Chapter 2

Joanne used to bring her baby, Daniel, to our house while she worked.

It spooked me, I was sure that kid looked like me. No one else seemed to notice.

Even my bitch mother said she found the little fellow cute, and kept Joanne on. Probably because she couldn’t find another maid.

I finally made love with Julie; and it was a life changing event.

She was a beauty, she was my girlfriend, we were in love; I’d been infatuated with Joanne, but my love for Julie was different. It wasn’t secret; it was a sustainable love, a proud love, we were the same age and from the same cultural strata. Julia was the girl for me.

She was a virgin; we’d been dating since we were 14, and I needed her to think I was too. I was a sneaky lying bastard, and didn’t want her to ever suspect the truth.

So I was intentionally clumsy at first, but I made sure she was coming before I popped.

Over the next month, I applied all the skill I’d learned during two years of making love with Joanne. I kissed Julia, stroked her, taking as much time as possible. I bit her ass and licked her teenage vagina, and I fucked her forcefully as Joanne had taught me, suppressing my orgasm while hot young Julia came three times.

She was far too good for me; too pretty, too smart, too nice. Julia was a catch, and I bound her to myself with sex. Her blue eyes went all soft when she looked at me, she had no idea I’d learned those skills from our maid.

I went away to school. Julie went to a different school, but it as it was also in Boston, we shared an apartment together. We were healthy, pretty, and young; we had great sex.

Joanne faded from my mind; even when I was home and she was around. I never mentioned our child, and neither did she.

Julia and I got married after we graduated.

We got a house on Long Island, near our families. Julie got pregnant, and wanted to hire some household help so she could keep working.

My parents had separated and Joanne was still working for my dad; I told her if she wanted to work for Julie and I, she Daniel could live in the apartment over the garage.

I knew it was dangerous, but I wanted my first son at my house, and in the wealthy school district.

She’d never had another child. She told me she had wanted to, but it hadn’t happened. Neither of us ever mentioned Daniel’s paternity; it was like a membrane in any conversation, not to be pierced.

And we did talk; when my wife wasn’t around, Joanne and I would always share a little time, sometimes serious, sometimes joking. Back when we were lovers, we hadn’t ever communicated much.

Her husband had left her. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had suspected the truth about Daniel.

I was 27, Joanne was 41.

She still looked good.

I suppose it was inevitable.

I was working at home one day; Joanne had got the baby to sleep.

Daniel was at school.

Joanne came into the study where I was working and began fusing about.

She mumbled something.

“What was that, Joanne?”

“Nothing.”

“You said something, Joanne.”

“I said; ‘You a naughty boy’!”

I stared at her; we’d never spoken of our past. It was an unspoken pact, and she’d just broken it.

She stood in the center of the room, looking at me defiantly, angrily, hands on hips.

“Naughty boy!” she repeated, “You bring me here only to work! Take care of your baby with Julia, ok. She’s good, pretty too. But what about me, David? What about me?”

I know I’m not a good person; I’m a self centered prick. Joanne was in love with me, and I’d been flirting with her, teasing her for months. I didn’t mean anything, I just liked it when she looked at me that way.

I stood up and came around the desk, afraid of her again like I’d been when I was a virgin schoolboy.

This could ruin me; I loved my wife, I loved my baby.

I loved Joanne too. And Daniel, the baby born of my childhood lust.

She wasn’t a great beauty. Her legs were short and her face slightly pinched. But Joanne was always there, the woman who cared for the children, kept the house, cooked our food. She was my woman in a primal way, I kept her in my house.

She was right; it wasn’t ok. She had needs, and those needs were my responsibility.

After not touching her for ten years, she was in my arms again, our lips were meeting again. I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe that I would risk my marriage to have Joanne again, but I was, and I did.

Her small body thrilled me, triggered forgotten feelings. Her mouth sucked my doubts away, I knew we were going to Do again.

She was ripping at my belt, hauling out my now adult cock. It was me who abused her the first time, but now she was evening the score. She knew I loved my wife, she knew this could destroy me.

Just as I’d ruined her marriage I suppose.

She was so cute and exotic. She was bringing me back to my adolescence; those wonderful care-free times when we used to enjoy having sex almost every day, the secrecy and fear of discovery insufficient to dampen our lust for each other, the unlikeliness of our relationship no barrier to our ability to fulfill each other’s desires.