Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Incest, Mother, Son, .
Desc: Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - a young man and his stepmother further their relationship
My dad met my stepmother when I was sixteen. He sat beside her on one of those long, middle-of-the night flights across the country where you either sleep the whole five hours or there's something so major eating away at you inside that it's impossible to sleep. Cassie had just signed divorce papers and was leaving her husband of nine years, and being terrified of flying anyhow, that was what occupied her mind. She was occupying my dad's.
I don't remember my real mother. Within a year after my younger brother Chris was born, she and Dad split up. Supposedly she couldn't handle the responsibility of a baby and a two-year old. Dad never talked much about her except to call her "the biggest mistake he'd never repeat". We didn't even have pictures of her. I never felt we were missing anything.
So Dad raised us on his own. I never really thought about what kind of man he was until it was too late to appreciate him. To us, he was just Dad. But when I think back, he was strong, very stable, dependable, hardworking. He gave us his good ethics - for the most part - good morals, and he set a good example. It's hard to admit, but I suppose good locks ran in the family too. He was 6'2, 195, solid, healthy, and always had a good tan because we were always outside involved in some kind of sport. Thank God he had a full head of salt and pepper hair. The longer he kept his, the better off I would be!
I was already 5'11 when I was seventeen, people said I was a carbon copy of my Dad with a little filling out left to do. I never had any problems getting a girl in school, they seemed to like the way I looked and that was good enough for me. My brother Chris must've gotten more of my mom's looks. He wouldn't ever be as tall and his hair was lighter than ours. Secretly, I thought he looked better then me, but I'd never tell him that.
Dad had a few dates here and there but rarely ever had a steady girlfriend. I asked him once - I think I'd been afraid he was gay or something - and he told me there wasn't time in life to deal with the headgames women play. He had taught us to treat women with respect and nearly old-fashioned chivalry, but also that we didn't have to put up with the bullshit. He wanted to make his life, raise his sons, be financially secure, then he'd worry about finding a woman.
So no one was more surprised than I was when we went out to celebrate his forty-third birthday and he brought a woman to meet us.
He'd told us about meeting a girl on his last flight home from Los Angeles and he'd been out with her a few times since then, but we knew better than to take any of his flings seriously. And now he wanted us to meet her?? I didn't know whether to be happy or worried for him.
I was amazed when we picked her up. She lived in this tiny little house in an older section of town. Granted, the area was immaculate, but I'd been under the impression that no one under retirement age was even allowed to visit there. I found out later that she'd come to stay with her grandparents while her divorce was being settled.
Dad left us in the back of the car while he went up to knock on her front door. I couldn't remember ever seeing him so excited. Chris and I joked about it, right up until Cassie stepped out onto the porch.
She was gorgeous! Long blonde hair down nearly to her waist, clear, tanned skin that looked like it glowed from the inside, perfect figure in a form-fitting red tunic dress. She was tiny, at first I didn't think she looked old enough to be out of school yet. It would have shocked me if she was even an inch over 5ft and she had to be younger than Chris.
"He's flipped," I said whispered to Chris as they headed towards the car.
"She's fucking hot!" was all he could say.
Dad opened the passenger door and helped her in. There was a clean, soft smell immediately filling the car - not perfumy, but just... I don't know, nice.
As Dad walked around to the driver's side, she turned sideways in her seat and looked back at us. I've seen all kinds of looks on women from nervous to bitchy, but she looked out of her eyes differently. She didn't look at us like she might be worried we wouldn't like her and she didn't look at us like we might be rivals for our Dad's attention, but she didn't seem snotty about it either. Instead, she seemed completely comfortable with the situation, completely comfortable with who she was and where she stood in life. That kind of look was like an aphrodisiac.
"Hi," she said smoothly, "I'm Cassie."
No one had ever made me feel as unsettled as those first few moments. Not even when our regular doctor was out of town and the LADY doctor had to give me a physical for basketball one year. Cassie was an unknown quantity and all I could do was kinda stammer back, "Hi, I'm Keith." Chris had bug-eyes and I elbowed him in the ribs to get him to shut his jaw.
Dad got in and reintroduced us all. Maybe he thought he'd finally found one who didn't feel the need for all the games.
