Chapter 2

Sex at home had been weekly romps with Arthur which before her involvement with Amanda Firestone she considered adequate. Because of the way Amanda brought her to orgasm after orgasm though Mary realized that what was previously considered exciting sex with her husband had become routine and only mildly exciting. Although she’d always masturbated, she found that Amanda’s influence had her searching out new nerve endings in her body. For as far back as she could remember she recalled playing with herself and had done it excessively. After getting married she cut back but, since her involvement with Amanda, the gnawing sexual hunger she remembered when she was younger returned. Though she didn’t want to consider herself a sex addict or that she was oversexed, she wondered if she just needed it more than most women.

Amanda confided to her that she and her husband Tony were quite sexually adventurous. “We never let other people’s opinion of what’s proper deter us from what some would call being kinky. We’ve always been sexually curious and have always been willing to try something new. With Tony sex has always been an adventure.” She became envious of the relationship that Amanda described, impressed with their ability to communicate on such an intimate level. When she told Amanda about watching her son Lee masturbate—something she at first considered a sick perversion—her sophisticated friend simply treated it in a matter-of-fact manner saying, “As far as I’m concerned a mother fantasizing about her son is a primal emotion. I’ve often fantasized about our Corey and I’m sure he thinks about me in the same way, just as I’m sure that Lee thinks about you.” When Mary told her that since she’d spied on Lee that day and was constantly thinking about him Amanda laughed and said, “It’s no wonder you fantasized about him, Mary. He’s such a hunk. Even though Amanda assured her that she wasn’t the only mother who had ever fantasized about her son or was the only one who’d caught him jacking off, she still felt guilty; guilty that she kept watching until he ejaculated and enjoyed every second of it.”

Since the day she peeked at Lee stroking his shockingly exquisite cock and saw him cumming all over himself so beautifully the fantasy of having all that she’d seen in her mouth had become an obsession. Something else: since her conversation about it with Amanda Lee seemed to be continually flirting with her. At first, she thought she was imagining it but twice she’d seen him walking down the hall completely naked, something she hadn’t seen since he was a toddler. It was as if he were “strutting his stuff” for her. Both times he acted surprised and said, “Oh, I’m sorry Mom.” But he made no effort to hurry to his room. The fact that she made no effort to avert her eyes made her feel like a perv. She even had to fight the urge to follow him into his room.

One night when watching a late movie TV movie with him, Lee had fixed popcorn and they were sitting close together on the couch. As usual Arthur, her hubby, was asleep. She asked him if he and his friend Corey were spending a lot of time together. He told her, “Yes Mom we’ve even double-dated a few times. I like hanging around Corey’s house too. His mom and dad are fun to be with.” Struck with a twinge of jealousy it bothered her when he said, “For an older woman Mom Mrs. Firestone’s hot.” He told her that Amanda and Corey had a special kind of relationship. When she asked what he meant by “special,” he said, “They often snuggled together on the couch Mom, almost like they were dating.” Now she wanted to snuggle with him but couldn’t bring herself to do it or even suggest it. Afraid of what might happen she feared that her son would reject her ... that he might hate her for acting so inappropriately.

One day about one o’clock in the afternoon Lee told his mother that he was going to meet Corey at the gym. She imagined the two of them pumping iron: flexing those wonderful, sexy muscles, wishing she could be there to watch them. About ten minutes after Lee left Corey came to the back door. As was his custom he knocked once before opening it. Walking in he said, “Hi Mrs. W.” He was wearing khaki cargo shorts, a black shirt with a white Whoosh on the chest, and tennis shoes with no socks. Like Lee’s legs, his were muscular and hairy. They were the kind of well-shaped legs all women look at with the desire to feel them wrapped around their waists. She’d always tried to make those thoughts go away but today, for some reason, she let them linger. My goodness, he’s beautiful. It was all she could do to stifle a sigh. I’m being so silly. “I thought you were meeting Lee at the gym Corey,” she said to him.

The young man walked to the cabinet and took out a glass. He went to the refrigerator, opened the door, took out the milk carton, and poured himself a glass of milk. “Well, whether I go or not Lee’s going to work out for a couple of hours,” he chuckled. “You know what a fanatic he is.”

