0 comments/ 9514 views/ 1 favorites Jon's Women By: egmontgrigor2010 Jon Bungle's mom called and asked would he return home to live for the next month while his dad was away in Europe on tour as a guest lecturer on the art gallery circuit. "Mom no, I've comfortable in this apartment with two really nice guys." Matilda slipped into aggressive mode. "Did I think about my own comfort first after deciding to get pregnant again that led to your arrival, despite the harrowing experience I had in birthing Anna?" "What? That has nothing to do with me living here and you living at home alone despite dad pleading with you to accompany him." "I wouldn't expect you to understand." "Understand what?" "Putting myself out to birth you and not wishing to travel around fucking Europe for a month and living out of suitcases." "Mom nothing about what you are saying makes sense to me." "I'm scared living by myself!" Jon took a deep breath. His mom actually needed him. Wow. "Oh well that's different. Now I see a real reason behind your plea. I'll be home in about three days. I can write at home just as well as I can here, if not better. I'll pay my rent in advance and get these two boofheads to sign an agreement they won't sublease my room." "That is lovely darling and thank you. I shall endow your financially for making this supreme gesture." "Forget it mom. That turns this thing into a retrospective bribe whereas I would prefer you to accept I made the decision out of respect and love for my mother." "Oh darling. You still manage to say just the sweetest things that no one else ever says to me." Christ who'd have a neurotic mother, Jon fumed as the call ended. His father had seized the chance to get away from her for a month to mess with women his way around Europe, leaving his son to be sucked back into the homely web. His sister ought to be home being a dutiful daughter instead of being abroad goodness knows where producing a travel film. Life was so fucking unfair. Still the timing was good. He was still researching for his third novel following the success of this second book and had received a $25,000 advance from his publisher as a result of a bit of arm twisting and signing a 7-year contract tying him to Yeoman Sisters Publishing. GEMMA Not long after dawn next morning, Jon who was thirty-two and a former university tutor in Celtic History, bent the sexy third wife of the owner of his gym over her desk and, pulling her panties aside, pushed in. "I don't like (puff) you leaving (puff, puff)," Gemma gasped as his fat cock squeezed into her depths. "There's a good chance (oooh) that (oooh) you'll not return." "Bullshit," Jon said and they bucked into it, he squeezing her fat thighs because her tits were too sensitive to squeeze, or so she claimed. He was quite sure he would return but knew he wasn't always right in his assumptions. * * * Jon's mother greeted him. She carried even more weight than when he last saw her four months ago but he could cope with that; it was skinny women who put him off women. "God what size bra do you wear now?" "Say hi mother it is so lovely seeing you again and then I'll answer that obnoxiously rude question." "Hi mother it really is so lovely seeing you again." "Forty-two, almost requiring size 44 inch." "Jesus mom, just as well you are tall. With all this extra weight can dad still get it in?" "Don't be so disgusting." "Does Harry Walker still get it off with you?" Matilda looked shocked. "How the hell do you know about Harry and me?" Jon watched for his mom's reaction, thinking this could be a great scene in his new novel. "Dad told me. He didn't say he was speaking in confidence." "Omigod," Matilda said. "When did he tell you?" "About five years ago." "Omigod your father knows he's living with an adulteress." "Well mom it takes one to recognize one. You told me two years ago he was having it off with the Richard sisters." "Omigod did I tell you that?" "Yes but you did tell me in confidence." "Well who have you told?" "Only you and that was just now." "Oh good boy. If you must know your father finds it best to have me over the dining table." "Oh yuck. Please set my dinner place on the side away from that area." For years mother and son had chatted on amicably like this. Probably it was his mother's lurid descriptions of her sexual escapades before and after marriage that propelled Jon into developing an interest in writing steamy romance stories that had sold well and convinced him to give up teaching to work fulltime writing his second novel. Sales of 'Lust at the Stock Exchange' had pushed him from virtual obscurity into eighteenth place in the list of his publisher's top twenty authors. As they were eating dinner Jon asked, "Where do you two actually do it?" "Where I sit actually. I just place a towel on the floor..." "Mom lay off the details; I'm eating. Um is dad any good?" "He's up there at the top of all the guys I've ever