Chapter 2

Where it really began was those visit to her mother's house. Mrs. Riemer became Victoria who became, when they became intimate, just Vic. He loved saying Vic.

Strangely, when he continued to call Jane's house once a week to chat with her mother, it was less about missing Jane as it was about enjoying this older woman's company. After a couple months, with Jane well ensconced in her dance classes and her work in New York, Victoria told Jim to come over. Her neck was getting tired leaning into the phone and her hand was tired holding it against her ear and it was silly to put her through such discomfort when he can just come over and they could chat face to face.

Their conversations were very honest. Jim told her about school and his friends and wrestling. Victoria talked about her work producing photo shoots and promoting those photographs. They both created dialogues. Lots of questions. They were interested in what the other would say. When Jim would feel a surge in his heart for her and a clarity to his vision of her, it didn't bother him that what he was feeling was love for this woman. It was a chaste love, appropriately platonic, considering Plato and his question and answer philosophy. At least he thought it was platonic. She was a beautiful woman, but he saw her in the light of being Jane's mom.

One night everything changed. Jim came over after his dinner at home, arriving at Mrs. Riemer's house about 7:30. She was in mid shower when Jim rang the doorbell. When she didn't arrive after a couple minutes, Jim rang again. He knew she was there, since she had invited him over. He was a little early, though. A half hour early actually. But he had usually been early. He sat on the steps of the stoop for five minutes. When he rang the doorbell a third time, it was only a minute later that Mrs. Riemer opened the door looking damp in a white terry robe, her shoulder length blonde hair rapped up on top of her head in a towel. Jim was transfixed by her vision. She looked soft and exuded a warmth and her cheeks were rosy. Jim knew she was beautiful, but this was ridiculous.

"Come in, Jim," she finally said. As she did so she looked down, catching his club's expansion in his white trousers. Jim was glad he had chosen not to wear shorts or the head of his club would have been popping out the bottom. Still, never wearing underwear and wearing tight slacks, he knew he was obviously on display. He was afraid he had offended her, but when she looked up into his eyes, he saw a smile. At first he thought it was a smile of reassurance, but then he noticed her mouth was a little more open and her eyes had a devilish glint. When her little tongue darted out across her lips, his club hardened and expanded another inch in length and girth. "Sit in the den," she continued after a long and hot and transformative silence. "I'll get dressed."

She hopped up the stairs like a teenager. "Press play on the CD player," she shouted down the stairs at him before disappearing inside her bedroom. He did. The rich funky slow music of Mr. Magic by Grover Washington Jr. smoked out of the speakers, filling the room with a sensuous air. He sat on the comfortable couch. He wondered whether to stroke his thickened club or let it slip back into dormancy. His fingers tapped at it with indecision. The vision of her ultimately luscious body and face standing in the front door were imprinted on the back of his closed eyes. He could still smell her warm clean scent she sent wafting into his nose when she stood before him. He unzipped and pulled his club out of his pants. He had to have it out. And he pulled on it. He paused briefly to listen through the music for sounds of her drying her hair. Reassured his hand again attacked his manhood. His strokes were making it as hard as he could remember. The flesh club touched the buttons of his shirt as it stood up straight and rigid. He began to feel pressure in his balls. He tapered off the strokes and then resumed, bringing him closer and closer to cumming. He stopped completely when he heard her on the stairs. There was no more room down his pants, so he tried covering the proof of his delirious excitement with the bottom edges of his shirt, only a partial success. She stood behind him, behind the couch.

"Jim," she said. For some reason he kept facing away from her. Was it shame? He didn't think so. He liked the feeling of her hands when they rubbed his cheeks gently.

"Mrs. Riemer," he said, and to him the words could barely be heard over his heart beat.

"Victoria. Call me Victoria."

"Victoria," he said, and her hands could feel his smile. She leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

His eyes opened, and he was about to tilt his head back. She could feel the muscles begin to tense at the back of his neck. "No. Keep still," she said. "Keep your eyes closed." He obeyed. "Now think back to when you and Jane first began seeing each other. Not as children. You know what I mean. What was it about her that attracted you?"

