Chapter 1: Coffeehouse

I put down my newspaper and watched the woman cross the busy road. She waited for a break in the traffic and then strode purposely across the bitumen barely lifting her head from her from her phone, almost daring the steady stream of vehicles to take her on. A car beeped its horn at her and she stood still in the lane and glared at the driver, before striding off.

She wore an expensive camel-coloured London Fog raincoat cinched at the waist, which hid her figure but it was obvious that the body under that bulky coat was worth more than a second glance. Even from this distance I could see that her long, shapely legs were sheathed in gossamer hosiery. Flesh-toned, almost transparent they were so sheer; expensive I bet. Her feet were shod in black, patent leather Christian Louboutin high heels. Her brunette hair was coiffured into a stylish bob, the nap hung to her shoulders, her fringe straight and level with her brows; discreet cerise highlights complemented her icy blue eyes.

Her makeup was heavy, but perfect; dark smoky eyes, rouged cheeks, ruby-red lips. Her gold jewellery glittered in the dim light creeping through the overcast sky.

I twisted in my seat so I could follow her progress as she approached the coffee shop. I had deliberately taken a booth in the back corner of the busy enterprise and had taken the bench seat facing the wall. I turned the other way as she entered the coffee shop. She took off her coat, shook it and hung it on the coat rack adjacent to the entrance. Her voluptuous figure was now fully displayed; she wore a tight-fitting navy-blue power suit, the hem of her skirt resting well above her knees. Several of the male customers turned her way to gawk.

She struggled to squeeze between the crowded tables as she made her way to my table at the back of the room. I stood up as she approached. She gave me a forced smile and air-kissed my cheek, I was immediately enveloped in her perfume; something spicy and expensive. She smoothed her skirt under her as she slid into the booth across from me.

The looked at me with steely blue eyes.

“What is it now Nathan? An increase in your allowance? Uni fees so you can study Patagonian Basket Weaving? Crashed your car?” her disdain for me evident in her voice.

Her phone vibrated and she quickly lost interest in me and began to text.

“Order me a skinny latte darling,” she didn’t even look up at me.

“And make it to go.”

I was taking her away from important matters and she barely had time from her busy schedule to deal with me.

She hardly noticed when I stood, but a look of annoyance and disgust crossed her face as I slid onto the bench seat beside her.

“What the hell...” she began.

“No. Look at this Bethany, I’m sure you will find is very interesting,” I held my iphone in front of her.

I pushed a bud into my ear and offered her the other.

“God no,” she looked disgustedly at the proffered earbud.

“It’s better with sound,” I insisted and brushed aside the nap of her hair pushed the bud into her ear.

Before she could protest again I pressed play and the video began to stream on the screen of my iphone. Bethany became silent and sat stunned, her mouth agape.

On the phone in vivid colour a woman lay on a bed her legs spread wide. Her panties and pantyhose were bunched around one ankle but other than that she remained fully clothed. Her skirt was hiked up and a man, also fully clothed, lay between her legs performing cunnilingus.

The woman was writhing with lust, pressing both her hands on the baldhead of the man as he lapped at her cunt. She was gasping and moaning with wantonness and delectation.

I tapped the volume button and the woman’s squeals filled the little buds.

“Oh my god Roger, that’s so fucking good,” her heels drummed on the bedclothes.

“Now fuck me! Fuck me!” she pawed at the man, encouraging him to mount her.

The man began to unbutton the woman’s blouse but she slapped his hands away impatiently.

“We don’t have time for that Roger! Just fuck me!” the woman gripped the man’s long thick penis, protruding from his trousers.

She arched her back and guided him to her sex. The man slammed his cock into the woman’s vagina and began to fuck her vigorously; she lifted her legs, crossing her heels behind his back. The woman was still wearing her high heels and she uncrossed her ankles and raked the stilettos on the man’s flanks.

The man groaned and fucked the woman harder. She wrapped her hands around the man’s neck and pulled his face to hers and kissed him passionately as he ground her pubis against his, her orgasm evoking a stream of obscenities which she gasped into the man’s open mouth through her red lipsticked lips. The man ground against her, obviously spending himself.

They writhed on the bed until their climaxes subsided. The woman, now sated and disinterested, pushed the man off her and reached out to the nightstand and grabbed her phone. She lay there, her skirt hiked up, legs wide open as the man’s issue dribbled from her vagina, ran down the crevice between her buttocks and soaked into the towel on which she lay.