We went to an Italian restaurant and wound up staying for more than two hours. She put us all at ease and we were soon laughing and joking like we'd known each other for years. I wondered if that was what it felt like to have a mom? She was quiet, but charming and bitingly witty. She could speak volumes with her eyes alone and I tried to catch all the little looks she gave my Dad. She deferred respectfully to him in every way and always looked at him with nothing short of pure adoration.
After diner, we saw a movie, a silly comedy that I barely watched. Instead, I watched the interaction between Dad and Cassie. He kept his arm around her almost the entire time and she stayed snuggled up to him as if he was protecting her from something. It was very odd because at times, she seemed like such a strong, capable young woman and other times, she actually seemed to be shy, uncertain little girl. She was young, yes... compared to Dad. She was only 26, but her eyes held a lot of experience. Dad loved the attention he was getting. I knew he wanted someone who would depend on him and let him lead but who was also capable of standing on her own two feet when necessary. He seemed to believe this was a rare combination and hard to find but I believed he'd finally found it and it was sitting right here with its pretty blonde head on his shoulder.
They married a few months later and he took her to London and Paris for the honeymoon. We got left behind with our Uncle Paul.
When they came back, she moved into our family house that we'd lived in all our lives. I guess we were rich by most standards - we'd never gone without anything, and the house was huge. Five bedrooms, four bathrooms, all kinds of playrooms and dens, immense white columns outside. It's just that when you grow up in it, you don't really notice it. And when Cassie moved in, nothing really changed except the house stayed a little cleaner.
Life went on. Usually we called her Cassie, sometimes we slipped up and called her mom. She never felt jealous (or at least didn't show it) of all the time Dad put in with us. We were sports nuts, everyone that came along, every season. I was captain of the football team when I was a senior and Chris was already playing junior varsity. Dad was active in the booster clubs and he still worked a few hours a day at his job.
He and Cassie loved each other. He pampered her so much that we sometimes thought it was silly. She adored him, he became her whole world and we were all happy.
I graduated from high school at eighteen like most people and spent my last summer at home bumming around. I'd been accepted to the University of Florida at Gainesville on a football scholarship and although it was only a three-hour drive from home, I wasn't all that enthusiastic about leaving. Yeah, it was time to grow up, I knew, and I had no doubts I could take care of myself, but home was really a fun place to be.
Halfway through that last summer, Dad announced that we were going to take a last family vacation together. To me, that sounded kind of ominous and I knew he only meant that I was grown up now, but it just felt wrong. He took off work, Cassie didn't work except for some free-lance illustrating and writing now and then and we left for three weeks at Disney World.
I have to admit, it was great. My worries disappeared as we spent every day roaming all over Disney World, Epcot, Universal Studios, and even a day trip over to the coast to hit the beach at Daytona. (On those days, I took Chris around bragging about the things I'd done down here on spring break.)
Two weeks into the vacation, a tropical storm turned into a hurricane down around Cuba. It started moving rapidly north.
Cassie seemed the most worried. She wanted to cut the trip short and head north, but the three of us did not. She wouldn't argue with Dad, she decided to just trust him. In concession though, he agreed to stay inland for the duration.
We were in our hotel room when the storm hit. We'd expected some wind and rain but it continued to grow stronger. It wasn't long before the power went out. One of the bellboys came through telling everyone to evacuate to the shelter in the basement.
Though Cassie never said "I told you so" as we rushed down the crowded stairs, Dad apologized and said he should've listened to her.
The hotel had a large, mostly empty storeroom under the first basement that was designated a storm shelter, that's where we all headed. The stairs were poorly lit and we clutched each other's clothing to stay together. Outside, we could hear things crashing around and the incredible roaring of the wind.
The basement was crowded and stuffy and we were given sandwiches and drinks. It was dark and there was nowhere to sit but on the floor. Someone had brought a battery-powered radio down and through the static, we found out that the hurricane had made an unexpected turn inland and was bearing down on us full force.
The roaring grew louder over our heads until we couldn't even hear ourselves talk. Cassie was uncharacteristically terrified and she sat up against Dad with her face buried under his arm.