"Mrs..." he began to say as his eyes opened.

"Unh-unh. Victoria. And keep your eyes closed," she said, sounding amused but with an edge and ultimately with the tone of seriousness.

Once again obeying, but with a swallow, he said, "Victoria, do you think its appropriate?"

She massaged his face and his neck. "Please. Please just relax. Relax your head and your mind. Trust me," she said, working hard at her massage while eyeing his still remarkably long and thick but dwindling club of flesh a couple feet lower than her hands. When she closed her eyes briefly, she imagined taking that small and yet somehow vast journey down to grasp his magnificent physical proof of his lust for her. she opened her eyes, trying to keep it in the moment. She had to know where she stood in his heart.

She whispered into Jim's ear through the slow throbbing music and Grover Washington Jr.'s strong strings of melody he was blowing through his tenor saxophone. "Picture Jane. Tell me what you see. Tell me what attracts you."

"She talks to me intelligently. Her voice is low."

"No, Jim. Look at her."

"I love the way she walks."

"Yes. Is she walking towards you or away from you?"

"Either way. Even sideways."

"When she walks towards you, what do you see?"

"Her long legged strides. Her..." for the first time he felt embarrassed. How could he tell her mom such things?

"Go on," Victoria said, but he was silent. "Tell me about her breasts."

"Her breasts..." he gulped but managed to continue. It was a tense moment, but the tension had a sexual aspect. His club was hardening and enlarging. "Her breasts swing a little. They bounce a little. Her nipples rub her shirt. They harden."

"Take off her shirt and hold them. Feel their weight, their texture, the texture of her areola." Victoria's hands left the side of his head, and they returned pushing her breasts against his cheeks.

"Reach back with your hands, Jim. Reach back and hold my breasts." Jim obeyed with pleasure. "Feel their weight, their texture, the roughness of my nipples." When he rubbed and pinched and twisted her nipples, she sighed. He wanted those forty year old breasts. But she had to make sure. "They're looser, not so young and firm."

"They're luscious, Victoria," he said, turning his head to kiss the soft white flesh and lick it up to the nipple. He licked around the areola and sucked in a nipple. His eyes remained closed. He savored all the wonderful new touch sensations.

"Aaah," she sighed. As his mouth continued to caress her breasts, her hands slid down his chest, its well defined muscles still hiding under his chambray shirt. His hands began the task of unbuttoning it. When the shirt was loose around his shoulders, she pushed it aside to work his impressive chest. Once he had finished the unbuttoning and spread open the shirt, she wanted to plunge her hands down that beautiful torso to his manhood again and stopped herself again.

"And her stomach?" she whispered as steady as possible.

"I love the softness, the hint of tummy, and the way the sides curve in and out to her lovely hips."

She pressed her naked stomach against the back of his head. She took his big hands and manipulated them so that they touched her there, slid all over her abdomen, felt along the waist and how it sloped to her hips. Her flesh played loosely against his fingers, but there was a tautness. Victoria was in good shape. "Feels nice," he said. She sighed in agreement. His fingertips played with her belly button. All was good thought both of them.

"Okay," she said, reluctantly pulling his hands away. He dropped them beside his lap. "Now imagine her walking away. What attracts you?"

"The way her high ass moves. Each cheek rises and fall, the muscles gently ripple. And the dark space between seems to beckon my entrance."

Victoria walked around the couch to stand before him. "Keep your eyes closed." She turned around. "Raise your hands and touch me," she commanded. His blind hands found her ass. It was looser. The cheeks were lower, fuller. They were two hands full. He grabbed them and pulled and twisted them, his fingers sliding between, feeling the heat and the humidity.

"Oh," she sighed. "Not so high and firm."

"Delicious," he said. He slid the fingers deeper between her ass until they discovered the source of the heat and dampness at the bottom of her pussy. He felt her lips vibrating at his touch. His fingers slid up along those lips, then separated them and entered inside. She was incredibly wet and hot. She moved up and down on his fingers with the slightest motions, not sending them deep. Not yet.

"Delicious?" she repeated, her voice thickened by her passion. "The dark space between? What do you want to send in there."

