Chapter 3

I awoke to bright sunshine streaming through the window, heralding a glorious new day. It was almost ten o’clock and the house was empty. I showered, ate a leisurely breakfast and then started work but I couldn’t concentrate. My thoughts kept wandering back to the previous night, the most erotic night of love-making I had ever experienced. I was so thankful that I hadn’t confronted Jeff. I knew I would treasure this secret experience for the rest of my life but I had to ensure it was never repeated. The weakness I had shown that night was banished from my psyche and replaced with a new resolve.

I prepared an early supper. Jeff was due home by four and I wanted us to have one last dinner alone before his father returned that evening. I would miss the quiet evenings with Jeff and I was already looking forward to Stefan’s next trip. Although I would be apprehensive about being alone with Jeff I also knew he would eventually come to grips with the fact that his secret amorous evenings with me were over. I would no longer drink his tea, or anything else he prepared without supervision. He would be disappointed that his adventure was over, and in a way, I would be sad too.

I made Jeff’s favorite meal. I wore a short, loosely pleated skirt that afforded him one last visual treat as we ate our dinners sitting on the stools at the counter. I wasn’t being cruel. I was trying to let him down easy. What harm would it do if, now and then, I let my son peruse my legs and even peek up my skirt to see my panties? Stefan would be home soon; there was no danger. My mood soured momentarily, then brightened. Still time, I thought, to give Jeff one last show on the couch.

“I’m going to read until your father comes home. We can clean up after.”

I bounced off the stool and walked into the living room expecting Jeff to follow but he didn’t. As I wiggled into a comfortable position, I heard him rinsing the dishes and loading the dishwasher. What a good kid. I sighed, and then a sudden naughty feeling overwhelmed me.

I put my book down and glanced toward the kitchen. Dishes were still banging around. I reached under my skirt with both hands and tugged my panties down to my thighs, then pushed them over my knees and off my feet. Quickly, I stashed them behind the cushion, deep into the bowels of the couch. I wiggled into a lower position and arranged my skirt properly into a more demure position than it had been. I waited, looking at my book but too excited to read a word.

Several minutes later the dishwasher started and Jeff joined me. He didn’t offer to make any tea; he knew his father would be home any minute and, picking up his book, settled into the loveseat. I knew the instant, less than a minute later, that he first glanced my way, eyes drawn to the back of my thighs under my raised knees.

I played about, flexing my feet and tensing the muscles in my legs, anything that would make them look pretty and sexy. Each time I curled my toes, I pictured his tongue licking my soles. I had just started using my finger to toy with the fleshiest part of my thigh when the phone rang. I looked into the kitchen, toward the phone, and then at Jeff. Normally, he would jump up to get it but he stayed still with the expression that always decorated his face when he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, the proverbial hand in the cookie jar. I realized, with private amusement, that my son couldn’t get up for a reason. My teasing had already excited him. As soon as I disappeared from his view into the kitchen my stomach muscles constricted and I bent over, no longer able to contain a laugh which I stifled with both hands. I hadn’t felt so much woman power for a long, long time.

“Yeah, yeah,” I sniped at the phone. “I’m coming.”

I picked it up. “Hello,” I barked.

“Erica?”

It was Stefan.

“Where are you?” I asked testily, though he wasn’t yet late. I don’t know why I felt suddenly angry.

“I can’t get home tonight. I’m really sorry but something came up at the last minute and I just can’t make it.”

Stefan went on to explain in detail. A new client had demanded a late afternoon meeting and it had carried over into dinner. Now he wanted to have a few drinks. He was going to be a big customer, Stefan continued. It might have to extend his next few trips by a day or two but it would be worth it. My tone softened as my husband’s platitudes sprinkled over my ears. After all, I wasn’t mad at him in the first place. In the end, I answered his ‘I love you’ with one of my own. They were so automatic after all these years, lacking the poignancy they once possessed.

It wasn’t until I was almost to the kitchen door that my subconscious bubbled to the surface. If he was in a business dinner with a client, why was romantic music playing in the background? Why would he be in a romantic hideaway restaurant with a client, and a guy at that? Something was wrong. All my suspicions about Stefan having an affair welled up, rushed through my neck and flooded my brain with bitterness. That bastard. He couldn’t bring himself to leave for home on time, he had to stay for one more fuck. The fucking prick.

I stomped through the kitchen door and plopped onto the couch, picking up my book and slamming it against my upraised knees, a grim look on my face.

“What’s the matter, Mom?”

I didn’t answer.

“Who was it? Was it Dad?”

“Yes,” I replied tersely.

“Is he ok?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Mom.”

“He’s not coming home tonight. He’s met a new client. They’re having dinner and a few drinks,” I spouted sarcastically.

“Mom, it’s his job.”