had. Pass the gravy please darling." As they were clearing away after the meal Matilda said, "Oh I mentioned to Marlene Luther in the supermarket yesterday that you were coming home. She had asked about you. She wonders if you could call and assess a painting for her. Her mother died and she cleared away almost everything but kept this painting because she thought there was something about it." "Would she know the difference between a print and a painting?" "Probably not but she said it was signed." "What was the signature? Of course a print can show a signature." Matilda said she didn't ask. MARLENE Late next morning Jon, who'd taken art history as an adjunct to his studies of European history at his father's insistence for putting him through 4-year college, called on Mrs Luther. She didn't answer the front door and he went around the house and found her dressed in a bikini watering a flower garden. "Hi Mrs Luther," Jon said, immediately noticing the attorney's wife had practically no surplus fat over her curvaceous body. She was more than ten years younger than his mother so could be about forty-two or perhaps a little older. "Oh Jon darling, how lovely to see you again. Come give me a big fat kiss." John pecked her on the cheek and she frowned. Mrs Luther was secretary of the floral art society that his mom had presided over for almost fifteen years. Should you be watering now with the heat rising. I understood it was best to water from sundown?" "I suppose you are right. Turn off the water please." "Right now give me a proper kiss, on the lips. Don't be so mean." It was a full on kiss and he felt her tongue pushing at his lips. Jesus. "That was lovely. Come in a take a look at this painting." Jon following her inside, noticing the swaying hips and the two bits of butt cheeks exposed at the base of her bikini bottom. His cock hardened. Yep if she continued to act sexy he'd gladly give her what she appeared to want. But the question was, did she really want it? "Place you hand over the signature Marlene." "That's the first time you've ever called me Marlene." "Well until today I hadn't realized you had such a superb body." "Meaning?" she glared. "Nothing except it's the body of a young woman." She sucked in breath and shielded the signature from his gaze. Jon smiled, noticing her hand was shaking and yet being tall she hadn't been required to stretch to reach the bottom of the wall hanging. "This is probably a local artist. As an assignment another student and I studied the work and salability/resale of thirty artists in the top bracket of artists living within 150 miles of here during the past thirty years. It sounds onerous but wasn't because there were only seventeen who qualified in the elite group. I think this could be one of them. I'm thinking T.B. Locke. Remove your hand sweetie." Sweetie glanced at Jon and removed her hand. "T. B. Locke," she whispered excitedly. "Yes but don't get too excited. You can discuss the painting with Teresa; she has a website with email address. I'm picking this is an early work when she was still developing. My guess it might be valued at $250 to perhaps $350 bucks whereas she probably gets at a thousand bucks or more for her landscapes today. She is not a high producer." "The value is not that important because I don't aim to sell it. But I'll read up on her. I was just interested in who the artist was because I think I know the location of this scene. It's very much like a place I've hiked through a couple of times in the Whitestone Hills." "It could well be. Well I must go." "Why?" "I don't know really." "Stay for coffee. I'll get dressed." "Why." She flushed and said was practically nude. That only encouraged Jon to eye her and she boldly cupped her breasts. "Do you think these are too small for my height? "I'll have to consider that. Show them to me." Marlene said cautiously, "Jon I'm married." "So? I need you to remove your bra so I can answer your question." Marlene studied the floor while she removed her bra. "They flop a bit," she said, looking up at him. "Yes but very nicely. May I touch?" She whispered yes and stood steady, showing no sign of panic. Jon cupped and lifted them and with her eyes closed she sighed and said she liked him doing that and Jon knew Marlene had hoped this would happen. Gently he leaned forward and kissed the puckered lips and just as gently Marlene pushed her groin into his. At that Jon had to assume Marlene Luther was not a first-time adulteress. Just a simple conformation would mean he had the green light. Jon reached down and cupped her pussy and she pushed hard into his hand. They sank and she was pulling down his zip before they reached the carpet. "Oh Jon," she cried as if she'd found something that excited her when shopping. "It's big." By then Jon was easing his second and third fingers into her and appreciated why being big was so welcomed by Mrs Luther. Later covered in