"First my fingers," he said, pushing his fingers deeper inside her, caressing her in the textured space behind her pubic bone. She pushed down onto his hand, driving him deeper. She moaned with pleasure.

"Then what?"

Suddenly he took hold of her hips in his strong hands and lifted her so her cunny was in front of his face. The sudden change made her hands struggle for stability until they grabbed the only handle readily available. At last his big club was in her hand. It was strong and young and virile. She loved it. She kissed it then sighed when his tongue stroked her nether lips up and down. He paused to sigh his own equal pleasure at the touch of her lips. When her tongue licked the club's head, he sighed even deeper.

He fiercely attacked her cunny with his mouth, sucking and licking, his tongue lashing becoming a tongue fucking. She slowed him down with the careful speed of her mouth descending down his cock. First he bayed out his pleasure into the room. Then, before he could start again, she said, "What about my old pussy compared to hers?"

While he answered, she began pushing his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth with each stroke. "God Vic... Vic... I love your pussy. It's so full of adventure and character and lust. I love its flavor. The flavor of experience. The flavor of care. The flavor of someone who takes care of herself so someone like me can take pleasure from you and give you pleasure right back." He licked and sucked at her clit and sent his fingers into her creaming hole and one into her much smaller hole.

After a few seconds she couldn't stand not having her cunny full of his magnificent cock. She pulled herself down from his mouth, turned around and, kneeling on the couch, straddled the wonderful club. Her hands, petite beside his magnificence, held it still for her descent. When it entered it took up all that inner space and more. She hadn't felt so full since giving birth to Jane. The incredible friction expanding her cunny hole and laying bare her clit to rub against his cock was enough to send her into a full force orgasm. As her body vibrated her cunny quivered and her sex fluid pored down along the edges of his cock. He felt impelled by her inner vibrations and the oiling of her passage to push forward, impaling her all the way to the depths of her cunny. He took command of her body, his strong hands lifting her up and pulling her down. It was too good.

"Open your eyes," she moaned between the end of one orgasm and the beginning of another. "Look at my face. It's not her face. It's old compared to her face."

He opened his eyes and looked at her incredibly beautiful face glowing red and radiant from her orgasm. He saw the lines at the edges of her eyes and the little bit of sag under them. But more he saw those eyes, big and full of the liquid of tears and full of love and a little fear. The fear disappeared when he said, "God you are the most beautiful woman, Vic." He slowly fucked her as he continued his speech, talking at the rhythm of the fucking. "No matter how close we got, I never really saw how perfectly beautiful you are until now. Who you are, who you've been until now, no matter how long, how old or whatever, it has created you and you are the most luscious creature I have ever known. I love you Vic."

"I love you, Jim."

They looked down at the sight of his club sliding in and out of its happy new sheathe. The sheathe clung to the club's edges. "Oh Vic, Oh Vic, Oh Vic..." he repeated at each push. The mantra quickened as his speed quickened. He was pummeling her insides with his mighty weapon. "Oooooh, Viiiiiic!" he wailed as the club pushed against her cervix again and again. Heat pulsed all through his body and at its center his balls were building up their load. Everything, the entire universe of pleasure was centered there and his penetrating cock. And it exploded. She held him tight, her pubic bone grinding against his as she too climbed the heights of ecstacy until she reached the pinnacle and she was cumming with him. A communication of throbs and vibrations ensued inside her.

As the throbbing lessened to the point where the passion cloud was dissipating and their awareness was rejoining the world outside their own flesh, Vic kissed Jim. At first brief meeting of lips, barely touching. Soon she was pushing her lips hard against his. Her mouth opened to his tongue. While their tongues played their lips played as well. The two sensitive areas were discovering each other.

By the end of the kiss she could feel his club expanding again. Her cunny lips took hold of his rising flesh and aided its expansion, pulling it, tightening on it with the muscles in her loins, stretching it until it was fully hard. She took control of the fucking, rising and falling slowly on his flesh bone then suddenly speeding up when she felt a thrilling contact against her clit. She was bouncing wildly on him. He was pushing deep inside her. She let go a last gasp, held still with him deeply embedded, then sighed as she completely relaxed against his body.

