the hot tub together Paul had actually slipped out the back gate when they heard my car pull up the driveway. I had been so suspicious of Marcos and Justine, that I again hadn't even noticed Paul's Porsche parked across the street. I was angry at Marcos for not telling me, but at the same time I was so relieved that it hadn't been him in Justine's bed that I didn't want to fight with him. Actually I wasn't really even angry with him, I was just frustrated. Frustrated by my daughter's decision and frustrated by my own personal sense of guilt. Not only had I had I thought my daughter was sleeping with my boyfriend, but I felt like Justine was partially imitating my own love life, that I had set a bad example for her. Plus, I felt responsible for putting her in that kind of environment with sleazy men who are so god damn cocky that they think they can do anything and have anything they want. If there was anyone I was truly angry with it was Paul. I was going to make his life at work a living hell. The next morning when I woke up and headed downstairs I found Justine and Marcos talking in the kitchen. Neither of them seemed too happy to see me. Justine didn't even say hello, she just stared at me angrily before stomping out of the house like a little child, slamming the door shut as she left. "How could you think that?" Marcos greeted me coldly with a hurt look on his face, "How could you think I was going to sleep with your daughter? Do you think I am such a bad person?" He asked, it broke my heart to see that he was so offended. "Marcos let me explain..." I paused trying to formulate my justification. I had forgotten what I had initially said when I entered the Justine's room last night. Evidently she had not and no doubt told Marcos just to spite me, "After that day with Lucy in the pool I just....I just worried that you would desire someone younger then me. Someone closer to your age," I started to choke up as I revealed the doubts that had plagued me since I began dating him. "My daughter is beautiful. And you both seemed to be getting along so well, and that one day I found you in the spa." "I told you why we were in the hot tub together," Marcos jumped in. "I know now, but what about then. You guys were acting so suspicious, and I've been spending so much time away at work, and have been so tired," I just fired off one thought after another growing more and more emotional as I did, I was on the verge of breaking down in front of him. "But how could you not trust me? I would never disrespect you like that. You think I'm that type of person?" Marcos said his eyes burning with anger. "I'm sorry Marcos. I'm truly sorry. It had nothing to do with you. It is my own insecurities, my own fears. I doubted myself. I doubted why a person like you would want to be with me," I cried out, tears suddenly streaming down my cheeks. The fire in his eyes began to die down. He gritted his teeth and looked away from me as if trying not to cave in, but one more glance at more and the anger left his face. In its place emerged a concerned look, he approached me and embraced my softly sobbing body. It felt so good to be in his arms I squeezed him tightly to me not wanting to let go, but he moved away from me. "I need time to think. Give me time. I will talk to you tonight," he said in a solemn tone that raised new fears, but the tender way in which he wiped away the tears from my cheeks and gazed upon me controlled those fears. He said good-bye and walked out the door. Needless to say I had a horrible day at work. Paul tried to approach me, but the one glance from me conveyed enough information to make him reconsider that venture. Justine steered clear of me as well, but that was fine with me, at least for the moment, I still had no idea what I was going to tell her. Not that she would have given me the chance, by the time I got home a little after seven, she had already left leaving me a brief note informing me that she planned on spending the night at Paul's. I scrunched up the message and threw it in the garbage. My older daughter, Marie, never gave me this much trouble. I realized how ironic it was that I had actually disapproved of her marrying her high school sweetheart when she was only twenty. Now, I realized what a gift it had been. Marcos came home a little earlier than normal, before eleven o'clock. He looked tired and he barely spoke to me as he entered our bedroom, barely even glancing my way on the way to the bathroom. I gave him his space, knowing that he would eventually have to talk to me, although the coldness of his entrance only gave me more reasons for worry. Finally he spoke, "Elizabeth, I am sorry I did not tell you about your daughter's relationship," he began by surprising me with an apology, "I should