Chapter 22

The pug nosed governess met me at the door, my daughter in her arms. Reluctantly she gave her to me. My daughter and I chatted one sided about her future. She made some indecipherable remarks and touched my moving lips. The miracle of her astounded me. I set her on the floor and watched her explore. She took an interest in my shoe, so I removed it. Threatening to swallow the strings I plucked her up complaining and headed to the nursery for something more suitable for her mouth and found blocks and a squeaky elephant and surrounded her with them and continued watching. The old flapper joined me, sitting in my lap and kissing between watches. "Let's walk along the beach with our daughter," she suggested.

Cloudy and cool, we put on windbreakers and put a coat and some warm little booties on the baby and strolled out to the nearby beach. Montauk ends Long Island so we walked to the lighthouse and had the ocean surrounding us on three sides. The cool wind and the complicated splashing rhythms of the waves exemplified peace. Watching our child moving sand about, our fingers interlaced, after several minutes of just listening to the beautiful world, we talked, kissing between questions and answers.

"How's Mom?" I asked.

"Improving," said the old flapper. "She's working out every day. I don't let her sleep until night and we get up early. Sometimes I don't know what's best for her though, I mean about food and the right exercises for her. Maybe the woman you're writing the book with could come here. We could be experiments, see if her ideas to make the body beautiful work for anyone."

"That's a great idea. She's in Croton, but she wouldn't mind coming here for a bit. I'll be seeing her tomorrow. Too bad there are no squash courts."

"We have courts in the Hamptons at the country club."

"You're a member?" I asked.

"How do you think I met most of your clients? Anyway, physically your mom's improving and sleeping on schedule helps, but she's suffering mentally. I don't know what it is. I'm scheduling a session with a psychiatrist I've heard good things about. Luckily there's an opening. He has sessions with the wealthy at his house in East Hampton a couple days a week. Mostly he works in the City. He works with hardcore cases for the government, psychopaths and schizophrenics."

"She's not that bad, is she?" I asked producing a soft chuckle from both of us. We hoped for a mild case of depression.

Kisses affected us. We decided to continue in the warmth of a bed. Dropping our small squirming bag of joy into the pug nosed governess's arms, we headed for bed and an afternoon of delight. Mostly we fondled, but before dinnertime she rode me energetically to mutual satisfaction. We enjoyed a lingering shower, dressed and went to the dining room where Mother awaited us with baked ziti. Mother and I embraced, and her body felt firmer. After dinner we enjoyed dancing to records and drinking martinis. Mom got high and disturbingly frisky. She held me tight and rubbed groins. It made me harden. She looked at me lovingly. By the end of the song, I could see despair. She ran off to her room. "Wait for me in my room," said the old flapper. "I need some more loving too."

I must have dozed off, because the old flapper appeared naked beside me, the covers thrown back, and she caressed my penis. "Hey sleepyhead," she said. I kissed and caressed her from top to bottom. My penis entered her mouth and I lapped at her pussy, continuing where we left off before her riding me earlier. Soon, when she begged, I crawled behind and placed my penis where she wanted it and thrust. We slapped against each other for several minutes through two of her orgasms until I shoved and spent deep.

Relaxing in the after sex warmth, she talked. "I know it bothered you, but it's a good sign. Your mother wants a man. She wants sex again. Of course as handsome as you are and as good as you are, who better? I think she's always thought about it. You probably have too." She paused to watch my reaction. I reluctantly nodded. "It's lightning in a bottle, the two of you. Both sexy and beautiful and oversexed. That it hasn't gone farther testifies to either remarkable restraint or getting the desire out of your systems with a parade of others. Maybe incestuous desire caused the parade, battling frustration. It scares her though. Now that she's alone and you're here, her need swallows her. What's worse is you'll be gone and living with the epitome of everything she hates. She will never understand your attraction to your girlfriend. She thinks it's some kind of revenge, and that baffles her as it would me. She's done everything for you. You are her love. And yet you chose the woman most different from her. As smart as she is, she doesn't understand a human being's complexity. She doesn't realize the depth of your relationship. Relationships are physical and practical. The only man she ever felt as intimate with at the level you feel with your girlfriend but without the sex of course, only because it's taboo, is you. Not having you here in the city but up in some mysterious rural place with dreams of farming and with a big tough girl who works with her hands and wears flannel shirts and blue jeans and army boots makes her lonely and afraid and failed."

"I'll go talk to her," I said, getting up and heading out the door.

"You better put something on," said the old flapper with a laugh.

Clothed in a pajama top and underwear like I used to wear when she told stories, and hiding my naked legs in a long robe, I headed to her room. Propped up and reading, wearing glasses I had never seen her wear, Mother set the book down and smiled. "I miss the stories," I said, tossing aside the robe and quickly entering the bed.

