Part 3: Tommy's Story

Tommy grabbed a grenade and positioned himself in front of the metal alloy door. He took a step forward and the door's automatic sensor snapped it open. He tossed the grenade through the opening, and then stepped back in time for the door to close him off from the explosion that followed. There was a muffled cry of pain from the other side of the door. Tommy smiled and took up his rifle. He stepped through the door just in time to see his enemy turn and raise his weapon. Tommy could see that the soldier was heavily wounded, but the bloody figure was still able to pour a heavy rate of fire in his direction as it backed away down the corridor. Tommy's body armor was being degraded as it absorbed hit after hit, but he took his time as he raised his rifle and settled the sights right between the eyes of his enemy. He fired, and the enemy soldier's head exploded in a shower of blood, bone and gray matter.

Tommy walked over to the headless, twitching form. A bloody red stain was pooling around the body. A black rectangle appeared over the corpse and words began to form in the box. 'I really, really, really hate it when you do that, ' Tommy read.

He pulled his keyboard closer and typed, 'u r getting better... I was lucky 2 get behind u.'

'Good game, ' typed his opponent, 'c ya later dude.'

'OK, ' typed Tommy, and he pushed away his keyboard. He heard a couple of taps on the open door of his room and he turned to see his stepmother standing there. Catherine was dressed - immaculately as usual - in white linen slacks and a blue Oxford cloth shirt. Her shoulder length honey blonde hair was swept back and held in place with a gold clasp.

"Is the world safe for democracy once again?" she asked with a smile.

Tommy pumped his fist in the air and said, "Yes, I have triumphed over the forces of evil."

"Well, I hate to drag you away from your solemn duty, but your dad laid down one of his edicts before he left on his trip this morning."

Tommy groaned. His father was a good guy, but when he said jump, it was best to get both feet off the ground. "What now?" he asked. Last week he had been tasked with cleaning and painting their swimming pool before his father would allow it to be filled for the summer.

Catherine took a seat on the edge of his bed. "He said that it was time for you to... uh... spruce up a bit. Get a haircut and some more mature clothing."

Tommy looked down at his wrinkled tee-shirt and below-the-knee length baggy shorts. "I dress like every other teenager," he said.

Catherine raised her eyebrows and said, "I think that was his point."

Tommy sighed and ran his fingers through his uncombed hair. Being the rebellious youth really wasn't in his nature. It was worth a haircut and some new clothes to keep his father happy. He said, "I guess that's not too bad. At least I won't get sunburned and dehydrated, like I did in the pool."

"And," continued Catherine, "there's a formal party at the country club next month. He wants you to put in a good appearance there."

"So as I am now, I embarrass him in front of his golfing buddies. Is that it?"

Catherine shook her head. "Your father is very proud of you. You make excellent grades and you stay out of trouble. He just wants me to tweak your social skills."

Tommy frowned and studied his shoes for a few seconds. This wouldn't be so bad, he decided. He stood and walked over to Catherine. He took her hand, bowed over it and gave it a loud smacking kiss. "Madam," he said, "I am ready to be tweaked. Where do we start?"

She laughed and wiped the back of her hand on his bed sheet. "I guess we can skip over hand kissing and go shopping first."

For the next week Tommy felt as if he'd gone back to school. He learned more than he cared to about dining etiquette, and he and Catherine talked about current events endlessly. Not that he minded spending time with her. She was certainly pretty and she seemed more like an older sister than a stepmother.

Catherine had been raised by an overprotective father. She had gone to private girl's schools, and graduated from college with an advanced degree in English literature. After graduation she had planned on traveling for a couple of years, and then maybe accepting one of the many proposals of marriage that came her way. But then her father passed away, and she learned that his estate was nearly bankrupt. She was on the verge of having to consider actually working for a living, when Tommy's father, Randolph, appeared like someone out of a romance novel. He was fifteen years her senior, but very good looking and he possessed an overwhelming personality. He courted her with the same passion that he ran his successful businesses and soon they were wed. But after a romantic honeymoon, Randolph turned his attention back to business. Catherine began to feel as if she was more of a social secretary than a wife. She hardly ever spent time alone with Randolph, and their sex life was nothing to shout about. It was like, OK, I shot a load, you had your orgasm. Let's cross that off until next week.