Suddenly the unexpected happened. The ceiling above our heads began to creak and groan. Everyone went immediately silent, looking up in dread at the sound of boards beginning to split, metal groaning. The shower of plaster was small at first, everyone tried to scramble but there was nowhere to scramble to. I thought selfishly of luggage and souvenirs we'd left in our room, now blowing away like trash. I was glad that Dad had thought to make us bring all the important stuff with us - ID's, the traveler's checks, money.
Then it collapsed. Sounds around us were deafening. Dad leapt up, dragging Cassie with him, and shoved us all flat against the side wall. People all around us were screaming in fear, and now in pain as huge chunks of concrete fell in on top of us. Just before the last light went out, I saw a man running across the spot where Chris had just been sitting. An unbelievably huge metal beam crushed him as I watched.
We stayed pressed against the wall and each other for what seemed an eternity. It was completely dark but the roaring sound eventually tapered off. There were still people shouting and crying all around us and the sound of glass breaking, but the scariest sound of all now was the same kind of low creaking as if something extremely heavy was balanced in a horribly unsafe way.
"It didn't all fall," Dad whispered, recognizing the sound. He'd been a structural engineer for most of his life and I trusted him to know what he was talking about. "We've got to get out of here before we are crushed!"
"How?" Cassie asked, panic very apparent in her voice.
"I can see light," Chris said, his first words in a long time.
"Where?" Dad asked and Chris got him looking in the right direction. There was the faintest blue/white glow far above us and a little to our left.
"Where are your keys, sweetheart?" he asked Cassie.
"In my purse," she answered. "I've got it." He'd insisted that she not leave it behind in the room. We could hear her fumbling in it and then the rattle of keys as her hand grasped them. Some time ago, Dad had found a powerful but tiny superbright LED flashlight keychain for her and it had come in handy more than once, but never as much as this.
Dad shone it all around us and we could see how fortunate we were that he'd made us move up against a supporting wall. I'd never seen a dead person before but now they were all around us.
"We need to help," Cassie began, seeming to look around at them in a daze.
Dad cut her off. "We will look for help after we find out way out first."
She nodded, her wide beautiful eyes peering around in disbelief.
"Up here!" Dad called from a few feet away. We rushed to catch up with him and looked up the length of the beam. The light had come down a seemingly straight shaft through the debris. Warm rain fell on our faces from the black sky.
"Kevin, you go up first," he instructed me. "Remember your path so you can help guide them out. When you are all safe, I'll look around down here and see if I can send more people up."
"No!" Cassie cried. "I'm not leaving you down here!"
In the most stern voice I'd ever heard him use with her, Dad said quietly, "You will do exactly what I tell you."
I expected her to protest, knowing her personality, but in the shadow of the tiny flashlight, I saw her bite her lip and a shiver pass through her little body.
"Start climbing," he told me and began to point our a good route. "Go slow. Check before you put your weight on something, you remember the climbing we did last year. Don't grab hold of something loose."
"Yes Sir." I was afraid but I knew I could do what he was telling me. The hole was probably less than two stories deep so I took a deep breath and began. It got easier the higher I got, everything I grabbed seemed firm and I found myself out in the open in a matter of minutes.
"It's okay," I shouted down to them. Chris was already on his way up so I paused to look around. Most of the hotel was simply gone. In fact, most of the structures around it were gone. Emergency crews were running about everywhere and I yelled to get somebody to come over and help.
Chris made it up as easily as I had and I could barely see in the dim light Dad sending Cassie up. She paused and threw her arms around his neck, then let go and started to climb. I could see her eyes as she looked up and see tears glittering on her cheeks.
She was about three quarters of the way up when the debris pile under our feet started to shift. Maybe it was from the weight of the rescuers walking on it. I stumbled, trying to keep my feet under me while I tried to watch what was happening down the shaft. Something large turned loose halfway down and fell towards Cassie. It hit her left shoulder. She screamed and I was afraid she had fallen but someone shoved me out of the way.
"Hold on, Miss!" the fireman called down. He was tying a rope around his middle and two of his buddies were preparing to lower him into the hole. I managed to get back close enough to peer in and see him catch Cassie around the waist. I could see a blossom of blood covering the shoulder. With horror, I realized I couldn't see anything past her. Dad's light had been extinguished.