After a few moments to let her bask in the aftermath of her spectacular orgasm, Jim said, "Come on Vic, get on my back." His cock slipped out of her sloppy pussy. She giggled, but he played it straight. "Come on." He bent down, facing away from her, bending own. His big hands took hold of her well fucked ass cheeks and lifted her onto his back. Her legs crossed around his naked thighs and her arms were around his shoulder and across his chest. She realized how strong he was and she was choking him and relaxed, gently holding on.

Because of the sudden shift in their relationship, one that Jim had not anticipated, he felt incredibly energetic. After being in love with her as a friend, as Jane's mother, as a fount of knowledge, his love was completed at the physical level. In all ways he was close to her. Nothing in his life had ever felt better. And a charge was there from the surprise. It gave him the strength to carry her up the stairs and into her room. Not nearly as big as her daughter, she still had a model's height, her muscles were strong and healthy. So it was her 140 pounds he carried on his back up the stairs and into her room. With her nipple pressing on his back and her pussy against his coccyx he could carry her forever.

Turning around beside the king sized bed which he and Jane had enjoyed on several secret occasions, he dropped Vic. One could interpret this as cruel, but one would be wrong. He knew she was a lot older than him. She would figure he'd treat her gently, like she was an older woman. By dropping her, knowing how healthy and lively she was, he knew it would be fun for her. And it was. She liked that he made her feel so young, so impossibly virginal. She giggled.

"Lie down, Jim," she said while sliding off the bed. He lay on his back, his still hard club sticking up and bouncing. She retrieved some oil from the chest of drawers and returned to the bed, giving his club some more delightful bounces. Placing the bottle on her bedside table after dabbing out a large dollop onto her fingers, she slid down the bed so her head was near his cock. She applied the oil up and down his club. He moaned.

"There's two things you have to know about me," she said. "One," pausing to giggle "one is I'm a bit kinky, okay?" She smiled back at his smile. "Two is I am desperately in love with you and have been for some time. Since our first conversation."

Silence pervaded the room. Her hand continued the up and down motion on his cock. Jim thought about the implication, that she wanted him as much or more than her daughter. She had to hide those feelings for her daughter's well being. Jim thought briefly about not knowing whether it made her mad at her daughter, or, if she looked honestly at her choice, she could see it was a powerful example of how much she loved Jane. Or both.

"We'll get to two," she said, stroking his cock hard, sending him to the brink of cumming, thrilling him completely, before slowing and lightening her strokes. He leaned up in bed enough to take her in his hands and try to slide her head onto his chest. But she resisted. "Lay back, Jim," her head on his thigh, "I like the view from here." She moved the club out of the way to look up at his eyes, "Yes definitely the best view."

While telling her story, her strokes of his cock intensified and retreated. His moans would punctuate her sentences. "First I want you to know the kinky side of me. It worried me you might or you might not go for it. I think you will. I hope you will. It's important that you do. You know I was dating a lot of different guys. Respected professional bachelors and sometimes cheating husbands. Nobody worked out. I needed to get beyond my stable of cocksure little pricks. It was all too safe with them. Boring really.

"So, I don't know if you noticed I haven't been dating for awhile. Yeah, so, I've been taking little side trips, little excursions. I've been haunting neighborhood dives. And I tease. I never wanted to consummate my horniness with the men I met. It just turned me on seeing pants rise and eyes glaze. I knew it was dangerous.

"The third time was the most dangerous. And it was the most thrilling. For a couple times I would come home so frustrated, wanting someone there with me. An imitation wasn't enough. Rubber wasn't enough. The third time I sensed that these big tough guys, hard working guys, the majority of the inhabitants of the sleazy dive I found were focusing on me in a way that felt like mass psychosis. They were closing in. Just then, one of the few couples decided to split, and I let them lead me out. I followed them to a motel room. Luckily there was a bit of a peephole between the curtains and it was late enough midweek to have no one around. It was an older couple, not attractive normally. It wasn't a clandestine affair I don't think. Some kind of fun for the old couple. They were in love. They kissed. They unwrapped. They fucked, grunting and groaning and shaking the wall with the bed. Only a couple fingers inside my pussy and I was cumming all over the place. It was incredible."

