Chapter 1

My mother, Angela Turner, is a forty-two-year-old widow who occasionally dates. Her dates consist of dinner at the finest restaurants, a trip to an art museum, a theater date and occasionally the ballet, an opera or the symphony at the concert hall. That was about it. She was never out later than midnight unless the play or ballet ran long. As a matter-of-fact, four dates were about as many as she ever had with any man since my father passed away. Once they wined and dined her, took her to art exhibitions and concerts featuring Mozart and Brahms, which she insisted she just had to attend and then found out my mother wouldn’t put out, they looked for easier and cheaper prey.

That was until Mr. Michael Brennan came to call. Oh, he wined and dined her, took her to the places she wanted to go and brought her home by midnight. This was their fifth date. I figured he had his run at her. It was time to drop her at the curb instead of opening the car door and walking her to the door.

My mother never came home late, so I always waited up for her. I watched from the window as Mr. Brennan came around and opened the car door for her. He helped her out of the car and walked her toward the house. Okay, here was a guy who was a little slow on the uptake. Then my jaw dropped. They turned toward each other just as they stepped onto the porch, fell into each other’s arms, and kissed ... and then kissed again. My mother was on her tip-toes with her arms tightly wrapped around his neck like she was actually enjoying it as she pressed herself against him. I watched in awe as his hand slid up my mother’s side and cupped my mother’s breast. I coulldn’t understand why she didn’t slap him or pull away. She just kept kissing him.

They seemed to cool down. Their bodies parted, but they still kept their hands on each other. After a quick kiss, Mr. Michael Brennan turned and walked away. He was almost halfway down the walk when my mother ran after him, grabbed his arm, turned him around and started kissing him again. My god, my mother was making out right in front of the house where all the neighbors could see.

I knew I had to do something rash to put a stop to this undignified public display of affection. I ran over to the front door and flicked the porch light switch on and off as fast as I could. I heard some laughter. A minute later, my mother’s key in the lock. I breathed a sigh of relief as I leaned against the wall and wondered what the hell was going on.

Now, don’t get me wrong. If my mother found him attractive, charming and rich or whatever her criteria were to take a guy to her bed, I wasn’t against it. After all, this is not a convent. I’m twenty years old and have let a boyfriend or two hit a home run. Okay, it was three, mmm, maybe four.

Mom came in all a flutter and blushing when she finally spoke to me, “I don’t know what to say to you, Gail. Did you see me making a damn fool out of myself?”

I sounded like the disapproving parent as I responded to her, “Yes, I did, right in front of our house. But you looked like you were enjoying it.”

Mom had a dreamy look when she answered me, “Oh yes, I did. It was wonderful. I don’t know if I can trust myself around that man. I’m tired. I need to go to bed. See you tomorrow, Honey.”

Mom opened her purse to put her keys away. I stared in astonishment at her pantyhose and panties haphazardly stuffed into her purse.

With that shocker burning my eyes, my mother hurried up the stairs to her bedroom and shut the door. I waited a few minutes. I went upstairs and listened outside her bedroom door. Yes, I could hear the familiar sounds of my mother taking care of business. Her heavy breathing as she murmured to herself about some fantasy she was having. Most likely involving the handsome Mr. Brennan.

I left my mother to her private affair and went to bed.

The next day, I sat Mom down and demanded to know what was going on. I thought she would downplay the fact that I saw her lusting after Mr. Brennan and that she came home without her panties on. But she didn’t. She was giddy with excitement and could not hold anything back.

“Oh my god, Gail, that man has me in such a tither. We only stayed at the art museum for twenty minutes. I didn’t even finish the Van Gogh exhibit before we went to his apartment. I can’t wait to see him this weekend and go to bed with him again.”

I was having trouble digesting the fact that my Mom got laid last night, and now she is planning to get laid again this coming weekend. Where did my mother go? Who was this person talking to me?

More unbelievable words came out of her mouth, “I may be home very late or not until the following day. We don’t want to miss ’Les Miserables’ at the Grand. It’s so good to have found a man who understands me and can make me want to take my clothes off with just a kiss and a touch. You have no idea what I would do for that man. Things I only fantasize about.