have told you." He paused for a couple of seconds before I realized he was waiting for me to respond, "You don't need to apologize, Marcos." "I do. I want you to trust me. That is why I was so hurt by your belief that I was sleeping with Justine. I need you to trust me." "I do trust you Marcos," but he interrupted me before I could finish the thought. "I never cared about the age difference between us. I was attracted to you and I thought you were attracted to me. Nothing else matters..." "That's exactly how I feel," I emotionally reacted hoping to dispel any thought to the opposite. "No, that is not true. You do see something wrong in the age difference. That is exactly what you said about Paul. That he is too old for your daughter," he added revealing the degree to which he felt offended. "I know I made a mistake, I wasn't thinking straight. I was just so angry at the time. I don't like Justine dating Paul for a lot of reasons. I don't like him as a person. He's an arrogant prick and I felt that way before I discovered that he was taking advantage of my daughter." "See, you think he is taking advantage of your daughter because she is younger than him. Are you taking advantage of me? Or do you think I am taking advantage of you?" "Marcos, you are a completely different person than Justine. You are already grown up. Justine is still a child. It's my fault, I spoiled her. She isn't as responsible and experienced as you. There is no advantage in our relationship. I consider you equal to me." "Yet you believed that I was sleeping with your daughter." "I told you Marcos that had nothing to do with you. It was caused by my own insecurities. I overheard Lucy saying some things about you, that I couldn't satisfy you, that a young guy wants a young girl. That is what caused that thought to pop into my head." "I cannot be with someone who does not trust me." "I do trust you Marcos, believe me," it was plea straight from my heart, begging him to believe me. I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him. He stood motionless for a few seconds as if deciding what to do, but finally he wrapped his arms around me as well and started to gently rub my back. "Marcos, I do trust you," I repeated. Before he could respond I slinked down to my knees. I knew there was no argument that I could make to convince him that I did trust him. Words alone can't create that feeling. The only thing I could do at that moment was show him that I wanted him. And I knew how I could prove that desire. "Sweetheart, what are you doing?" Marcos asked in puzzlement. I ignored him, unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper, "Elizabeth I want to talk," he protested, but I knew talking wasn't going to lead to anything but more frustration. I hooked my fingers inside his pants and boxers and tugged down. His cock reacted to the open air growing before my eyes. "Elizabeth, don't!" he gave one last verbal protest before my lips grazed his cock. That slight touch caused it to immediately stiffen. It pointed straight towards me begging to be sucked. I obliged sliding it into my mouth feeling the blood pulsating within it. I slid it in as far as it could go then slid it back out again sliding my tongue along the bottom of the shaft as I did so. I've never been a big a big fan of giving oral sex. It has always seemed like a waste to me, wasting the potential of mutual orgasms for one, but I appreciated the significance of the act at that moment. I wanted to make Marcos feel special. I wanted to make him feel good without requiring that he make me feel good as well. So in that moment I enjoyed giving it as much as I usually enjoy receiving it. I worshipped his sex, blessing it with kisses, teasing it with flicks of my tongue, and seizing it with my delicate hands. I caused him to gasp as I first gently massaged his scrotum, and then furthered my attention by bathing it with my tongue. Instead of closing my eyes like usual I studied his cock, running my finger down the vein as I swirled my tongue around its head. Desiring his orgasm as much as I would my own I began to steadily bob my head, working his cock in and out of my mouth. He ran his hand through my hair as I did so, gently rubbing my scalp as my mouth pleasured his sex. He suddenly placed his hands under my arms to lift me up. I shook my head in response, eyeing him as I sucked his cock, but he insisted using his strength to lift me up. He laughed as he squeezed me against him, the resentment of a few minutes ago washed away. "You know how to win an argument," he playfully joked. He kissed me as he broke his embrace. I responded lustily lapping my tongue against his lips. He matched my intensity, the heat of our kisses igniting an urgent desire within him. He recklessly