Jeff obviously wasn’t upset. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and immediately glanced away. His eyes were riveted on my thighs. I glanced down, below my book. Oh, dear. In my angry haste dropping onto the couch, my skirt had fallen almost to my hips. I hadn’t noticed when I slammed the book into my rising knees that my thighs were bare. Good God, I wasn’t wearing any panties!

What should I do? I couldn’t very well just tug my skirt up to cover myself. I kept my gaze rigidly on the book. Well, of course you can. You can’t very well sit here with your pussy hanging out. A teasing peek is one thing but a brazen, come-on display is quite another matter.

“You seem upset, Mom.”

I ignored him.

“Why don’t I make us some tea.” He voiced his query as a statement. “You know it relaxes you.”

Jeff waited for my reply as if he really had asked a question. I stared at my book. That bastard had the gall to call and say he was staying another night.

“Yes,” I finally replied, my voice still tinged with anger. “Why don’t you.”

I could have fixed my skirt while Jeff made the tea. I could have even dug out my panties and put them back on. But I did neither. I noted the surprise on his face when Jeff set my tea down on the coffee table. He must have thought that I was truly unaware of my display. Just as well. My tension eased. How quickly he had suggested his ‘tea’ after learning that his father wasn’t coming home. At least there was one man in this house that appreciated me.

I took several sips before my brain cried, ‘Stop.’

I made an excuse to go to the kitchen and managed to replace the remainder of my ‘tea’ with the cold supply I had put in the juice container hidden in back of the pot cupboard. I returned to the couch and sat down more carefully, arranging my skirt in a more motherly fashion.

I should be okay. I’d only taken a few sips of the hot tea, barely more than half an inch from the mug. Not enough to matter. I decided to neither confront Jeff nor let him have his way. Tonight, I’d stay up to watch a movie by myself in my bedroom, leaving him to wonder why his concoction hadn’t worked. It was time to wean him from his new toy, whether his father was home or not. I looked at my son and smiled, feeling suddenly weary.

“I think I’ll go to bed and watch a chick flick,” I announced, immediately rising to my feet. Picking up my mug, I sauntered up the stairs. Half way up, I felt a little woozy but it quickly passed. I was fine.

The sweeping music was loud for a romantic movie, so loud I could hardly hear the actors speak. It was like they were far away and their voices floated toward me, distorted by something in the air that made everything look a little wavy. I tried to focus my senses, without success, and that was what pushed my logical mind toward the conclusion that I was dreaming. As the music receded and the voices became clearer, the volume diminished. I had fallen asleep. I opened my eyes.

Jeff was standing at the end of the bed, in his shorts, holding the remote. I could see the green volume indicator still falling on the TV. When it stopped, I could still hear the movie, but more as gentle background noise. Jeff set the remote on top of the TV and I shut my eyes before he turned around.

Why had I done that? Why didn’t I just say something to let him know I was awake? I tried to open my eyes, but couldn’t. I tried to speak and failed at that too.

I sensed Jeff by my side. His hand touched my cheek, then lifted to stroke my hair. He was fixing it, arranging it so it parted properly on one side with a long sweep of hair over to the other. His fingers then brushed it away from my eyes. I could picture the result, the right side falling to my shoulder and curling slightly in, while the rest swept over my head and swooped down to curl in on the left. Jeff’s fingertips trailed lightly across my forehead and down my cheek, under my chin and up the other cheek.

“So pretty,” he whispered.

Did he know I was awake?

I was about to open my eyes and thank him for the compliment when the blanket started falling away from my neck, down to my breasts and then over. Jeff whistled softly.

I had undressed and crawled into bed without putting on a nightie or pajamas. Now, why had I done that? I knew I was going to stay awake and that Jeff would probably come into my room. Had I subconsciously been seeking a thrill, knowing I would be naked under the covers while I bid my disappointed son good night? I had no other explanation. I was beginning to realize how dangerous my mixed up state of mind was but I didn’t stop Jeff from pulling the blanket lower. Slowly, it scraped over my tummy and down the gentle dip to my secret place.

“Jeez, Mom,” Jeff said. “Were you expecting Dad to get home tonight anyway?”

I felt a tickle there. Jeff was brushing his fingers over my pubic hair, arranging it like he’d down with my head. His delicate touch made my pussy tremble. Damn it. Stop him! But I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to ever find out that I knew what he’d done. I just wanted it to pass so I decided to act like I was waking up, hoping to scare him off. I tried to move but only twitched and, unfortunately, my accompanying fake waking sound turned into a quiet murmur.

“Well, your body’s expecting something, just like Jim said.”

Who the hell was Jim? One of his internet group?

“Yeah, look at that,” Jeff whispered.

His fingertip scratched up and down my slit and I moistened under his caress. I couldn’t help it.