I started to get worried, “What things, Mom?”

“Oh, don’t act naïve, Gail. I know you have had a few men in your bed. Don’t try to tell me you only had sex in the missionary position and never had oral sex. Use your imagination. I’ll have you know your mother knows her way around a bedroom, too. It just takes the right man to get me interested. Your father was the first man to awaken me to unrestrained sex. Mr. Brennan is proving to be his equal and may even be more inventive and adventurous than your father.”

Holy shit! Now, my mother was talking about getting kinky.

Mom droned on about Mr. Brennan as I thought of my father. I will never forget my father, a handsome man who indulged my mother in her love for the arts. I remember them coming home from an opera, a play or a concert and being animated in their critique of the performance. Often agreeing, sometimes disagreeing. It seemed my father loved the arts,

too. That he was an enlightened lover was news to me. His passing six years ago sent my mother into deep depression and grief for two years.

Chapter 2

My mother had warned me of her intentions. She went out with Mr. Brennen every Saturday night for the next three weeks and did not get home until two or three o’clock in the morning. I didn’t check, but I was sure she was coming home without her panties on. I gave up waiting up for her.

Mr. Brennan and my mother had been dating for over two months. I guess they figured it was serious enough to have a family get-together. They invited me to dinner at the Oaks restaurant on Sunday evening. I’m convinced they planned it for Sunday so my mother wouldn’t miss her Saturday night sex party. For the last couple of weeks, she has not been coming home from her Saturday night date until after she made him breakfast on Sunday morning.

Now dinner was very interesting. My mother failed to tell me Mr. Brennan’s twenty-two-year-old son Greg, who looked much like a younger version of his father, had also been invited to dinner. Damn, if he wasn’t just as charming. My mother smiled as she watched me drool over this guy. I did the girly thing and ask my mother to accompany me to the restroom.

“Mom, why didn’t you tell me he had a son and Mr. Brennan was bringing him tonight?”

My mother started primping in the mirror, “He is quite handsome, isn’t he? I didn’t want you to think I was matchmaking. I wanted you to meet him and make up your own mind. I must admit I did tell him a few things about you and showed him your picture.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That you’re not a virgin.”

“Mom!”

Mom started fussing with her lipstick, “Calm down, dear. You’re thinking about taking him to bed, aren’t you? Because I certainly would if I were you.”

I calmed down and admitted my mind may have wandered a few times, “Well, he is handsome and quite charming. I may have had a passing thought.” God, who wouldn’t think about it? The guy is gorgeous.

Mom put her lipstick away and pat me on the cheek, “Then do it. If he is half the man his father is. You’re in for a treat.”

So much for my mother protecting her daughter’s reputation. I looked in the mirror and practiced my best come hither look.

After dinner, Mr. Brennan invited us to his apartment for a nightcap. Two glasses of wine later, I seriously thought about jumping his son’s bones — my god, what was wrong with me? I’m acting just like my mother with Mr. Brennan. Watching my mother cuddled up on the couch and kissing Mr. Brennan was not helping. I swear he copped a feel of her boobs. Even with me in the room, she didn’t say a word.

Mr. Brennan’s son Greg was making conversation and pretty much ignoring my mother and his father. I was thankful for the distraction and his discretion.

After an hour of my mother stressing me out, she announced that she was staying and that Greg would be happy to take me home. Greg didn’t look like he was over the limit to drive. To be honest, I wanted out of there. Watching my mother fawning over Mr. Brennan was more than I could take.

On the ride home, Greg and I talked. He said, “My father is quite taken with your mother. He was having a lot of trouble keeping his hands off your mother when we were there.”

“I noticed. Are you there when my mother stays over?”

“Usually.” Greg chuckled, “I guess I have to admit it. I’m reluctant to leave the nest. I still have another year of college, and part-time jobs don’t pay a lot.”

“So true, I’m in the same boat.”