tore off my blouse, pulled down my bra, and cupped my breasts, "I want you naked now," he demanded tossing me onto the bed. In the Moment "Are you ok?" Erin looked up in the bathroom mirror, one hand still wiping water from the back of her neck. Kailin met her eyes in the glass, her full lips quirking to the left. Must have followed me in, Erin thought, and ducked her head, embarrassed. "Hey, it's ok," Kailin said, and came over to hitch herself up onto the counter. Another girl shouldered in through the door and made for a stall, already unzipping her jeans. Kailin smirked at Erin, who found a ghost of a smile to return. "It's pretty intense out there tonight." "You fourth years know how to party," Erin said, examining her face again. She was pretty flushed – drinking always did that to her. Her eyes were wide and glassy and red at the rims. She hadn't even taken a hit on the joint, but apparently second hand smoke worked just as well. She leaned in closer, mildly intrigued by the way the fluorescent lights made all her pores seem really obvious. "You sure you're ok?" Kailin asked, half laughing. Erin supposed this was nothing new to her. Kailin was 23, she was graduating from the Theatre program this spring, and she was the TA in Prof Dunkirk's Acting Theory and Practice and he was known for throwing crazy parties. "I'm ok," she said. "I'm just. I'm a little high." Kailin leaned over and looked directly into Erin's face. Her breath smelled like peppermint schnapps. "Yeah, you're ok," she agreed. "I'm just going to stay in here for a while," Erin said. The other girl came out of her stall and half fell against the counter. She washed her hands, giggling all the while, moving her hips to the pervasive beat of the music out on the dance floor. She dried her hands on the ass of her jeans and then grinned foolishly at Erin and Kailin before wavering out the door again. "Now she's fucked up," said Kailin and laughed. "But she probably wants to be." "Yeah," said Erin. "But I'm just going to – " "Stay in here a while, yeah. It's ok." Kailin swung her legs a bit and smiled at her. "I'll stay too, I think. It's a bit loud out there." Erin nodded and wished desperately that she had something interesting to say. Kailin was so cool. So gorgeous, all long and lanky and androgenous. And she could really act, she was talented. And good at teaching, too. And she seemed to know everyone in the department, was on first name basis with all the professors. Erin had been nursing a platonic little crush on her for months now, and this amount of personal attention was both gratifying and slightly scary. "You did really good on that last scene," Kailin said, breaking the silence. "Really?" Erin smiled and then shook her head. "No, I still wasn't really, you know, in the moment…" "Well, not for all of it. But the part where Henry says to Madelaine that he's going to take the dog, and you have that line about if he touches the dog, she's going to bite him? It's such a hard line, desperate and funny and furious. You got it perfectly. Everyone laughed." "Well, one line," Erin said. "But that's where it starts," said Kailin, leaning forward. "That's how it has to start, with one line. One word, sometimes, that you can actually feel and forget about yourself, forget all the fucking junk getting in your way. You get one line, that's all you need, baby. Just wait. You'll see. Next week it's going to be that whole exchange, and then the whole scene." Kailin slid off the counter and poked Erin in the shoulder. "You do know that you're talented, right?" "I'm not," Erin said reflexively. "Megan – " "Megan is big," Kailin said. "She's got big moves. But it's not real, you know? It's funny, and it's sort of slick, but it's not real. She can make you smile but she's never going to change anyone's life." Erin laughed a little bit, nervously. "I'm going to change someone's life," she said. "Sure." Kailin was really close to her now. "You've got something. You're like, really in your body." She trailed fingers down Erin's right arm to her hand, and then took it in her own and turned it palm up. "You've got this way of moving, like your body knows something that your mind hasn't figured out yet. It's really honest." Erin felt paralyzed. A wave of heat passed up her spine and left her dizzy. Kailin's fingers on her hand seemed very warm. She was pressing her thumb against Erin's palm, kneading it gently. She was standing very close. The door opened again and three girls came through together, laughing and stumbling on their high heels. Erin flushed and tried to pull away. Kailin held on, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. The girls went into stalls. Kailin leaned forward and kissed her. She kissed really well. A soft brush of