Jim went into motion, sliding across the bed to retrieve the bottle and squirt some oil on his fingers and then sliding back. "Move your ass up here, please," he said, a restrained command, almost gentle.

She did. "You don't have to say please," she said.

"Okay." He slid one finger into her asshole.

"Oh," she sighed, letting him know it was another pleasant surprise from him. She continued talking, curved upside down to him so her legs curled against his chest and her feet sat near his face. He took advantage of her feet's location and licked and sucked her toes as she spoke.

"So I decided I was a peeping tom. I wanted to stalk lovers and watch them get off. But I decided I wanted to set up the situation so I would have more contact. I became a matchmaker. I would find two subjects, young, good looking subjects I sensed might be right for each other and put them together. First I lured the guy to the girl. Then I'd get to know the girl or girls in the party I was luring the man into. So I got to know these people. I would make them feel safe with me and I would feel safer. I would find it stimulating when the danger lessened. Weird, huh? I don't know, maybe it was the thrill of conquest or maybe it was getting to know these people, these lovers.

"If it worked out I'd sit across from them in the bar and watch them explore, kiss, rub, stimulate. I watched their hands find the other's lap. I watched the ripple of muscle in their arm and shoulder as they felt each other up. I watched their faces become inebriated with passion.

" I'd let them know about a room they could have for the night. Of course I'd set it up before hand. And I'd end up there in the room while they sucked and fucked. God it was good. God that feels good," she sighed as he penetrated her asshole with two and then three fingers, opening her up for his magnificent club. She pulled hard and tight on his cock, making a small hole with her hand for his cock to penetrate. He was as close to cumming as he had been during this long masturbation of his club when she eased off. His moaning breath quieted and slowed a little.

"Just recently though, it got out of hand," Jim's movement inside her stopped. "No it didn't get completely out of hand. It got to the point where I was being touched. First one side than another then another. Three big angry guys. Don't stop." He started his three fingered strokes inside her again. "Ah, good. It ended up okay, okay?" He nodded. She pulled and kissed the head of the club, a brief kiss. Too much oil. She knew she'd be sucking on that great club of flesh in the near future.

"To tell you the truth, though I was scared, it was stimulating. The thing was I always knew an escape route. It was close but I knew if I acted fast and with all my energy working on escape, I'd make it. I picked up my full glass of beer and splashed it across the faces of two of the goons and the other I pulled on his cock which surprised the hell out of him and I ducked in between them and bolted out the door."

"And you want me to come along..."

"I want us to cum together." They laughed.

He turned her around so she was face down and towards the head of the bed. He lifted her ass up, his hands holding the beautiful curves of her hips. He grabbed hold of his club and guided it into its tightest sheathe. His digital manipulations had widened her backside hole, but his club was a fearsome space displacing thing. It was heaven to him slowly plumbing her depths. Vic had never felt so pulled open. It wasn't so much pain as it was an unbearable intensity. Honing in on the intensity drove her to insanity. A libidinous insanity. She pushed her hand down and the palm rubbed her clit, her fingers sliding inside her cunny.

"I want to fuck them up," she said slowly. Each word intermixing with a loud moan of pleasure emerged with each of his thrusts. His thrusts became more rapid. He was a piston hard inside her.

"Okay," he said within his own resonating moan. He was climbing to the top of a crescendo. He jolted hard against her ass, his club penetrating her as deep as possible. His cum shot out again and again as his body shook.

She soon was cumming too. With a vigorous rub of her clit, she felt the thrill ripple out thick and shaking from there and from the intense sheathing of his club. Her body was let loose, feeling as if it was a flag and the orgasm was the wind. "Yeah," she screamed, elongating the word. He felt the anal wall contracting and vibrating around his sensitive penis. And it was good.

When he separated his dwindling club from her bung hole with a pop, they both bounded out of the room and into the master shower. They soaped up and rubbed down their well used private parts with a wash cloth, the shower water poring libidinously all over them.