She watched as he slouched into a chair at the table and sipped, all the while assessing her with his clear hazel eyes. Wiping his lips with his forearm he smiled and let out a tiny burp, “‘scuse me.” That scamp is flirting with me again. It had always been harmless enough but, for the first time, she felt butterflies in her stomach. Feeling flustered she got up and went to the sink, running water to do the breakfast dishes.

Surveying her legs he mused, “Ya know Ms. W; I’ve noticed that you’ve been wearing skirts more often lately.” With her back to him, she felt his eyes scoping her bottom. “I like you better in skirts.” She turned slightly to admonish him, her cheeks tingeing pink. “Shows off your sexy legs,” he said, holding up the milk glass in a toast.

She didn’t know why Corey’s actions made her recall Amanda’s first act in seducing her after Bridge that day and felt silly saying, “You’re such a flatterer Corey Firestone.” She remembered how strongly Amanda had encouraged her to wear skirts more often, “ ... shows off your beautiful legs Mary,” she’d said. After that, she wore them every day. She liked the looks that men at the grocery store gave her. Even though Corey was so young it turned her on that he thought so too.

“Something’s different about you lately, Mrs. W,” he said. “You seem younger.”

“Oh?” she responded, “maybe it’s just that since Lee has gone to college I feel less of a sense of um, parental responsibility.” Both Lee and Corey were attending Cal State Fullerton on a baseball scholarship and were home for the holiday.

Ogling her from head to toe he said, “I think it’s something else.” As he got out of his chair and put the milk back in the refrigerator, he continued appraising her. The young man’s scrutiny made her feel both uncomfortable and inquisitive—his gazes were certainly suggestive. Though she liked them she didn’t think it was appropriate to encourage him. At the same time, she didn’t want him to stop.

“Mom says you and she have been spending a lot of time together. She likes you Mrs. W ... a lot.”

Mary’s throat tightened at the remote thought that he could know about Amanda and her. Allowing that Corey was a precocious boy, one who never suppressed a question no matter how it came out. But when he said that his mother told him they were spending more time together she felt trapped. Frustrated she plunged her hands into the warm dishwater. It was déjà vu. Just like his mother did that first day Corey walked up behind her, put his arms between hers, laid his head against her neck, and cupped her breasts, pressing them to her chest. What in the world is going on? Dumbfounded she thought, oh please Lord. Here she was with her best friend’s son, and he was fondling her breasts. The church lady inside told her to stop him. But the sexual woman kept the church lady at bay. Finally, she wiggled away and with and said with an astonished voice, “What in the world can you be THINKING, Corey Firestone?” Without answering he backed her into the corner, kissed the side of her neck, and put his hand on her left breast. Electricity shot to the pit of her gut, making her knees weak. “Corey, PLEASE,” she begged in a weak but desperate voice.

He echoed her question, “What has gotten into me?” and answered, “Since the first time I walked into your house Mrs. W I’ve had these um ... feelings.”

Mary was trying not to push her hips into his or wiggle her bottom which was begging to writhe. Desperately she tried to stay cool and jibed, “You seem to have a lot of self-confidence for a boy not yet twenty, Mr. Corey Firestone.”

“Well maybe, Mrs. W, that’s because I’ve been taught by an expert.”

Denying that he could be talking about her friend his mother she tried to imagine who he could be referring to. He was so cool, so much in control. It was hard for Mary, a forty-two-year-old woman, to imagine that this young man—not even 20—was trying to seduce her. “She’s a woman just about the same age as you are.” The way he said it as he tenderly rolled her nipple began to quickly melt the ice of her defenses. Reaching her bottom with his other hand he pulled her against him, pushing so that she could feel the large bulge in his pants. She hadn’t felt that kind of hardness since the early years of her marriage. She recalled how incredibly hard her son Lee had been when she saw him masturbating that day. Young men! She almost blurted out.