"David!" Cassie was screaming now, struggling in her rescuer's arms to see what was going on below. She called his name over and over until they had her up and were putting her on a stretcher.
"Wait!" she begged the fireman, then called my name.
Dad had taken the flashlight off her keychain and she pressed the keys into my hand. "If you can find the car," she explained, then tried to argue with the paramedics that they couldn't take her away, she had to take care of her children.
"She'll be at St. Francis," the man told me. "You can find her there."
I nodded and tried to get Cassie to calm down. I told her I wouldn't leave until they had Dad up and safe. I begged her to stop fighting and let them take care of her.
"We'll wait for Dad, then we'll come to you."
She seemed to accept with one final warning. "Stay together!"
I nodded and promised her that we would.
"I love you both!" she cried out as they shoved the stretcher into the ambulance.
Five hours passed before they could dig down deep enough to get to the people in the basement. I knew that Cassie was probably going crazy, not knowing what was going on. I was about to lose my mind and I was watching every move they made. I found out later that they'd had to sedate Cassie when she tried to leave the hospital and come back. It took thirty-seven stitches to sew up her arm and shoulder.
They pulled fourteen people up from the basement before Dad. Eleven of them were dead. Chris and I both rushed to the stretcher they put him on and had to fight to stay beside him. I finally yelled, "He's our father!" at one of the medics trying to push us away.
I couldn't help but cry when I got close to him. I thought he was dead. There was dried blood and concrete dust covering him so much that I could hardly recognize him. Fresh blood oozed from a deep chest wound.
Both Chris and I leaned in close. He told us that he loved us, that he'd held on as long as he could just to make sure we were okay.
"Cassie?" he whispered.
"She's okay too, Dad. They took her to the hospital a long time ago."
He nodded and coughed, blood frothing at his lips.
"Take care of her, Keith," he told me. "She's such a child."
"Dad," I whined like a little kid myself, "Don't talk like that! You'll be okay!"
"Promise me," he said urgently. His eyes sought my face but I don't think he could even see me anymore.
"I will," I promised. "Please Dad, please hold on..."
"I love you both," he breathed heavily, his voice barely a whisper. "You made me so proud..." His last breath whistled out of his damaged lungs like a sigh lost on the wind. Chris started to sob loudly and I let go of Dad's hand and embraced my brother.
I suppose we were both in shock because I don't much remember what happened right after that. I don't remember where they said they were taking Dad's body. I don't know how long we sat and cried before someone asked us if they could help us. I shook my head and thought about looking for the car. Strangely enough, the damage to the hotel had blown in the opposite direction and the parking lot was barely damaged. Aside from some dings and dents, the SUV was fine. It just didn't seem fair.
"We have to tell Cassie," Chris said as we sat in the vehicle. I looked at him, seeing the misery in his eyes and knew they matched my own. I felt suddenly like I had to be strong for everyone.
Cassie wasn't in any condition to make decisions but she kept her head long enough to tell me to call our Uncle Paul. Paul flew down that morning, made the arrangements for Dad's body to be brought home and then he drove us home. He took care of the funeral details and his wife Deborah took care of us. They stayed with us for a week until everything was settled with the insurance company and the will.
Dad had more money than any of us had suspected and Cassie would be well taken care of. She'd never have to worry about money for the rest of her life and most likely, we wouldn't either. We both had trust funds set aside for our twenty-second birthdays. He'd made sure we'd get through college and grow up a little bit before getting that much money.
The morning after Paul and Deborah left, I went into the kitchen very early and found Cassie sitting there in the cold darkness. When I flicked on the light, I saw how haggard and worn her face looked. Her yes were sunk deep into their sockets and her slender cheeks were now like dark hollows. She seemed to be staring down at the empty table.
I started some coffee and sat down opposite her.
She smiled weakly at me and thanked me for being so strong through all this. I hadn't felt particularly strong but I shrugged. I worried about her but wasn't sure how to tell her. The first thing to my mind was, "Honey, you look like shit," but I held that back.
"You'll be leaving soon," she said flatly. I was due to start school two weeks from today.
