Chapter 2: Margot At Home

Entering my kitchen I slip off my shoes, drink a refreshing glass of water and shed my blouse. Going to my room I pause at the open door, sensing someone's presence.

There, lying on my bed in only his vest was Guy. I thought he looked in pain.

In one hand he held a piece of my underwear while with the other he was masturbating. I was stunned.

Then he saw me. His expression took on shock and then resentment.

" Mother ... how could you ... spying on me ... like this?" he accused bitterly.

Maternal empathy drew me to him.

" Guy no, please! You mustn't think I was spying!" I pleaded, stroking his head. "I had no idea you were even home yet ... how could I darling?"

His eyes are searching my face for the truth and I see them relenting before dipping onto my chest.

"Well ... maybe so," he sulks... "but you've still made me look foolish." he says putting a warm arm on my bare shoulder and murmuring, "anyway I've really missed you. His lips offer me a forgiving kiss.

I offer mine and somehow Guy makes that kiss deeper than is decent.

Suddenly I feel improperly dressed beside him but Guy closes his eyes and lies back calmly, so I relax.

His hand still held my lingerie and guiltily my gaze shifts to his naked torso. I'm in awe at his handsome endowment; wondering on the effects of excessive masturbation. I'm tempted to touch him but no; instead I meekly offer to get the kettle on for tea. Now Guy gave a soft smile; his tone more assertive,

"No don't go." he said looking at me closer now, "Help me with it; help me finish".

Aghast, my heart beats in alarm, " Guy! ... I cant ... I cant do that!

He gazed at me confidently with his good looks saying levelly, "Just this once you can. It will show you weren't't spying; and that you do care about me."

Anxiously I search his face for direction. "Guy, I do care, but If I did that..."

Guy's brown eyes glinted as I faltered, " I really need you too show me you care." he stated while placing my yielding hand round his firm warm shaft.

I found myself complying, "Very well Guy," I whispered, "only, just close your eyes for me."

As my trembling hand worked, I felt the perspiration on my face. His hand gropes at my thigh while he moans is ecstasy, causing thrills in my groin; a sensation I'd forgotten.

A heady excitement builds between us as I feel his climax building in my hand.

Our cries chime out in unison as my forearm caught a squirt of his milky fluid.

Guy then let out a mournful cry and slumped into a stupor.

It is as suddenly over, as it had begun. Silently, I left him for the bathroom.

There, as I looked into the mirror with my thoughts amok, the guilt closed in upon me.

The following morning it seemed as though breakfast was passing in mutual denial. Probably, he was as embarrassed as I and simply wanted it forgotten.