Michael reached over and patted my knee, “Welcome aboard.”

I felt a tingle as his warm hand touched me. I thought of something my mother said about Mr. Brennan. “You have no idea of what I would do for that man. Things I only fantasize about.” I looked at Greg’s strong profile. If he wasn’t gay, I knew I would be offering to fuck this man before the night was over. I placed my hand halfway up Greg’s thigh and squeezed. This evening wasn’t even an actual date. I had just met him three and a half hours ago. I was ready to drop to my knees right in front of him and open my mouth.

He parked in front of my house, walked around and opened the car door for me. He walked me to the door. I didn’t waste any time letting him know my intentions, “You know, Greg, it might be better if you stayed here tonight. We should give your father and my mother some privacy.”

Greg took a step closer, smiled and took my hand, “Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea.”

As soon as I shut the door behind us, I threw myself into his arm and kissed him. I stood on one foot and wrapped my other leg around his. I pressed my pussy against his thigh. He got the idea and grabbed my ass, and held me close. We stumbled up the stairs as we held on to each other and kissed. He pushed me down on my unmade bed. I scrambled around, throwing clothes, magazines, and books off the bed to make room. I admit it. I’m not the neat freak my Mom is. As soon as that chore was done, my clothes followed and disappeared into the ... I will sort them out later pile.

Greg neatly folded his clothes as he took them off. He carefully placed them on top of the clothes I had piled up in the side chair in case I needed something in a hurry. His shoes were placed under the bed. Okay, I could live with that. I know my mother would have approved.

Once he had stripped down to his boxers, he climbed into bed with me. I let him take me in his arms and kiss me. Okay, so I pounced on him and kissed him. I had my hand in his underwear before that kiss was entered into the history books. I don’t know what there was about this guy that had me so turned on. I was thinking about sucking his cock and fucking him before we even had dessert at the restaurant. I was behaving as badly as my mother.

I had his cock out and went directly for the convincer that said I was into this guy. I sucked his cock. I always reserved blowjobs for the third or fourth time I slept with a guy. Then only if they licked my pussy first. I wasn’t taking any

chances. I was keeping this one.

Chapter 3

After that night, I claimed Greg as my own. Mr. Brennan and Greg picked my Mom and me up every Saturday night for a night on the town. This double dating was working out just fine as far as I was concerned. Greg and I enjoyed the museum and the concerts, but when it came to the opera, Greg and I went our separate way. At the end of our night out, we would always meet my Mom and Mr. Brennan back at his apartment. Mom and I didn’t have any reason to be home before Sunday noon.

We had been double-dating for a couple of months and discovered that Michael and Greg were very good amateur chefs. We had finished the dinner Mr. Brennan and Greg had prepared before retiring to the living room to enjoy a glass of wine. My mother sat on the couch with Mr. Brennan. Greg and I sat in separate wingback chairs across from them. I assumed the night would proceed as other nights when Mom and I went to the Brennan’s. We would have a glass of wine and talk for an hour or so. Then, my mother would go with Mr. Brennan to his bedroom, and I would go with Greg to his bedroom.

Mom and Mr. Brennan kissing in front of us no longer seemed that strange. So when Mr. Brennan put his arm around my mother and gave her a quick kiss, I thought nothing of it. It was my mother’s reaction that was unusual. She put her glass of wine on the coffee table, put her hands on each side of Mr. Brennan’s face, and kissed him passionately for almost a full minute.

I looked at Greg, and he was smiling. He just shrugged. I shook my head and smiled back. When I looked back at my mother and Mr. Brennan, they were in a tight embrace. Mr. Brennan had a hand on my mother’s breasts and whispered in her ear. My mother put her hand on his thigh dangerously close to his crotch. It was when my mother moved her hand up and squeezed Mr. Brennan’s crotch that alarm bells went off in my head. Yes, I knew my mother was fucking Mr. Brennan in his bedroom. Hell, I was fucking his son in the room down the hall from them. We could even hear them sometimes. But getting that physical right in front of us was definitely something new and unexpected.