"Yeah," I wished the coffee would get done quickly so I'd have something to do with my hands.
"I need to talk to you about something," she said seriously. "I've been thinking about it but I can't do it unless you and Chris agree."
She'd piqued my curiosity. "Go on."
I could see she was distraught. She stood and paced, almost wringing her hands. "I don't think I can stay here any longer."
"What?" I was afraid she meant to leave me and Chris.
"This house," she opened her arms and gestured all around her. "I can't stay here. There's too much emptiness without him. I can't sleep in that bed." She had been sleeping in one of the guest rooms.
I must've been visibly relieved to hear it was only that.
She continued. "I know this has been your home your whole life and I can't just ask you to leave it."
"What are you wanting exactly?" I asked.
"To sell this place and buy a smaller house. You'll be away and it'll just be me and Chris and there's so much room here and..."
I interrupted because she seemed almost frantic. "Cassie, ssh... sit down. You want me to say it's okay to sell the house?"
"I know it's a lot for me to ask," she said, "And if you two don't want me to, I won't. We'll just keep it till one of you is old enough to take it and I'll just move somewhere else."
The coffee gurgled it's last drop and I stood up to pour us both a cup. She finally sat back down in her chair and slumped forward on her elbows as if just saying that took a great load off her mind.
I put her cup in front of her and sat again. I'd never considered what she was saying.
Chris wandered in, grabbed a box or cereal, milk, and a bowl and sat across from me. "What's going on?" he asked.
Cassie looked to me to tell him, probably thinking it wouldn't seem like such a betrayal if it came from me. So I presented the idea to him.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked around the familiar kitchen. I was afraid he'd lash out at her in anger.
"It's a good idea," he said finally. "Every time I turn my head, I expect to see Dad coming around the corner. I think it would hurt less somewhere else."
With a sigh of relief, Cassie actually smiled. She reached over and patted Chris' hand. "Thank you so much." She realized I hadn't given an answer yet and she turned expectantly to me.
I considered things. I loved this house. I'd lived in it longer than either of them. I'd hoped to raise a family in it someday. There were special things that Dad and I had built, or added on to all through the place. But then, looking at Chris and Cassie's faces, I realized I would be the one escaping the constant reminder of Dad's absence. They would be the ones left here in pain. I couldn't be that unfair to them.
"It's okay," I said and actually got two genuine smiles.
That afternoon we actually began the search and by the following week, we'd found one we all three agreed on. It was right on the beach, with a huge yard running down to the white sand. The whole back of it facing the water was glass - from the master bedroom, across the large country kitchen, the end of the big living room and even what would be my room on the back end. There was a deck that stretched all the way across the back were we could cook out or sit out and watch the sunsets. There was still a room for our workout equipment and a little office off the master bedroom for Cassie's writing and drawing. We got the closing done and set to move in the weekend I was going to leave. I'd be around to get my room settled on Saturday and I'd leave on Sunday.
It had been a fairly easy move with the movers helping to load and unload, but we'd strategically left all of Dad's things in the old house. Chris had taken a few special things to keep and he had stayed at the new place. Cassie and I faced the daunting task of packing up his things for a friend of ours to come pick up.
When it was all over and everything was packed except for the few things we wanted to keep to remember him by, we were both crying. The friend came, loaded up the boxes and left us with words of consolation, but it didn't help much. We walked through the empty house together as if saying goodbye. I held her hand, not sure if I was trying to reassure or be reassured. In the living room, after we turned all the power off and locked everything up tight, Cassie opened the front door to leave.
Suddenly she started to sob. I could only get enough from her to realize she was remembering Dad carrying her over the threshold. I put my arms around her and held her tightly but the ferocity of her cries scared me. I closed the door and turned to her.
"Cassie," I tried to speak to her, tried to get her attention, but she wouldn't stop. Or couldn't stop. Finally, in my frustration, I shouted sternly, "Cassie, stop this right now!" She froze in my arms and slowly looked up at me.
It suddenly occurred to me what she had responded to. The same way I'd seen her react to Dad on the night he'd died.
Her eyes had glazed over and I didn't think she was really seeing me. The intimate way I was holding her, the way I'd spoken to her. She was searching my face for her David.