"Remember the father of the girl you went to private school with? You had a crush on the girl, a real beauty with black hair and dark blue eyes. She starred in your silly little Christmas play and you played a shepherd or some such nonsense. Of course you should have been right next to her starring, but what do those people know about talent? Anyway, I asked you to point out your favorite girl, and her dad stood beside her handsome as the day is long, wearing a shiny dark blue suit setting off both their eyes. I never knew you to be shy, but when I insisted we meet them you wanted to run away. I barely noticed the evil stare she gave you when you stood face to face, too busy staring into that lovely man's eyes. A spoiled little bitch that one. She never knew what she missed. The skinny little tomboy stole your heart and got the rewards the stuck up beauty blindly passed up. But I couldn't stop looking into those deep blue eyes of her father. He noticed me too. Those eyes flashed down my body, and I might as well have been naked. I glanced down too, and I saw a twitch at his crotch. It made me giddy and hot. The wife, another bitch, schmoozed with other wives. I heard her voice over the mulling crowd like she was queen bitch yelling for the man's company. I had no time. I extracted a card and shook his hand, transferring it. I leaned in quick, at shoulder level and whispered loud enough for him and hopefully no one else to hear, 'Call me.' His demeanor hardly changed, but I sensed excitement. He nodded subtly. My juices ran down my thighs.

"He called that night. We had sex on the phone, a first for me. Not knowing the details, he described the size of his penis. He exaggerated, but not by much. His low voice seemed to vibrate through the phone and inside me. Everything I described to him, suckling his cock, sliding it between my breasts, letting him taste my effluence and smell my desire, amazed him. The wife obviously knew nothing about taking care of her man. I went all out, even having him bugger me. When we finished I asked about the wife. He told me she likes to drink. I asked when he might visit me. He wanted to slip out that night. He liked it when I called him a stud, but agreed it was late and we'd had our pleasure. Overly eager, he inquired about lunch the next day. I asked how long he could stay. I promised he would want more time. We made a date for Monday after work.

"He got cold feet. At least he called. Then he called late the same night and we had another session on the phone. Afterwards he promised to show up the next day. Letting the string out to pull him in, I told him I couldn't. I stalled him until Thursday figuring he would be full of semen by then. At first he told me he had plans, but eagerness won out, and he decided it would be perfect. Boy's night out, he would join them for a little while and feign sickness. I told him to be honest. Men loved hearing about beautiful mistresses on the side. That way if the wife checks up for some reason, they could lie about him going out for snacks or something. I told him to give them my number just in case. After a moment of worrisome thinking he agreed.

"As soon as he walked in the door, I kneeled in front of him and took his penis in my mouth and he ejaculated in seconds. I couldn't hold all the jism, and it tasted pungent like it had waited for release for days. Then I sprung reality on him. Cruelly he asked to inspect the merchandise. I took my time. By the time I stripped naked, his penis got half hard. I stroked it and kissed him, my mouth nasty with his spend. I wanted him to know sex with me would be nothing like he had ever known. I stripped off the rest of his clothes. For a banker, he looked delicious, strong and lean and perfectly formed. Then I pointed the bedroom door to him and watched his cute tusch move. As soon as he entered, my hand couldn't help sliding across that beautiful butt and my finger circled his anus and cupped his scrotum. My other hand reached around, my body pressing against his back, taking hold of his nearly ready penis. I played for awhile, rubbing my nipples along his back and pushing my pussy against his buttocks. His breath deepened. Turning him around and pushing him onto the bed, I grabbed a condom and covered him and straddled him and felt his heavenly penis breech my labia and slowly sink in. I combed my fingers through his short hair, messing up his perfect styling, and then brought his lips to mine. I used every device I could, rippling my inner muscles, dazzling his tongue with mine, riding his cock from top to bottom. When he needed more, I pushed him onto his back and rode him, letting him watch my breasts fly. My hand reached back to caress his balls as I sped to a gallop and felt my pleasure mounting. Leaning forward, I got the contact to send me over and shoved my finger through his sphincter and joined him in paradise."

Her face reddened and her nipples showed through her nightie. I could smell her desire. I worked under the covers on my erection. She watched my hand's movement for a moment. "Go ahead and touch yourself, Mother," I said.

"I never..."

"You wanted to," I said.

"Can I see?" she asked.

I flung off the covers and showed my hand fisting my cock. Her hands reached under her nightie to her pussy and over it playing with her nipples. We watched each other masturbate until my orgasm arrived. "Let me see," she moaned. I removed my underwear from my glans and a couple more threads of cum ejected from its tiny hole as my cock expanded. It sent her over. Unlike the nights I heard her scream, she kept silent. Her mouth went wide though and her tongue jutted out like a penis.

While calming, she said, "I'm sorry."

"Me too," I said. I covered my nakedness.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"Don't go."

"I'll stay the night."

"I mean stay here. It's not a home without you."

"I'm sorry Mom, but I can't. I have a home."

"You're too young."

"I know. You were too. You did alright. You loved your mother. At least I can see you."

"Did I?"

"Did you what?"

"Do alright?"

"You did magnificently mother. I'm proud to be your son."

"Why are you with her then?"

"I love her. She's the only one I feel completely comfortable with, who never fails to excite me."

"Comfortable and excited? How can that be?"

"I don't know, but it's true. I love talking to her. I love seeing her. I love making love to her. She loves me too. There's no one else for me."