Chapter 2

Donnie awoke just as the light of dawn peeked into his bedroom. He had both feet on the floor before he remembered that he was at home and not back in military school. No one here was going to sound reveille over a PA system. He could sleep until noon if he wanted — but first he had to take a piss. He was only going to step across the hall to the bathroom, so he threw on the first thing he came to — a loose fitting pair of gym shorts that he'd worn the previous evening.

He crossed the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. Hiking up one leg of his shorts, Donnie let loose an impressive stream into the toilet. When he was through, he did the obligatory finger rinse and dried them on a hand-towel. He opened the door and almost made it back to his bedroom when the smell of fresh brewed coffee hit his nostrils. He'd developed a caffeine habit at school, and it was hard to ignore the aroma. Oh what the heck, he thought. One leisurely cup would be good. It wouldn't be enough of a jolt to keep him from dozing through the morning.

Helen Somers had arisen early that morning. She had three houses to show before noon and she hated to rush through her morning routine. She was eating a breakfast of fruit, yogurt, toast and coffee when Donnie padded into the kitchen, barefoot and shirtless.

"Well, hello," she said as Donnie crossed to the coffee maker. He wore only a pair of gym shorts and he looked lean and cut with his wide shoulders and six-pack abs. "I didn't think you'd be up this early."

Donnie snorted. "At school, we'd call this sleeping in."

Helen raised an eyebrow as Donnie took a mug from a cupboard and poured it half full of coffee. She'd never seen him express any interest in the liquid. Then she smiled as he stirred in liberal portions of milk and sugar. "I see you like a little coffee with your cream and sugar," she said.

Donnie smiled. "Yeah, I guess so." He nodded to the newspaper and said, "Sports?"

Helen pulled out the sports section and handed it to her son. "Thanks," Donnie said.

Helen was seated at a small table in the family's breakfast nook. The nook was separated from the kitchen by a high counter that doubled as a wet bar during social events. The bar had a couple of high-backed, swiveling stools situated there. It had been Donnie's habit for years to eat breakfast at the counter.

Helen took the last bite of her breakfast. She scooted her chair sideways so that she could hold the newspaper in its properly unfolded position. Movement caught her eye and she looked up to see Donnie practically facing her as he sipped at his coffee. The sports page was lying on the counter top, but he wasn't reading it. He sat in a slouch, slowly swiveling back and forth, his eyes unfocused. Clearly, he was lost in thought.

Because of the difference in height between the stool and her chair, Helen's eyes were on a level with her son's crotch. She couldn't stop herself from taking a peek up the loose leg of his shorts as it flopped open with his movements. Helen was getting a glimpse of Donnie's cock every couple of seconds.

Her first thought was about her son's lack of underwear. Her second thought was about his considerable dick. The last time she had seen his penis, closely anyway, had been when she was still giving him baths. He would giggle and grab himself as she washed his cock and balls. It had been amusing, embarrassing and even a little exciting to see it fill out.

There was nothing small about his cock now, though. The thing lay across his balls and down the leg of his shorts. And it seemed to be getting bigger. Was her son getting hard right here, early in the morning, in the kitchen of all places?

Unconsciously, Helen crossed her legs. She didn't notice that her robe fell open, revealing her leg nearly to her butt. She flexed her inner thigh muscles, squeezing her clit. She could masturbate to orgasm doing this. It was a trick she'd learned years ago, and it had gotten her through many a dull business meeting. What in the world am I doing, she wondered to herself. Am I so horny that I'm trying to get off at the sight of my son's cock? Her inner thighs clenched and released sending little thrills through her clit. Apparently, that's exactly what I'm doing, she thought. She could actually tell that Donnie's cock-head was getting bigger and closer as his dick lengthened. He's got the biggest cock I've ever seen, she told herself. Her husband, Robert, had nothing to be ashamed of in the male equipment department, but their son had him beat.

Donnie held the mug of coffee just under his lips, occasionally taking a sip. He had the sports section in his other hand. He'd started to read an article about the MLB Braves needing better pitching if they were going to make the playoffs, but the words failed to hold his interest. The memory of his first fuck kept repeating in his mind. Missy had been so damn hot. She had gone wild on his dick and cum so many times. His eyes drifted downward. He was rock hard just thinking about her. His dick was tenting the loose leg of his shorts.

OH SHIT, his mind screamed. He had a full fucking hard-on right in front of his mother. He glanced her way just as she sniffed, cleared her throat and turned the page of her newspaper. Good ... it looked as if she had been engrossed in some article or another. She hadn't even noticed that her crossed leg was bare to the hip. Damn, even his mother looked good to him this morning. Nice smooth, shapely legs. He could see the slope of her tits down the top of her dressing gown. Shit ... he turned away, hiding his cock. He searched the sports pages. He needed something to take his mind off sex and loose his hard-on so he could go dress properly.

Helen saw Donnie's eyes slide in her direction. Quickly, she ducked her head and hid her discomfort behind a screen of movements and sounds. She thought she'd die of embarrassment if her son caught her staring at his stiffened cock. When she dared to peek over the top of her paper once again, Donnie had turned away. His eyes scanned the sports page. Helen gave up on her masturbation fantasy. It would have been deliciously naughty to have quivered with a fast orgasm, but now it was time for her to get ready for work. She arose, rinsed her dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

"So what are your plans for today?" she asked Donnie.

"His head jerked up from the paper. "Oh ... uh ... I might go back to bed for a while," he said with a laugh. And maybe crank out a load of cum to get the day started right, he added silently.

"Enjoy it while you can; I think your father wants you working at the store next week," she said.