I shook my head slowly. She reached up and caressed my cheek. "David?" she whispered.
There was so much pain in her eyes, so much hope that Dad was back, that I didn't know what to do.
"Cassie," I tried to pull away from her, but I couldn't.
"David?" her voice was that same little girl's whine I'd heard before.
I felt the tears welling up inside me and I clutched her to my chest, holding her as tight as I could. Maybe she'd calm down and come back to her senses.
But she didn't. I felt her hands moving over my chest, my upper arms. She made small mewling sounds, sighs, breathy whispers. She began to rub her body against mine.
"Cassie," I pushed her face away from my chest but she only rose up on her toes and pulled my face down towards hers, pressing her lips to mine.
I felt myself responding despite my feelings of how wrong this was. I'd looked at her in lust many times. I'd whacked off thinking about her naked for two years now, but this just wasn't right.
Finally I pushed her away roughly and nearly shouted in her face, "I'm not David! I'm Keith, dammit!"
She blinked several times and wiped her hands across her face as if to wipe away an illusion.
"Make love to me," she whispered in an almost pleading tone.
"Cassie, I'm not Dad," I said sadly.
She put her hands over her ears and shouted, "Shut up!" shaking her head back and forth.
I grabbed her and held her again, wanting only to calm her. She whispered again, "Make love to me. I need you."
I shook my head sadly and started to protest again but she put a finger to my lips and said imploringly, "Please Keith."
That was all it took. She knew who I was. She knew what she wanted and needed and dammit, I could use a little of that closeness too. I pulled her aggressively and kissed her hard, pushing my tongue deep into her mouth. I lowered her to the thick carpet in the middle of the living room floor and continued to kiss her. As our lips ground together, we ripped each other's clothes off, headless of buttons and zippers. I was on top of her, not holding my weight off her but wrapping her up in both arms, crushing her full length to me. When I entered her, she cried out and clung to me, her arms around my neck so hard it was almost painful.
As I moved slowly in and out of her, her legs circled my waist and there was no way that two people could be any closer than we were at that moment. It was the first time in my life that I realized sex could mean something besides just wanting to cum.
As she orgasmed, she clawed my shoulders until blood run. I know that I growled when I came and it was probably the most intense feeling of my life. All the thoughts of how wrong this was, of the sadness that I was feeling at leaving my home, the grief I felt for my father, the pure lust I had for Cassie, all that mixed up my emotions into something I didn't know how to deal with. We didn't let go of one another for a long time, even as I softened and felt myself slip out of her. We cried and held tightly as if our sanity depended on touching each other. I don't know how long we would have stayed that way if my cell phone had not rang and jarred us back to reality.
I rolled away to answer it and Cassie jumped up, grabbed her clothes and ran to the hall bathroom.
It was Chris, wondering what was taking so long. I made some excuse, wiped my eyes, and dressed. Cassie didn't show any signs of coming out of the bathroom and after I'd paced the living room several times, I tapped lightly on the door.
She opened it, fully dressed, and came out, still dabbing at her eyes.
"Ready?" I asked solemnly, unsure of what to say. That should not have happened.
She nodded and we went out to my truck. All the way to the new house, we didn't speak. It wasn't really uncomfortable, but I wished that she would tell me how she felt.
When I parked and started to get out of the truck, I felt her hand on my arm, so I sat back and pulled the door closed. I searched her sad, pretty face for any hints.
"I'm sorry," she said. "For putting you in that position. It was very selfish of me. I'm very ashamed of myself."
Well, that wasn't exactly what I'd expected but it made sense.
"Don't be sorry," I said. "I needed it too. To be close."
"It can't happen again," she said, almost as much to herself as to me.
I nodded. "No one will know it happened but us. Just please promise me one thing."
"Don't let it change things between us. I love you and I want to be close to you the way we've always been."
She nodded now and tried to smile. "Good, I was so afraid I'd messed that up."
"Never," I assured her and leaned over to give her an innocent kiss on her cheek.