lips first, and then a firmer pressure, nipping gently on Erin's lower lip, one hand coming up to her jaw, sliding slowly into her hair, pulling her closer as the moist peppermint lips of this sexy glorious girl parted and coaxed hers apart and then Kailin's tongue licked quickly, lightly against her upper lip and was gone. Kailin stepped back, smiling. "You see?" she said, low and intimate. "Your body knows." She paused for a second, a considering look on her face, and then she grabbed Erin's hand and pulled – well, dragged – her to the farthest stall and in. Erin gasped a little as Kailin shot the bolt on the door, and fell back against the graffiti on the wall. "I'm going to kiss you," said Kailin, "until you tell me to stop." The look on her face was indescribable, half hilarity, half savage. She looked a little bit deranged, and unbelievably hot. "I don't know if I like girls," Erin whispered. She'd fooled around, kissed friends at bars for free drinks, putting on a show, but never in private, never for real. "You'll know pretty soon," said Kailin, and came at her. It was an assault, and for the first few seconds Erin was fairly sure she didn't like it. Kailin crushed her against the wall, leaning in, forcing the air from her lungs, and mashed their mouths together. It was expertly done; no bitten lips or awkward angles, but Erin could hardly get her breath back, and Kailin's hands were gripping her at the waist and in her hair, and she felt like a kitten must feel when pick up by the scruff of the neck. Unhappy, uncomfortable, and totally helpless. But then Kailin shifted, and pressed her thigh in between Erin's, and the hand in her hair loosened. Fingertips massaged her scalp. Kailin tipped her face further to the left and slowed down a trifle, letting her tongue glide instead of thrust, letting Erin get a bit of breath back. And then it was suddenly hot in the stall, very hot. Erin panted a little against Kailin's mouth. She put her hand on the other's girl's shoulders. "Mmmm," said Kailin, and broke the kiss to trail her lips over to Erin's ear. "What's the verdict?" she whispered, directly into the hollows and curves there. A wave of goosebumps raced down Erin's side. Kailin licked the spot right behind her earlobe and Erin gasped again, feeling like she was drowning, like there wasn't enough oxygen in the stall. "Nothing to say?" Kailin went on. She bit gently down on Erin's earlobe. "Oh, god," Erin said. "I'm going to kiss you until you tell me to stop," Kailin said. "And if you don't tell me to stop I might just fuck you, right here in the bathroom in this skanky bar." Erin was totally unable to speak. When Kailin said 'fuck,' right into her ear like that, her whole body contracted sharply. She was abruptly as turned on as she'd ever been in her life. "You don't have to do anything," Kailin went on. "In fact, nothing is exactly what you have to do. I'll do it all. Everything I've wanted to do since the year began, every dirty thing I thought about every day in rehearsal, every hot, filthy thing I imagined when I lay in bed at night touching myself because I never thought I'd actually get this close to you." Kailin began moving her jean-clad thigh, pushing it further between Erin's, forcing her miniskirt up her legs. When Erin tried to reach down and clutch at it, Kailin grabbed her hands and pushed them against the wall. She pulled back and looked Erin in the eyes, her face serious, her gaze searching. "Do you want to say something, Erin?" she asked, and tightened the muscles in her thigh, pushing it against Erin's crotch, which felt hot and liquid. "Do you want to do something?" Erin shook her head, hypnotized. Kailin thought about her? Thought dirty things? Kailin smiled. "That's right," she said. "That's just right." They kissed again, and this time they were kissing, Erin opening her mouth underneath the older girl's, lifting her hips away from the wall and against Kailin's thigh. It was dim back here, the music muted to a low bass rumble that Erin could feel in the wall against her back. It felt like a dream, like a safe space to forget the rules. Kailin ran her hands up underneath Erin's tanktop, and they broke the kiss long enough to pull it over her head. Kailin grinned and hung it on the hook on the back of the stall door, and then quickly ditched her own shirt, a brief tube top. She was naked underneath, her tiny round breasts tipped with amazingly large nipples, erect and proud. She took one of Erin's hands and put it on her left breast, and then leaned into the kiss again, fingers deftly working the clasp of Erin's bra. "Oh god, you've got great tits," she said, nearly moaned, as the cups fell away, and then bent her head to take one of Erin's nipples in her mouth. Erin stuck her