Chapter 5

The next day was Friday but Stefan didn’t go into the office. He had to leave early for his next trip, on Saturday or Sunday, so he wanted to get a few things done around the house, things I’d been waiting ages for him to do. I guess he was trying to alleviate his guilt. I almost felt sorry for him, especially after my actions the previous night, until I thought about the real reason he needed to leave early.

Jeff arrived for breakfast just as Stefan was finishing his list.

“What’s up?” he asked, casting a glance at his father’s list.

“Your Dad isn’t going in today. He’s going to stay home to get a few things done.”

“Oh yeah?” Jeff steered away to the far end of the kitchen, filled the kettle and plugged it in.

“I could use your help if you’re not going to school,” Stefan said, noting that Jeff was still in his pajama bottoms.

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Jeff replied. “I was staying home to study.”

“Can’t you study tomorrow?” Stefan asked.

“School comes first,” I interjected.

“Yeah, yeah. College, smollege.” Stefan got up from the table. “Well, I better get started if I’m going to do it all on my own,” he complained.

Jeff sat down in Stefan’s place and poured himself a bowl of cereal while his father poured himself another cup of coffee instead of leaving to do his chores.

Leaning back against the counter, Stefan asked Jeff, “So what’s new with you lately, other than school? Any new girl friends?”

Jeff spluttered around the spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

“Yeah,” I chimed in. “You haven’t mentioned any girls since Stacy and it’s been ages since you brought her around,” I teased.

Jeff blushed. “I’m doing ok. Anyway, that topic is off limits,” he muttered.

Stefan laughed. “Oops. Struck a sore spot. Spending time with girls that aren’t the marrying kind, son? Sewing a few wild oats with the can’t-bring-her-home-to-meet-mother type?”

“Never you mind,” I reprimanded Stefan.

“C’mon, you can tell your Dad,” Stefan persisted.

Jeff’s blush deepened.

“Leave him alone,” I said.

“I was just joshing him.”

Stefan carried his coffee out the door into the back yard. Jeff ate his cereal, eyes cast downward. We didn’t speak and he didn’t look up until his blush had disappeared. The kettle bubbled up and clicked off. I started to get up.

“I’ll get it,” Jeff snapped, leaping out of his chair.

I watched as he got two large mugs from the cupboard and some looseleaf tea. I couldn’t see for sure but it looked like he got the leaves from different containers. He wasn’t thinking of slipping me some tea right now, was he, with his father right outside? He was getting real ballsy. I swung my gaze out the open, sliding glass door to the sunny back yard. Stefan was nowhere to be seen. I looked back at my son. He couldn’t seriously be thinking about getting me upstairs while his Dad was home, not after yesterday. Or could he?

Jeff looked over his shoulder and I smiled at him. He sort of nodded and quickly turned back to his task. What audacity. I decided that I would drink his concoction. It was probably the new mild stuff, the stuff that was supposed to make me forgetful. To be on the safe side, if I felt at all woozy, I would just go out to the patio and settle on the lounge in plain sight of his father. He had to be somewhere out there and that would stymie Jeff’s wicked plan. In the meantime, I’d just see how far he would push it, at least for a while. I chuckled. I just couldn’t believe his persistence.

“What’s so funny?” Jeff asked, setting two mugs on the table and sliding one toward me.

“Oh, nothing,” I said, dismissively.

Jeff kept looking at me, expectantly.

“I was just reminiscing about that time you were trying to build that tree fort.”

Jeff laughed. “I was only six, Mom. My carpentry skills weren’t all that great.”

“I know. It kept falling apart on you but you wouldn’t quit until it finally stayed together.”

“Barely,” Jeff laughed and pushed the mug closer to me.

I lifted it to my lips and gingerly took a sip. It didn’t taste bitter at all. He must have made it very weak.

“I know,” I agreed, “but that wasn’t the part I was laughing about.”

“Oh. You mean the part where it kept falling on my head?”

“No, but your father thought that was pretty funny.”

“I remember getting so mad because he was laughing so hard.”

I took another drink, a big one. Jeff was watching me closely.

“That’s why I kept at it until it stayed up.”

I nodded. “I wasn’t laughing. At first I did, but not after I saw your determination. It was amazing. You were so little but you weren’t going to quit until you got the job done.”

Jeff laughed again. “I guess it was funny. Too bad you don’t have a video.”

“Yes, too bad.”

“Can’t say I did a bad job. That fort stood up for years.”

I nodded, took a very big drink of tea, and changed the subject. “This is really good. Is it a new kind?”

“No. Same as yesterday.” Jeff looked very pleased.

I drained the mug and held it out. “More,” I pleaded.

Jeff took the mug to the counter and started mixing up a new set of leaves, his back blocking my view of what he was doing. When he was done, he filled the mug with hot water and brought it to me with the tea leave strainer still in it. I grasped the strainer and languidly swirled it around. Jeff stared as my fingers lazily steered the strainer around rim of the mug.

“Do you want to know a secret about that fort?” I cast a sly sideways glance at my son.

“Sure,” Jeff answered. He seemed to find it difficult to pull his eyes from my fingers but perhaps the alluring tone of my voice helped him to finally look into my eyes.