sweat and smeared with secretions Jon called his mom and said Mrs Luther had invited him to stay for lunch. "I know what you're doing you naughty boy. Have fun." Jon took his mom to an early movie and then during dinner at her favorite restaurant she asked, "Do you see anything in a woman beyond her tits and pussy? He could always count on his mom initiating interesting conversation. "Whether or not you believe this mom I do focus on her brain. I like any woman I line up to have sex with to be articulate, knowledgeable and strong in meaningful and interesting conversation." "And now you'll explain it's a disappointingly futile search?" "Not at all mother. They abound and that has led me to the understanding why women prefer the company of women over men except when they require someone to eat their cooking and do the basic checks on their car and keep it filled with gas." "Oh you cute little devil. You knew that's what I wanted to hear." "You are my role model mother and almost everything I know about women, and that's rather a lot for a male I believe, comes from years of your tutelage. Matilda Bungle you performed that part of your mothering role superbly and that's the reason why I'm placed in this world today." Matilda glanced at her son as if checking for clues to his sincerity and appeared satisfied. IRENE A couple of days later Matilda called to Jon who was cleaning the tiles around the pool that her friend Amy Simpson was coming over with her daughter Irene who was home for a couple of days. Irene was keen to swim. "She can swim providing she doesn't splash around where I'm working." "Stop working please Jon and be hospitable to our visitor. She's your age." "Who Amy Simpson?" His mom rarely replied to stupid retorts. Jon put away the cleaning agents and pulled another lounger into the shade and lay down and then remembering Amy Simpson was a reasonably good-looking woman with a generous mouth the other lounger closer. Fifteen minutes later he heard female voices and wished he was wearing his white Speedos instead of floppy black shorts so that Irene could assess his personality from his bulge or whatever information females gather when they eye a guy's bulge. The bevy of high-pitched voices came closer talking excitedly about the weather or perhaps the state of world economies, who knows? He climbed to his feet and the chatter stopped. Mrs Simpson and his mom were gazing at his crotch and abs while Miss Pretty focused on his thick crop of blond hair, er head hair. His mom said he would remember Mrs Simpson and Jon said yeah he did. He remembered she played great tennis and had an athletic body and asked should he kiss her and the poor kiss-starved woman appeared ready to smother him. She said yes and he kissed her and ignored the statue beside her. "This is my daughter, er the mother of my two grandchildren, Irene." "I'll promise not to kidnap the kids," he joked and the women gasped. "Hi Irene. Beautiful day and the world economy is still in bad shape." That appeared to relax her although she moved partly behind her mother. "Ignore him Irene. My son loves teasing women but when your mother and I go inside he'll more or less ape the usual male. He's an author so does strive to be original in conversation. Joking about kidnapping was designed to put you on edge and thus eliminate the prospects of idle chatter." "Mom said you are an authority on Gaelic history. Is that what you write about?" "No and actually I was a student of Celtic History." "What from BC times or post-Roman times?" That caught Jon's attention. He said the studies had spanned from pre-BC times but had primarily focused on post-1900s and covering Celts in Brittany, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, the Isle of Man and Cornwall in England. "That's still a massive study range," said the 30-year old math secondary school teacher who was on vacation. She now appeared to be edging closer to him. His mom said, "Jon is author of 'Passion at the Stock Exchange'. "The title actually is 'Lust at the Stock Exchange'," Jon corrected. "Omigod I was at a dinner party where that novel was discussed," Irene said, stepping very close to Jon. "Until the arrival of your novel it appeared practically no one associated stock traders with sex." "Well you two are on to a stimulating topic," Matilda said. "I'm taking Amy inside to catch up on things. Irene would like a swim Jon and refreshments." "Oh right," said Jon. As the women were walking away he said, "Will you swim nude?" She giggled and said no, she was wearing a swimsuit beneath her top and shorts. "Then get your gear off and take this loafer. Beer or wine or a soda? They are in this cooler behind my loafer." "I'd like a beer please," Irene said, removing her top and adjusting the top of her swimsuit. "I won't mind if they hang out a bit." Irene smiled, stepping out of her shorts. "Are you sure? Some men appear scared by