As Corey’s bulge pressed against her it was as if electrodes had been activated and were zapping her erogenous zones. “Corey,” she implored, “please don’t.” Making a feeble attempt to turn and break free she said, “We can’t do this Corey, PLEASE.” That her best friend’s son had come over to seduce her was surreal. But his mother had done the same thing. She had shocked Mary Wilhelm, a devoted Christian and respected member of the community into the realization that she’d been living with a fire that had been banked inside her, a fire that when fanned burst into raging flames. Sweet Jesus, how can I stop him?

What was going on between her and Amanda was something she would never have conceived. Had someone told her that two women—church women no less—would engage in such sexual taboo she would’ve been the first to cast a stone. Since it had happened though, her passion for Amanda and sex, in general, had become as close to addiction as she could imagine. But she had to admit that since her sexual relationship with Amanda began even sex with her husband had improved—her doing rather than Arthur’s. Overall, her state of being had been heightened and enhanced. The downside was the wicked thoughts she had for her son, thoughts that had grown and were striving for acceptability. Once again, a wave of guilt washed over her.

She’d confided to Amanda how she watched Lee masturbate and had been living with a fantasy of having sex with him. Even though her friend said she understood Mary wasn’t sure she did. Were the words she said genuine? Or has Amanda merely been pretending to be understanding and accepting? Standing in the corner of the kitchen with her best friend’s son, his erection pushing through his pants against her, filled her with a sense of panic. That Amanda might find out about it struck her with horror. She pushed hard against Corey’s chest and said, “No!” trying to wriggle away. “What would your mother think?”

“My mother?” He said it like he was contemplating what her thoughts of him might be. “Is there any reason for my mother to know?” He pushed harder against her and kissed her neck and ear, trying to force his hand between her legs. When she struggled, he backed off a little only to move back in and press harder. When he grabbed her crotch she thought, is he trying to rape me? The word rape caused her to wish that he would. What could she do against such a powerfully built young man? TAKE ME she silently begged. Instead, Corey backed off.

Gently, he put his hands on her shoulders and looked tenderly into her eyes. She was trapped, caught in the current of a stream that was too powerful for her to escape. It was like she was being punished by God who had sent the Devil to ravish her. Though she couldn’t shake them Mary hated herself for her thoughts about her son. And here she was with a young man who was so much like her son, a young man whom she had grown to love like a son. They were alone. There’s no chance of being caught she thought. He was offering what she had been craving so much from her son. She felt helpless. One last time she looked at him, her eyes pleading with him to put off his intentions. But when Corey tenderly sandwiched her face between his hands, he looked so hungry that it brought tears to her eyes and he said, “But Mrs. W I’ve been dreaming about this since the first time we met.” He kissed her forehead; the tip of her nose then planted his softened lips on hers. As he broke the kiss, he riveted her with his clear, hazel eyes and implored, “This will be just our secret, okay Mrs. W?”

She knew she couldn’t resist. I’m such a slut. Her lips met his and opened to his probing tongue. As his hand clutched her pussy through her skirt and panties, she grabbed the bulk of his cock and let out a primal moan. Having read the story of Pandora and The Flying Dutchman she knew that Pandora’s Box was being opened. Oh Lord, forgive me. Their mouths were open, their tongues swirling around each other. Breathing loudly through their noses they groped. Mary fumbled with Corey’s zipper then thrust her hand inside his boxers, the bulk of his warm, huge cock. His knees and his hips recoiled at her touch and he his flexed his hardness in her hand.

Looking down to see it Mary imagined how it would feel stretching the ring of her pussy and pushing inside her accepting vagina. Her comment astonished him, “Well, young man this is quite a nice piece of equipment you have here.” It was like a demon inside her that was doing the talking. His cock was so hard that it was canted upward, bobbing up and down to the beat of his heart. I should take a closer look.

“Geez, Mrs. W,” he said, his eyes wide in disbelief, “I didn’t know if you would go for it.” Though the thought should’ve been an insult to a normal woman Mary Wilhelm thought go for it? I want to feel this thick piece of manhood inside me, fucking my brains out. Lowering herself to her knees beneath the prominence of his erect organ she looked up. His delighted face was looking down at hers. Entranced by the beauty and vitality of his young sex she held his hot flesh against her cheek, feeling the coursing of his blood that was keeping it so erect, feeling his blood whooshing through this marvelous anatomical design.