“That night, after you went to bed, I went out and fixed that fort.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Do you really think a six year old could have built a fort that strong?”

Jeff shook his head, as if agreeing, but only reluctantly.

“I still have the scar to prove it?”

“Scar?”

“Yes. Just as I finished, I fell and cut my leg on the corner.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” I paused. “Would you like to see?”

Before Jeff could answer, I dropped one hand to my knee and pulled my summer dress up, stopping when the hem passed over my knee. I looked at him for confirmation. He nodded but didn’t speak, instead swallowing hard as I dragged the dress higher. He wasn’t looking at my face any longer, or the mug. I couldn’t help smiling but he didn’t see me. Higher, then higher, until the dress was stretched across my thighs almost far enough, but not quite, to show my panties.

“See?” I whispered, as if I was baring a secret only he and I could know.

Jeff’s head actually dipped, bringing his eyes closer to my thighs. I shifted my right knee outward, opening a gap and dipping my index finger between my legs, pointing to a faint white line, the last vestiges of cut I had suffered long ago in a boating accident before Jeff was born. Of course, after his shenanigans of the past few weeks, Jeff knew it was there but he didn’t know how it got there.

“See what your mother suffered for you?” I traced my fingertip slowly up and down the scar. Jeff leaned closer and I opened my legs so he could see better. My panties peeked out and Jeff caught his breath. He leaned even closer but I lifted my knee and crossed my legs, closing the curtain on my impromptu show.

“So, you owe your mother,” I snapped.

Jeff leaned back and looked guiltily into my smiling face. I laughed and he followed suit, nervously. I began swirling the strainer in the mug and Jeff looked down but his eyes moved beyond because, though I had crossed my legs, I hadn’t pulled my dress down. My thighs were still fully exposed and my lifted leg allowed the full length of my right thigh to display the long S curve of its underside, a part I knew many men found particularly exciting.

I don’t know why I was teasing Jeff like this but I found it quite stimulating, even arousing. It had been a long time since I had been so flirtatious with a young man, probably not since some of the parties we used to have when Jeff was very young and I was coming out of my frumpy-feeling stage, in need of attention. I had a flashing memory of watching Stefan dancing slow dancing with one of our neighbors while I sat on the couch with my short skirt, pretending not to notice that the woman’s husband sitting next to me had his eyes on my panties, just as Jeff’s had been a moment ago. I remembered Stefan steering the woman away and getting lost amongst the other couples in the dark room, but not before I saw him kiss her. I had gulped down the rest of my drink and laughed as I handed the empty to her husband, expecting him to get me another, but he simply took and put it onto the end table behind him. Then he turned and kissed me, right in front of all the other couples, but they didn’t pay any attention because none of them were dancing with their own partners and their attention was directed elsewhere. His hand was pressing on my bare thighs and I meant to protest but opened my legs instead. My head was spinning; I had drunk too much. The man’s tongue pushed thickly into my mouth and his hand slipped behind my head to prevent a retreat, but there was none. Sensing my acquiescence, his hand slid up my open thighs until it cupped my panties and his fingers pressed into the crevice marking my entrance.

I should have slapped him but I didn’t. My arms encircled his neck and I pulled his mouth onto mine. When his fingers slipped inside the leg of my panties, I cocked my hips forward, facilitating their entry. The man started muttering to me, silly things meant to get me hot. I looked over his shoulder and noticed that the room was darker and several couples had already disappeared. The few that remained were no longer dancing, they were pressing their bodies together and making out. One pair was already half undressed. I remember thinking that I wished I had a set of tits like that. Who was that? Mandy. What ever happened to her? Her partner dropped to his knees in front of her. Was he going to propose, my drunken mind wondered, just before he pushed her skirt up and his head disappeared under it. Mandy pressed his head tight but seconds later she backed up until she fell onto the other couch. Immediately, he was up and between her open legs, his pants already down to his knees. An awkward movement, and he was fucking her.

I looked around the room. Stefan and my new partner’s wife were gone. One couple, looking at Mandy and her partner, sank to the floor and started undressing while another pair took possession of the overstuffed chair in the corner. I noticed that the man was Mandy’s husband. He pushed his pants down and the woman in the chair leaned forward to take him into her mouth. My own partner was kneeling on the floor in front of me. He lifted my legs and my panties were yanked up to my knees. He didn’t wait to pull them off, he just pressed my thighs against my tits and shoved himself inside. I expected his callous, urgent thrust to hurt but it didn’t. I was so wet, it just slid in like we’d been fucking for half an hour.

Stefan and I never talked about that night and I never let that happen again, with any man. Nor had Stefan, or so I had thought until recently.

“Mom? Mom?”

My eyes were closed. Jeff’s calls were faint but growing louder. Good god, I’d been dreaming. No, not dreaming, remembering. It had all happened. Still, my mind had slipped away. I was about to open my eyes when I realized Jeff’s hand was between my thighs. Had that triggered the memory? No, I had started remembering first but it certainly may have helped augment the sexier details. I kept my eyes closed and Jeff’s hand moved higher.