big boobs like mine?" "No you have great handfuls." She looked pleased. "Oh god, you're not afraid to speak to a woman are you?" "No there's nothing scary about tit and cunt. Half the population has them." Blushing a little, Irene giggled and said quite right. "Mom warned me you were a little unusual and so I'm not surprised you are upfront like this. I've always thought your mom was my mom's most interesting friend. I can see where you get it from." "That's interesting you should say that. For the first time I acknowledged that very thing to mom only a couple of days ago. She seemed pleased I'd said that. You don't mind having large tits do you?" "Not in principle because I believe what I have is what I've got, if you know what I mean. But smaller ones would have been more convenient and comfortable. Do you ever call them breasts?" "Not really." "Oh." "Flip them out. I'd like to see them please." "Jon," Irene said nervously, looking towards the house. "What?" "Nothing. I'm going into the pool." Jon put his bottle of beer and Irene's glass of beer on the pool coping and jumped in. He reached for her shoulder straps. "Okay." "Yes but let me do it." The soft orbs spilt out on to his hands. "I've never understood why men make such a thing about women's breasts." "They are a physical marker, to focus us on sex. You must understand a guy like a woman feels desire but he gets a real boost when he sees tits." "So you are now focusing on sex?" "Feel me. I'm getting hard." She reached down and said, "God there's enough of it." "Steer it into you." "No." "Are you sure about that?" Jon read her expression as a maybe. Whatever, it had to be her decision. He kicked off his swim shorts and began licking her tits, they both watching her nipples grow into stubs. They began kissing. She resisted penetration of his tongue and just as he was thinking of backing off and having a beer, she pushed into his mouth and moaning reached down and began jerking him. Jon remained patient, something he'd been told many times by women that guys when at this stage were no good at doing. He began thinking about reaching for his beer and at that very moment she began pushing his dick past the edge of her swimsuit and into her pussy. It felt slippery so she was lubed. "Oooh it's fat." "Yeah but lovely and firm when you need that feeling." "Will I?" "It's over to you baby." He knew she was looking over his shoulder at the kitchen window and was pleased when she didn't tense or panic. For once he was relieved his mom was good at gossiping. "I should have made you put on a condom." "Too late," he soothed. "Spread your feet." She spread them and he slipped all the way in, she hissing and pulling at his butt to ensure he was fully in. "You're the biggest I've had." "Thanks. You're not the widest I've ever had." "Thanks," she giggled. "That's a real compliment." They banged away, stirring the water and when she felt him thickening she said, "Come in me and then pull out and stay still. I want to see the sperm float to the surface." "Irene are you all right?" called her mom from the terrace. Irene called yes mom and then froze and they heard her mom say rather too loudly, "That over-sexed bitch is seducing your son." "Oh dear I don't believe Jon gets a lot of sex?" lied his mom, as Irene pulled up the top of her swimsuit while Jon grunted and heaved, shooting streams of semen into her. They didn't get to see whether the sperm floated to the surface or remained in suspension. "Come for a swim mom," Irene said, pulling away from Jon and brushing back her hair. "The water's great." "No thanks dear. Enjoy yourself. The sun is too hot for us out here." Irene said looking greatly concerned, "With that sperm and my leakage you'll have to empty the pool." "Hell no. What we've excreted wouldn't fill an eggcup. The pool holds approximately 24,000 gallons of water. Shall we fuck some more?" "Let's grab another beer and go into the dressing room." "You're a good fuck Irene. Is that the first time for adultery?" "No and I bet it's nowhere near the first time for you. Come let's fuck while I'm still in the mood." During dinner that evening Matilda said, "Were you two really having sex in the pool." "Yes mom." "We couldn't be sure. You were blocking most of our view of Irene." "That's an advantage of having a back. She's keen to come again tomorrow mom. If her mom accompanies her could you take Mrs Simpson shopping for a couple of hours?" "Yes darling. A mother mustn't stand in the way of her son wanting sex." Jon eyed his mom suspiciously but she looked at him calmly and said he hadn't commented on the meat. "It's great mom. Just how I like it. You have always been a great cook." Jon's Women His mom ran her left hand down over her right tit and smiled. MELISSA Freddie Walton who worked in the treasury at the City Council called Jon on Saturday. "I heard you were home. Come over." "Okay but I'll be a while. I'm