fist in her mouth to stifle the noise. Someone banged on the stall door, making Erin jump. "Hey, there's people waiting to piss!" "Go away, we're fucking!" Kailin shouted, and then she kissed Erin again, the two of them giggling madly as the person on the other side started to laugh. "Can I watch?" "Oh my god, leave them alone," said another voice, and then they heard feet clattering away. The door to the bathroom wheezed open and then shut again. "Lift your foot," said Kailin urgently, tugging at Erin's panties. "A thong, holy shit, you nasty girl." She tossed it on the tank of the toilet and then went to her knees. "Put your foot on the toilet." She shoved at Erin's skirt. Erin leaned her head back against the wall, her brain reeling. She wound her fingers into Kailin's springy redbrown hair and then caught her breath as she felt the first touch of tongue against her. Kailin pressed her palms against Erin's naked butt and pulled, angling her hips up and forward. "Mmmm," she hummed into Erin's pussy. Her tongue delved, hot and slick and wriggling between the folds. "Oh my god," said Erin, and clenched her fist in Kailin's hair. "Good?" Kailin murmured, and then went back to work, interspersing long deep licks with featherlight lipping of Erin's clit. "Oh shit, oh god, oh god that's really good, Kailin, oh," Erin babbled, her toes curling up in her shoes. An ex-boyfriend of hers had gone down on her a few times during their relationship, but it had been nothing like this. Kailin brought one hand around and slid two fingers into Erin. Erin arched her back and let out a little sob. Kailin began to thrust with her fingers, curling them forward each time she brought them down, and Erin felt something begin to build, to fill like hot syrup filling a cup. Kailin firmed her tongue and began to strum it on Erin's clit as her fingers sped up, working them in concert, working them on Erin, working them harder and harder until the cup overflowed, the cup spilt, the cup broke fucking open and poured golden glory everywhere. Erin panted, her breasts quivering, her sweaty back pressed against the cool bricks behind her. Kailin stood up and pulled some toilet paper to wipe her face and hand, grinning smugly at Erin all the while. "I knew you'd like it," she said, and then gently took the handful of toilet paper and wiped Erin dry. The contact made Erin twitch slightly, her clit leaping in overstressed aftershocks. "I want to take you back to my place and do things to you," said Kailin directly. "And then have you do things to me. All night. Until we can't fucking walk. Alright?" "Alright," whispered Erin. She reached out and cupped Kailin's little breast again, and then ran her thumb down over the nipple in the way that she always liked when boys did it to her. Kailin's eyelids drooped and her mouth came open a little, and Erin leaned forward and kissed her. There was a half-sweet, half-salt taste on the other girl's lips. That's me, Erin thought, and desire stabbed through her belly. "Anything you want," she said. "Ooh, fuck," said Kailin. "Let's get out of here." She pulled away and began to struggle into her tube top. They dodged the rest of the theatre crowd by circling around the dance floor, but Erin was sure that there were a few knowing looks cast their way. She couldn't stop grinning as Kailin towed her toward the doors, their fingers entwined. The bouncer looked at their sweaty disarray and grinned back at her. "Work it, sugarlips!" he shouted after them as they went down the street where the cabs were parked. "Oh baby, you have no idea," Erin yelled back. Kailin burst out laughing, turned around, and flashed her tits to the entire crowd waiting in line. "Yeah," someone screamed, and there was a smattering of applause. They fell into the cab, clutching one another and chortling. The cabbie looked at them in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised. Kailin got herself under control and gave him her address. As he pulled away from the curb, Erin suddenly squirmed on the seat, a horrible realization dawning on her. "Oh shit," she said. "Kailin I left my – " she glanced at the cabbie and then lowered her voice. "We left my thong in the stall." "What?" Kailin started laughing again. "Oh my god. I hope someone treasures it." "It's not funny," Erin protested futilely, tugging her miniskirt down, trying to get it between her ass and the carseat. She was giggling too, uncontrollably. Sex with girls was bad for the brain, apparently. Or maybe it was the pot. "It isn't funny," Kailin agreed, and pulled Erin into her arms. "It's hot," she said into Erin's ear. "It's really fucking sexy, thinking of you sitting there all bare pussy to the world. Spread your legs." "No," Erin said. "What?" "C'mon," Kailin