His club wasn't up for a third go around, but her sighs and the continuous love secretions he felt despite the shower water clued him in that she was. He was on his knees, cushioned somewhat by the rubber mat, as his tongue dug into her sensational cunny. He licked and sucked the pussy lips and two fingers drove inside, driving her nuts. When he sucked on her clit, it sent her over again in a lesser though most pleasant cum.

It was incredible to sleep the night with her, to see her as she awoke, at her most human, falling in love all over again with this warm creature. Her kiss on his morning mouth proved her similar feelings.

"God Jim, I love you," she whispered. "You turned me on for so long. I knew it would work. I dreamed of this moment, totally satisfied, kissing your waking lips. I knew it would be good. It's beyond good." She kissed him again.

He wore the robe one of her old sex partners was nice enough to have left behind. It barely reached his knees. She put on a thin cotton robe which she tied tight around her, accentuating her lovely ass. And they made breakfast.

It was incredible to stay for three days and nights with her. Not just fucking, sucking, kissing, making love, though there was plenty, but talking.

By the end of the third day they had made plans for attacking the three goons. She hoped the three were regulars. First they went shopping and bought Jim a semblance of the goons' late night carousing uniform. Cheap but dressy and tight. Vic loved how tight Jim's pants were at the crotch what with his lack of underwear. She could have cum just thinking about him in his tight pants in the bar, but was looking forward to adding those other elements of atmosphere and danger.

She stopped her car near the shit hole bar, dropping off her overwhelmingly sexy partner, watching his ass disappear around the corner when he got to the dump's street. While she drove back to the motel to rent another room for the night, this time planning to use it goddamn it, Jim cased the joint. It was small and easy to case. Jim quickly found the toilets and the back exit which led to an alley. He hadn't been able to look out there, but he figured there had to be an alley.

She had described them as much as he needed. Two blond guys and a dark and swarthy gentleman. One of the blondes liked to play with his set of keys attached to the hip of his jeans as if it was a rosary. When he came in that guy was buying a round at the bar for his buddies, bringing it to them on a tray.

"I swear you're turning into a goddamned waiter," said his blond friend.

"Fuck you," said Mr. Rosary, and sat down. Jim approached the table.

"You guys are from around here?" Jim asked.

"What do you want to know? Do I know you?" said the swarthy one, without much interest in the answer. Jim ignored the attitude and embraced the question.

"No, I usually go to the Eastern Bar."

"Sorry to hear it," said the swarthy guy. The other two guys snorted a laugh.

"Yeah, well, you're right. But thank god I'm moving here. My dad's setting me up with a bakery a couple blocks away on Lincoln, and I thought I'd find out what's going on, meet some people, try to make some friends. It's kind of hard sometimes making friends around these parts. Name's Jim." It was a risk giving them his real name, but figured ultimately with so much lying he was doing, he'd need some anchor in reality. Jim of course was a common enough name.

"Haven't had a need of any new friends," said the blond, the one not Mr. Rosary. Pretty Boy cause he had sort of a handsome face despite the large crooked nose. Certainly the best looking of the bunch.

"Round of whiskey with that beer?" asked Jim. During the planning, Jim hated the idea of buying these guys anything, figuring they weren't worth it, but Vic had insisted, telling him it was her money and worth every penny.

They went for it. Once he got the attention of the bartender at the bar, a tough guy himself and probably friends with the three assholes, he had the guy pore out three doubles of American whiskey. When he sat with the targets again, he swallowed his whiskey in a couple gulps and pored half the beer down his throat.

He sighed. "Hits the spot," he said. He looked to see who followed suit and watched Pretty Boy follow his lead. He bought another round of beers, hurrying the others. At the first sip of his new beer, he noticed the door open and close. His cue. He hoped it worked.

"Man that stuff sure goes right through you. Damn I gotta piss already. Which way..."

"Show you. Gotta go myself," said Pretty Boy taking the bait and led Jim to the toilet. Jim pushed his butt into the bar on the back door to unlock it, letting Vic inside. Pretty Boy was already exposed and leaking a tremendous stream into the urinal trough when Jim took him down, nearly killing the guy. His choke hold could have been lethal.