Tommy grabbed his skateboard and headed for the door. After a week of lessons, he had managed to avoid Catherine all day. Now he was anxious to take advantage of the long, paved driveway in front of their house, and get in some boarding. He was almost out the front door when she called, "Oh, Tommy."

He turned and saw that Catherine had appeared in the foyer behind him. He groaned, "Not more lessons right now. I was going to get some exercise."

She gestured for him to follow her. "Come on, you'll get plenty of exercise."

"Doing what?" asked Tommy as he followed her into the family's exercise room. Catherine used the various machines therein to keep her slim figure fit and toned, but Tommy and his father could hardly ever be found there.

She punched a button on an executive-sized stereo and soft music began to play. "It's time for you to learn to dance."

"Oh please," whined Tommy. "I've got two left feet. I'll break your toes. I don't really need to dance, do I?"

Catherine pointed to his skateboard. "If you can ride that thing, then you can dance. Besides, girls love it when a guy masterfully leads them across the dance floor."

Tommy wasn't so sure about that, he did absolutely nothing masterfully when it came to girls. On the other hand, Catherine was looking pretty hot in her form fitting workout clothes. He threw up his hands and said, "OK, where do we start?"

An hour later, Tommy was soaked in sweat. His legs ached with the effort of moving precisely to Catherine's instructions. But he was finally beginning to enjoy himself. Instead of worrying about his feet, he began to focus on the feel of Catherine's body in his arms and the fragrance of her herbal soap and shampoo. In fact, he had worked up a terrific erection. Fortunately, his cock was wadded up in his jockey shorts so she couldn't notice.

"I guess that's enough for now," she said as a song ended. "The next time we'll do some fun stuff, like this." She lifted Tommy's hand and spun about under their upraised arms. But Tommy hadn't expected her move and he stepped into her turn. Their bodies banged together and he had to hold her close and hard to keep her from falling to the floor. Catherine laughed, but the only thing that Tommy could think of was the feel of her breasts on his chest and her thigh on his crotch. She looked into his eyes, and the next thing he knew, he was mashing his lips hard against hers.

Tommy was in bliss for about two seconds, and then he felt the pressure of Catherine's forefinger on his brow as she pushed his head back. "I'm afraid your poor dancing is way better than your kissing," she said as she stepped out of his embrace.

Tommy clamped his hands to his face. "I am so sorry," he moaned between his fingers. "I don't know what happened."

"Raging teen hormones, I suspect," said Catherine, as if it didn't matter.

Tommy was relieved that she was being so cool about the situation. But then he suddenly remembered what she had said about his kiss. "Was it really worse than my dancing?" he asked.

"Look, it's OK. You have to learn how to kiss just like you learn everything else." She felt sorry for his embarrassment. "Here, let me show you how this works." She pulled his hands down from his face. "Let's say it's the end of a date. You walk the girl to her door. You say what a good time you had... yadda, yadda yadda. Now you put the fingertips of both hands on her shoulder or arms. Don't grab her ass or anything."

Tommy managed to chuckle and lightly touched Catherine on her shoulders. "That's the universal dating signal for a goodnight kiss," Catherine continued. "If she looks at you and doesn't pull away, then you can go ahead and kiss her. Now keep your lips together and pucker them just a little."

Tommy did as he was told. When he closed his eyes he was rewarded with Catherine's warm, soft lips on his. There were no fireworks, but it was certainly a wonderful sensation. His cock began to throb with renewed enthusiasm.

"If she pulls away, then you're through," said Catherine matter-of-factly, as if she were giving more dance instructions. "If not then you can do this. Close your eyes again."

Catherine's lips landed on his once again, but firmly this time. Then they began to move around in little circles. She even kissed his top and bottom lips individually. "The idea is for you to do it too," said Catherine without completely removing her lips from his.

"Mmmph," said Tommy as he complied. When he began to move his lips opposite to Catherine's the sensations in his cock jumped ten fold. His heart was beginning to pound and his face felt like it was going to burst into flames when Catherine broke their kiss and stepped back.

"And that's about it," she said, catching her breath.

Tommy stood there, stunned. He couldn't find any words to say, but he certainly didn't want the lesson to end. Finally he found inspiration. "But in the movies you see guys kissing - you know - like their mouths are open and stuff."