I went off to college. I turned nineteen. I grew up some more. I came home a couple of weekends and the only difference I noticed in my relationship with Cassie was that she didn't treat me like a kid anymore. She spoke to me like an equal, she asked my opinions in important matters. We didn't speak of that time in our old house but then we were never alone or given the opportunity. I'm not sure what she thought about it, or if she thought about it, but she called me on the phone quite often, just to talk. For my part, I thought about her all the time. I dreamed about her, I fantasized about her, I undressed her over and over again in my mind. Every girl I had sex with was her.
In mid-November, I surprised her by coming home early on homecoming weekend at Chris' school, the same school I had graduated from only months before. I got to the house around ten in the morning and let myself in. She must've heard someone come in and, not expecting anyone, she was alarmed.
I heard her call from her end of the house, "Chris? Is that you? What are you doing home from school?"
I stayed silent and crept towards her room.
"Chris?" she called again, a little more warily.
Her voice came from her bathroom and the door was open. I heard water splash and should have just stopped there and identified myself. But I was happy to be home and in a playful mood, so instead, I jumped around the corner into the bathroom with my arms spread wide and shouted, "Mom!"
She screamed and then I was hit solidly in the face with a dripping bath cloth. "Keith!" she yelled at me, "You scared the life out of me!"
I couldn't help but laugh and toss the cloth back to her, walking towards the huge garden tub. It was as big as a jacuzzi and two steps led up into it. She always had a passion for long, soaking baths. And it wasn't lost on me that she hadn't immediately ordered me out.
"Uhhh..." she raised her eyebrows at me suspiciously as if to ask, "What do you think you are doing in my bathroom while I'm naked?" She didn't look angry though, so I decided to push my luck.
"Just thought you could use someone to scrub your back," I suggested. I felt more sure of myself lately, maybe confidence that had come from being out on my own. Sorta.
"Well," she started a bit uncertainly, "Interesting timing you have." Maybe she noticed a change too. I could only see her bare shoulders and the gentle curve of the top of her small breasts. I wanted desperately to see the rest hidden by the bubbles.
"Well?" I prompted her boldly.
"I guess I could use a good back wash, she admitted in a low voice.
I started to pull off the sweatshirt and t-shirt I'd worn and at the same time, kick off my sneakers. I noticed her staring at me for just a second before she quickly and shyly turned away. I'd pumped up while I was away, to get in better shape for the rough football in college. I smiled to myself and grew more daring, sliding off my jeans and shorts and climbing into the tub behind her.
"Wha... ?" she had not expected this at all.
"This tub's so big I couldn't reach you from over there." I took the cloth from her hand and began to rub slowly up and down her back.
"But..." she clearly didn't know what to say.
I stopped, leaned forward to put my chin on her shoulder and whispered, "It's okay, I'm a big boy now."
"Sssh," I said softly, "If you want me to get out and leave you alone, just tell me and I will. If you've thought about me one tenth as much as I've thought about you, then tell me to stay. No one ever has to know but us."
For a few moments, she was silent and I could almost hear the wheels turning in her mind. I was afraid she was going to throw me out. But then in the barest whisper, she said, "Stay." I took that to mean carte blanche.
I didn't just jump her bones all of a sudden like I really wanted to. Instead, I found the soap and continued to gently wash her back. She sighed with pleasure as I dumped hot water over her shoulders to rinse her. Then without speaking, I wet her hair with water cupped in my palms and began to lather it up with her strawberry-scented shampoo. I massaged her scalp until she practically moaned and then I rinsed it with the sprayer.
When it was clean, I leaned back against the inclined tub and pulled Cassie back against me. My hands reaching over her shoulders, I traced the slippery skin down below the waterline. I'd not had a chance for foreplay before with her, but now I took all the time I wanted, cupping her breasts in my hands, kneading them, feeling the nipples getting urgently hard. And speaking of hard, I was cultivating titanium. I knew she could feel me pressing into her back.
I leaned forward and began to kiss the back of her neck. She smelled so clean and sweet. Her skin tasted faintly of caramel and I ached to be inside her. I'd been with a dozen or so girls in the last few months but only craved Cassie. I vaguely wondered if she'd had sex with anyone while I'd been way. If she hadn't, had she taken care of her urges alone? Masturbating, maybe thinking of me?