washing mom's car." "God don't tell my mom you do that. Wait a second." Freddie returned and said Jon was invited to stay on for dinner. "My fiancée Janice will also be here. While I'm fucking her you can try your luck with mom." Huh? Freddie didn't appear to be joking. After putting away the car Jon told his mom he was going to Freddie Walton's and had been invited to stay for dinner. "Oh that's lovely. Freddie is such a nice young man. Be careful what you say in front of his mom. Melissa and Gary are living apart at the moment, agreeing they need a cooling off period. They had a big row over the state of their garage and Gary hit her. "And they've separated over that?" "He knocked out two of her teeth but the dental surgeon saved the day." "Jesus I didn't mean he was entitled to hit her that hard despite her interfering with what state he preferred to leave his garage in." "I'm glad to hear that," his mom said primly. Janice, who had a big butt, kissed Jon fearlessly although she'd never met him before. Mrs Walton smiled warmly and hugged him and said she was so pleased to see him again. She took the bottle of wine and said he shouldn't have and when she turned to put the bottle on the bench Jon had a fleeting glimpse of a great butt. She would be fifty, two years younger than his mom and in her younger day had been big into cycle racing and still looked as if she cycled for fitness. After dinner Janice wandered off with Freddie in tow and Mrs Walton said, "If you hear screaming don't worry. Janice is a screamer." "Are you a screamer Mrs Walton?" She tensed but not unduly. "You may call me Melissa. Should you be talking to me like that?" "You are only temporarily separated Melissa. That's only a shade away from being normal." "God what a refreshing attitude. People including most of my friends treat me as if I had cancer. But not your mother of course; Matilda finds it impossible to think like that." Their conversation lapsed until, being a woman, she felt compelled to say something. "What." "I think you are primed for fucking." "Oh god, Jon please. Don't make me throw you out of my home." "Feel this Melissa," he said, taking her hand and placing it on to his erection beneath his pants. "Can you remember when you last had one of these?" "Yes," she all but whimpered. "I fuck older women and bask in their enjoyment. Don't deny yourself by succumbing to inane stupidity or adherence to grossly inadequate codes of propriety. You are a woman in need. I bet your pussy is lubing right now, preparing itself for me." "I can't. It wouldn't feel right." Jon unzipped and pulled Melissa's hand back on to it, the difference now being she was holding on to warm flesh that was pulsating in time to his pulse rate. "It wouldn't be right you said. If you decide to yield we could be fucking within a minute Melissa." She groaned. "Pull out a tit for me to squeeze Melissa." She groped and her left breast popped free and the nipple was up stiffly. Jon squeezed. Melissa groaned and allowed her legs to open and she whispered, "Be gentle with me. You feel really large." Jon positioned over her and said softly, "Squeeze my balls gently while I push in. I need to know there are two of us involved in this." Her cave was hot and sticky and his dick went in like a cartridge slipping into the breech of a rifle. She was more than wide enough for him. "Oh I need this," Melissa said, squeezing his balls and biting softly into the side of his neck. After their first very satisfying attempt at sexual union, John and Melissa engaged in an ever better bout and then he slipped away and she went to bed before her son and his fiancée returned to the living room. That night Australian-born Matilda asked if she could get into bed with Jon. "No mom I'm sorry. Although I am rather immoral I draw the line at having sex with my own mother." "But why not," she whined. "You appear to commit many other sexual sins." "Well mother-fucking is off my agenda and I'm surprised you would be the slightest bit interest in me in that manner. You know other men; go to them." "You are an ungrateful asshole," she yelled and stormed back to her bedroom. Jon sighed. Yes indeed he was an immoral asshole but at least he knew when to draw the line. Matilda behaved like a delinquent. She scarcely spoke to Jon next day and that evening after receiving a phone call she came out with an overnight bag and kissed him on the forehead and said she would be away for two nights. She left without saying where she was going and Jon hadn't asked where she would be. For the next three days he worked most of the time he wasn't sleeping working on the opening chapters of his new novel with the working title of 'Addiction for Older Women'. The commissioning editor had told him there was a good chance his new novel would be published with that title because it with the right artwork, it was a title that screamed, "Read me." Damien