The woman checked the messages on her phone as she absentmindedly reached for a handful of tissues and wiped her quim. The man wiped his penis and put it away, zipping his fly. He bent down and pecked the woman on the cheek.

“Same time next week?” the man asked as he put on his jacket.

The woman nodded absentmindedly still fiddling with her phone. The man went out of frame followed by the sound of a door closing. The woman rolled over and put the phone on the pillow so she could still see the screen while she kicked off her heels and began to pull up her pantyhose and then her knickers.

I froze the video there and popped the earbud from the woman’s ear and plucked the other bud from mine. The woman just sat there stunned, staring at the frozen image of her pulling up her underwear on my iphone.

The woman finally tore her gaze away from the phone and looked at me; there were tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“What do you want?” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“I want this,” I whispered back at her, my voice was shaking too.

I slipped my hand between her legs and lazily stroked her gossamer-clad thigh, my fingers crept under her skirt, lingering briefly in the crease where her thigh met her groin. Then they slid across the front panel of her sleek satin panties and pressed the silky fabric into her cleft. I rubbed the satin panty crotch against the gusset of her sheer-to-the-wait pantyhose and felt her outer lips open as I pressed my fingers into her mound.

The woman froze, she was astounded at my brazenness. She gasped and then issued a sob; covering her mouth to smother the sound in the crowded coffeehouse.

“I want this mother,” I whispered in her ear and began to stroke my fingers between her legs.

She gripped my wrist and held my hand still.

“You’re crazy Nathan. I always knew you were a strange boy with strange wants and needs, I’ve found enough evidence of that over the years; but this is preposterous!” she tried to move my hand from between her legs.

“As preposterous as you fucking dad’s brother; getting rogered by Roger,” I smirked.

“And you and Dad in the middle of a bitter divorce. Sure, you have the great job, the nice apartment, the BMW and the Merc; your designer clothes and your high-flying friends and acquaintances. But that’s nothing compared to half of Daddy’s fortune ... is it mother?” I grinned viciously.

I gripped her thigh despite the hold she had on my wrist.

“I bet Daddy would be very grateful to me if I gave him a copy of that video. Very grateful indeed,” I released my grip on her leg and patted her thigh.

“Ok. I get it. How much,” the venom evident in her eyes.

“Oh we will get to that. But first I want this,” my hand slid back between her legs.

She slammed her knees together, trapping my hand.

“You’re fucking crazy Nathan! What you’re proposing is not only disgusting, it’s illegal,” she hissed, trying to keep her voice down.

With my free hand I manipulated my iphone and held it so she could see it. The email program was open with a draft message on the screen addressed to my father. ‘This will interest you,’ the message read; there was a file labelled ‘mom being Rogered’ attached to the email.

“This is what’s going to happen mommy. You’re going to pleasure me right here, right now, and I’m going to do whatever I like to you while you do it. If you don’t I’ll send the email. If you deliberately bring attention to us I’ll send the email. If you try to leave I’ll send the email,” I grinned at her.

“You are fucking crazy!” she hissed.

I said nothing. I looked around the coffeehouse and saw that although it was crowded, everyone was busy talking or playing with their own phones; no one had time for anyone else anymore.

I took the newspaper and spread it out across both our laps. Being in the back corner booth we were shielded from everyone anyway, but the newspaper was an added precaution.

“What the fuck are you doing,” mother whispered, her voice heavy with concern.

“This,” I whispered in reply removing my hand from between her legs.

She was momentarily relieved until she realised what I was doing. The ominous sound of my fly unzipping could just be heard above the chatter and din.

“Oh my god no!” my mother squirmed in her seat, trying to force herself into the corner of the booth.

I took my hand from under the newspaper and my finger hovered over the send button on the email on my phone.

Mother gulped and then she sighed. I grinned, figuring that she was now resigned to her fate.

“You fucking pervert!” she muttered.

I raised my brows and wriggled my finger over my phone.

“Ok. Jesus ok! Take your finger off the phone!” she gasped, a tear ran down her cheek.

“Put your hand where it belongs first,” I insisted.

Mother sighed and the newspaper crackled as her hand tentatively crawled under the table and into my crotch. The back of her fingers grazed my erect penis and I flinched and let out a sigh.

I had been dreaming of this moment for so long that it now seemed like a dream.

I leaned into my mother and breathed in her perfume.

“Take it in your hand,” I whispered in her ear.

She gulped and nodded tentatively.

Her fingers closed around the girth of my phallus. It was big, a lot bigger than Uncle Roger’s.