coaxed, and put a hand down between Erin's thighs. Erin bit her lip and looked at the cabbie, who seemed intent on the road. She spread her legs. Kailin, with devastating slowness, slid a finger up between her labia, over her clit, then down again, slowly, oh so slowly into her. She was still so goddamn wet inside, there was no resistance, just liquid surrender. Kailin stroked the one finger in and out a few times, then added another one. Erin resisted the urge to pump her hips, watching the back of the cabbie's head, watching to see if he was looking back at them. Kailin added a third finger, stretching her slightly. She bit her tongue and began to move, silently. "We're almost there," Kailin said brightly, as if nothing was going on. The cab began to slow down, and as they pulled to the curb, she put her thumb at the base of Erin's clit and strummed it once, like a guitar string. As Erin came, biting her lips together, Kailin leaned forward between her and the cabbie, ostensibly to check the fare on the little counter on the dash. "Eight fitty," the cabbie said, and grunted slightly when Kailin gave him a ten and told him to keep the change. Once again, Kailin took Erin's hand and pulled her along, through the entryway of the apartment building, into the elevator, where they kissed all the way up to the eighth floor, then down the hall and into Kailin's apartment, a loft with a great view of the old warehouse district, now a center of independent galleries and clubs and boutiques. Not that Erin saw much of the view. Kailin was kissing her again, pushing her up against the door as it closed, tugging on her clothing. "Get naked," she said as she peeled out of the tube top and dropped it on the floor. "I want to see you naked, I want to see you walking around totally bare." It was strange to be nude with another girl. It was all soft and smooth and round, totally different than being with a guy. It felt like there was nothing to hold on to, that all they could do was just clasp and slide against one another, everything one long, extended caress. They were on Kailin's bed, just kissing and moving their hands up and down each other's bodies in long, uninterrupted sweeps. Kailin stretched like a cat under Erin's hands, hummed and murmured and arched. Erin put her hand between Kailin's legs and felt the heat there, felt the wet. "Oh, sweet little Erin," Kailin sighed. "Do what you want." "What do you want?" Erin asked, stroking. Everything familiar and yet not. "Fuck me with your tongue," Kailin said. "Or just keep do – oh! – doing that." "I might need some practice," Erin said, blushing. "I don't want to be bad at it." "All you need is one line," said Kailin, taking Erin's face in her hands. "I don't mind a bit of rehearsal." Erin slid down the bed. Kailin smelled, well, good. Different from her own smell, maybe sharper? A sharper bouquet, she thought, then began to giggle again, thinking about wine tasting, thinking about oak barrels and notes of citrus. "What's so funny, you wretched tease?" Kailin demanded from further up. "Nothing," said Erin. Kailin was open like a flower. However clichéd that was, it was true. Inner and outer lips trembled like blossom, full and pink, glistening. Erin touched them, gently, brought her fingertips to her mouth, tasted. Full bodied, she thought, and was destroyed by giggles again. "I swear to god, if you don't –" Kailin began, but got no further. Erin began by imitating what Kailin had done at the bar; a gentle lick, a shallow delving, two fingers inside. Then, as Kailin writhed and lifted her hips upward, offering herself like a bowl of fruit, Erin slowed down, got adventuresome, began to enjoy herself, enjoy the slick sensations, the textures, the way that Kailin's clit leapt and trembled under her ministrations like a tiny, adorable cock. She wrapped her lips around it and hummed. Kailin wailed, clutching at the sheets. Erin waited until she began to relax a bit and then gave up on subtlety and sucked on the little nubbin, hard. The reaction was almost frightening. Kailin's head went back, her back bowed, every muscle sprang into sharp relief on her lean body. She strained, trembling, and then collapsed. Erin, nearly bucked off by this astonishing spasm, lay across her legs and cupped a hand gently over Kailin's crotch. "Holy Christ," said Kailin, weakly. "Wow. That wasn't any rehearsal. Opening night. Standing ovation." "Some kind of O, anyway," said Erin, and they snickered happily together. "Come up here," said Kailin. Erin crawled up and lay down in the curve of Kailin's arm. "I'm thirsty," said Kailin. "I could get some water," offered Erin. "You can still walk?" "I think so." "Then," said Kailin, and abruptly rolled over on top of her, "we aren't done yet, are we?"