was the young inspector in charge of the police station in a large fishing village. Newly appointed to the post it didn't take Damien long to work out the younger females traveled away for sex when their boyfriends were out with the fleet but the older females stayed home fretting for their husband and/or lovers. Those women were prime targets for sex. Jon had stayed at a fishing village to study the social interaction of its inhabitants, the economy of the village, all aspects of local policing and details about the fisherman sailing out, what they encountered and what they did during the fortnight to ten days they were at sea, what they did on their return, and the winter layover. He found his four-week stay fascinating and had sex on three occasions with older women just to prove it could be done and to question them about how they would handle their guilt. Although it was a village of 1800 people, that still was small enough for everyone to know the business of their neighbors and so it was difficult to fuck an inhabitant and to come away from that illicit affair undetected. The women he'd slept with had advised him how to manage his nocturnal visits and maintain pretty tight security. It helped also that not all villagers were blabbermouths, presumably knowing they'd have liaisons they wished to keep secret. Matilda arrived home and her mood was back to normal and she kissed Jon with her usual tenderness. "I stayed with an old school friend," she explained. Jon had visions of the two women shopping and going to a flower shower today until Matilda added, "Joanne had gone away for three days to visit their daughter." Oh good one mom, he grinned, shaking his head. Obviously he had her immorality gene. CHARMAINE John's mom called him to the phone to speak to a reporter from the Clinton Echo. "Good morning Mr Bungle, it's Charmaine Goss from the Echo speaking." Jon's pulse rate galloped. God he'd seen a photo of her in a promo for her newspaper. Although her tits were small her body was like a Greek statue and she had the face of an angel AND she was Miss Goss. He felt his body temperature rising. "Welcome back home Mr Bungle. I would appreciate you coming to our offices at 2:00 today. We wish to interview you." "Would you strip for me if I did that?" "Mr Bungle, really." "Sorry I didn't realize you were yet another over-sensitive woman. I don't do interviews. Bye." Jon cut the call and sat in front of the house phone extension rubbing his jaw while waiting for her to call back. That woman had not sounded a pushover. He let his mom answer the call and she called out, "It's Miss Goss. She thinks she cut you off." "Hi Miss Goss. Sorry you caught me in a playful mood. I behaved stupidly, rudely and unforgivably." "Wow." Jon waited for her to continue. "You are rather unusual Mr Bungle. People of note usually jump at the opportunity to be quoted in the columns of our newspaper." Jon waited. "Um have I offended you er Jon?" "I'm waiting for you to say you forgive me for daring to announce my desire to gloat over your nude body." Jon imagined he could feel the air thickening and was damn sure she was counting slowly to ten. "Are you deranged Mr Bungle?" "No." "Then are you over-sexed?" "No." "Then what are you?" Jon laughed and said a fucking big tease. "I was attempting to find how you as a newspaper reporter would react to my provocations Charmaine. It may help if I explain that my second heroine in my novel I'm now working on is a newspaper reporter. I was attempting to cast a fiery encounter with you to gather a realistic impression of how Geraldine would react when confronted with a boofhead." "A what?" "An obnoxious person." "Oh. Well moving along cautiously, where would you prefer to be interviewed?" "At the Lakeside Restaurant for late lunch." "We have no chance of getting in there today." "Surely your name Charmaine Goss of the Echo opens doors?" "Lakeside is booked out up to six weeks in advance for Friday lunches." "Please call then, asked for Mrs Mason and say you require a table for two at 1:30 today to interview me over a lunch to be paid for by the Echo." "She'll laugh hysterically." "I'm Valda Mason's only godson." "Omigod." "If you want a photograph of me being interviewed, book your photographer to arrive at 3:00 to take a profile only shot of me with you leaning earnestly towards me asking a question." "Our policy is full face photographs." "That's fine. Skip the photograph." "A side profile and including me in the shot will be fine." "Well I look forward to meeting you at 1:30 at Lakeside. Um what do you look like?" "Just another long-haired under-fed blonde with too much lipstick. Oh I'll wear a white shirt with a thin black tie and blue skirt." "Short blue skirt?" "Yes the one I have in mind is short." "And stockings?" "Yes and stockings." "Not tights?" "No I never wear tights." "Great Miss Goss. Thigh-highs or garter belt?" "I only