"Yeah, there's that," said Catherine, "but it's not usually done on a first date. Don't worry, you'll pick it up."

"Please?" pleaded Tommy. "I'm a big enough nerd as it is. Help me get it right."

Catherine hesitated, but then she looked into his big, puppy-dog eyes and relented. "OK," she said, moving closer. "Kiss me again; just keep your lips softer this time."

Once more Tommy did as he was bid. He felt Catherine's lips moving on his again and then something new was added. The tip of her tongue was on his lips. And then it was inside his lips. He immediately got the idea. His tongue played with hers. Their mouths opened more and more and their tongues probed deeper and deeper. Tommy began to rock his hips against hers, but his aching cock was so bound up he couldn't really feel anything.

Suddenly, he was standing there by himself. Catherine was across the room where she picked up a towel and wiped the back of her neck. "You... uh... got it right on the first try," she said, not facing him.

"Yeah, thanks," said Tommy. He picked up his skate board, dropped it, and then picked it up again. He practically ran from the room. He forgot all about skateboarding though. He made a beeline for his room and threw off his clothes. His cock practically snapped into the air when he freed it from the confines of his shorts. He jumped into the shower and soaped up his cock as the warm water flowed over his body. He relived Catherine's kisses over and over as his hand flashed up down his hard-on. In less than a minute he was shooting streams of cum across the width of the tiled shower.

The following morning, Tommy awoke with another throbbing hard-on. He freed his cock from his under shorts and rubbed it back and forth against the bed sheet. Memories of kissing Catherine flooded back and he began to stroke his cock in earnest. Suddenly, there came a tapping at his bedroom door. "Are you up?" called Catherine through the door. "The fitting for your tux' is this morning." The formal party that Tommy's father insisted that he attend required a tuxedo.

"Damn," muttered Tommy. "Yeah, I'm up," he called out. He pulled the sheet away from his body and waved his cock in the air. "Up and ready for you," he murmured to himself. He half hoped that Catherine would come through the door and see him.

But all that happened was that she said, "OK, we leave in twenty minutes." Then he heard her footsteps as she walked away.

It was more like thirty minutes later when they pulled away from the house. Catherine drove a convertible BMW two seat sports car with a manual transmission. She knew how to push the car and Tommy loved to watch her drive. This morning she was wearing a pair of white shorts that had wide, cuffed legs. She had on a loose fitting cotton top that buttoned up the front. Whether by design or accident, her shirt was unbuttoned one button too many. The top on the convertible was down and as the wind swirled around inside the car it floated the material of Catherine's shirt outward so that Tommy could glimpse her bra and cleavage. He soon felt his cock growing once more. But today he was wearing boxers and his privates weren't nearly in as much pain. When they arrived at the haberdashery, he had to stuff his hands in his pockets to hold down his erection. But after an hour of examining tuxes in a dozen styles and fabrics, he felt as if his penis had shriveled to nothing.

Tommy stood still stoically as the tailor tugged and pulled and pinned and marked the material of the tuxedo coat and pants. Catherine and Tommy had finally found a style that she liked and that he could tolerate. The mirror lined fitting room was tiny and when the tailor finished, he had to leave in order for Catherine to enter so that she could give her approval. She went through her own version of the tugging and smoothing of material ritual. Even though her touches were business like and impersonal, to Tommy they felt like loving caresses. His cock began to swell once more.

I am one horny little bastard, thought Tommy. I'll have to whack off again as soon as we get back home.

Then Catherine squatted down to examine the cuffs of his trousers. Tommy could see right down the front of her blouse. He could see her lacy bra and all the smooth skin above it. His cock ballooned and began to tent the front of his trousers. He froze in place, trying not to draw attention to himself. If my dick sticks out any more, he thought. It's going to poke her in the eye.

That's when she looked up right into his groin. "That pleat certainly doesn't hang right," she said. She reached up to straighten the material and that's when her fingers bumped over the head of Tommy's cock. She didn't say anything. She slid her fingers up and down the pleat in his trousers, rubbing the back of her fingers along the length of his cock. Then she stood up; her face was inches from Tommy's. She looked into his eyes and Tommy put his hands on her waist. A second later they were frantically kissing. Tommy slid his hands onto Catherine's ass and pulled her hips hard against his cock.

"I'm sure the fitting room will be free in just a minute," they heard the tailor say to someone.