wear thigh-highs. Please don't ask the next question." Jon laughed and said that was fine. He had sufficient information to recognize her and to know how to dress Geraldine in his new novel. "This is not being critical Mr Bungle but never have I had such a stressful time setting up an interview." "Well I guess if I weren't complicated I wouldn't be interesting. You have coped admirably and sound like a mature and capable older woman. Bye." Oh crap, Jon thought. He'd put her through the wringer. He'd now have to work hard on delivering a worthwhile interview for the beautiful young woman who'd now be resolved to greet him looking nothing like a mature and capable older woman. Jon looked up Charmaine's profile page on the Echo's website and found much of interest, including the fact that her mother was English and had been a stage actress specializing in period roles with a particular likening for the Elizabethan era. Ah that would explain Charmaine's ye olde worlde name. He read her sample portfolio of interviews carefully to learn something about her writing style and what appeared to interest her. Jon caused quite a stir when no less than the restaurateur Valda Mason led him arm in arm to his table. Even so it was nothing like the stir Miss Goss caused when she entered, dressed in a full-length Elizabethan white gown topped by a light blue suede bodice. Her hair was magnificent in ringlets and across her forehead was a silver Princess tiara. She looked stunning and some women began applauding and most other patrons added to the applause. Jon stood and Charmaine walked straight to him and he smiled and kissed her on the lips sweetly, meeting no resistance. "Thank god I decided to wear my classy Italian suit," he whispered, seating her and Charmaine giggled. He told her she looked magnificent and had blown him away and she colored excessively. After eating and as Charmaine prepared to begin the interview, Jon handed her his CV (she'd already taken it off his website) and quite an extensive account of his impressions of growing up in the city of his birth and what he thought of Clinton now. The photographer arrived and he was taken aback at the way Charmaine was dressed but understood the theatrics when she explained that at university Jon had studied the Tudor period of English history and then went on to lecture in Celtic history from post-Roman times. The photographer took the photograph Jon had requested and then persuaded Jon to stand and lean back on the table with Charmaine out of the frame that took in the lake in the background. When Jon was walking Charmaine to her vehicle she explained her mom was director of a professional theater and had dressed Charmaine that morning after Charmaine's hair had been done by the theater's principal hairdresser. "Do you have a boyfriend?" "There is a guy, yes." "Nonetheless you can date me tomorrow night?" Charmaine looked at Jon steadily. "Are you planning to seduce me?" "The thought had crossed my mind." "Then who am I to turn down a proposal like that? You are most interesting and have given me a great interview that I must now hurry back and write up for tomorrow's feature interview." "Oh I'm not that important," Jon said, genuinely surprised. "I suspect you have no idea of your appeal," she smiled. "You are the sort of guy mothers dream their sons will be like and sisters dream they had for a brother." That was another surprise for Jon. When he was kissing Charmaine goodbye she pressed into him. Jon waved her off and looked very thoughtful. Next morning he'd read the interview for the second time and had surrendered the newspaper to his mother and he was making coffee when Charmaine called on his phone. "What did you think?" "Excellent, you write beautifully and it was a well balanced article. I knew you guys would use the photo of me looking front on to the camera." "That was really big of you agreeing to that shot and probably knowing it would be used but we did use that other photo on the front page as a pointer to the interview. Before I left the office last night that photo of us both was ceremoniously placed on our 'Wall of Fame' of outstanding stories, photographs and celebrity interviews. In pinning up the pic the editor told me it was my best interview to date." "Well she shouldn't be surprised; you have heaps of talent." "And a subject who made it so easy for me. Um I'm cooking dinner for you at home. My parents are going out but know you'll be staying the night. Mom really wants to meet you. Can you be here by 7:00?" "Yes of course, providing you tell me where you live." "Daddy will send his driver to collect you at 6:45. Oh perhaps I should mention I've decided I want to fuck you all night." Jon choked and cut the call, unable to speak. What a babe. "Was that Miss Goss?" "Yes mom. Perhaps you should start referring to her as Charmaine because she is very likely to become your daughter." THE END