Donnie moaned and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know," he said, resigned to his fate. It would be another summer of pushing shopping carts and helping little old ladies carry their purchases. He didn't work directly for his father. Actually, he worked for the manager of the local Charles'Mart, Rick Allison, their neighbor from across the street.

Helen walked over and put her arm around his bare, warm shoulders. "Hey, don't knock it. I know you get top pay for anyone in that job, plus you make all those tips."

Donnie smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I can charm the pants off those old women." Now why in the hell did I put it that way, he asked himself.

Helen laughed in agreement and said, "I just bet you can." She leaned over and kissed him — not on the cheek, but nearly on his ear — so that her warm breath tickled. "See you later," she said quickly, and then she forced herself to leave the room before she could pull anymore flirty tricks on her son.

Helen had one showing early that morning. She was trying to set up a young couple with something they could afford on middle class earnings. She rushed through the second showing because at noon she had something that could draw a really nice commission. Shortly before twelve o'clock she drove to the upscale side of town and pulled into the drive of a large Tudor style home. Her clients, the Thompsons were already there. They were a couple in their mid-fifties. Hal was a handsome man with a thickening middle. Marie was stocky but dressed fashionably.

"Hello, sorry you had to wait on me," said Helen as she exited her car.

The couple said their hellos. "No, really, Hal's not happy unless he's very early to an appointment," said Marie. "Helen, this is our son, Frederick." She gestured to the third Thompson in their midst.

Helen smiled at Frederick. He looked as if he was old enough to be in college, plus he was dressed about a preppie as you could get. He was wearing madras shorts with a matching, solid polo shirt. His sockless feet were clad in a pair of deck shoes.

"Please, call me Freddie," the young man said as he stuck out his hand.

"Hi, Freddie," said Helen, taking his hand. He didn't so much shake her hand as give it a couple of gentle squeezes. He had his father's good looks minus the excess weight. She could tell from his confident smile that he probably had great success with the coeds.

"Well, let's take a look inside, shall we?" said Helen as she led the Thompsons into the house.

They made a tour of the downstairs of the two story home. The elder Thompsons expressed approval of some features and disapproval at others. Freddie seemed to content to simply tag along and only offered an opinion when he was asked. The tour ended at the French doors to a flagstone terrace that overlooked about a half-acre of decorative garden.

"Hey, guys, why don't you check out the garden while Ms. Somers and I do the upstairs," Freddie said to his parents.

Mr. Thompson checked his watch and said, "Good idea, son. We're running a bit late." And with that, Hal and Marie were out the door.

"I knew they were dying to get out there," said Freddie. "They're just a couple of frustrated landscapers."

"Uh ... okay," said Helen. If that's how they wanted to do things, she could only go along. "The foyer is this way." She led Freddie back to the main entrance and the stairway that curved upward to the second floor. At the top of the stairs she turned left and said, "The smaller bedrooms are down here." They made a cursory inspection of those bedrooms and baths.

That put them back at the landing at the top of the stairs. "I really wish your parents would see this," Helen said as she gestured to a double door. She opened one of the doors and stepped inside an enormous master bedroom.

"As you can see, it's a generous space for a master bedroom," Helen said as she walked to the center of the room.

"I'll say," said Freddie. He stood, hands in pockets, just inside the door, taking the high ceiling and square footage. "You could almost play half-court basketball in here," he said with a laugh.

"There's more," said Helen. She went to a pair of folding doors and pulled one to the side. "Plenty of closet space, too." Freddie gave an appreciative whistle at a closet that could have held a couple of the lesser bedrooms of the house.

"I suppose the bathroom is just as opulent?" Freddie asked.

Well, at least he's showing some interest, thought Helen. "Of course," she said aloud. They trekked next door to the bathroom. "It has dual basins," she said as she motioned at the marble topped counter. "And over here is a whirlpool tub for two." The oversized tub sat next to a shower.

"That looks like fun," he said, leering into the tub.

"Yes, it can be," Helen said with the air of someone who knows from firsthand experience. "Now let me show you the view," she said before Freddie could respond. She strode out of the bathroom and across the room to a set of French doors that mirrored the ones from downstairs. Opening the doors, they walked out on a balcony that overlooked the garden. Helen went to the railing and rested her hands on the top. Freddie stood beside her and put his hand on hers. Helen glanced at his hand, but didn't move.

Out in the garden, Hal and Marie were gesturing and pointing as if they were already directing a revision of the grounds. "You know," Freddie said, "they really like this place."

Helen looked at him, encouraging him to continue.

Freddie stroked the back of her hand with his little finger. "In fact, I think my parents like this place more than they want to let on." Helen lifted an eyebrow. "And I think I could be persuaded to persuade them to close the deal."

"I see," said Helen. "So what would it take to persuade you?"

Now it was his turn to quirk an eyebrow. "The I'm a man and you're a woman sort of persuasion."

Freddie's look was expectant — with a trace of boyish hope. Helen liked that; it was cocky and condescending that she would have rejected. She took his wrist and pulled him back inside. She made sure they were out of sight from the doors before she stopped and lifted her face. Right on cue, Freddie kissed her.

Mmmm ... he's good, thought Helen. He had soft, playful and moist lips. They kissed lightly for a full minute before Helen decided that this was not some romantic make-out session. She slipped her tongue between his lips. That seemed to rev Freddie's engine. His hands went to her waist, and their kisses became deeper and wetter. He put his hands on her ass and pulled her closer.

Helen moved her leg between his and rubbed her pussy mound high on his thigh. She could feel the pulsing hardness of his erection. Her hands moved over his back and squeezed his biceps. Freddie was slim but soft. He certainly didn't have the broad shoulders and well defined muscles of her son, Donnie. Oh god, why am I comparing him to Donnie, Helen wondered? She had an armful of aroused, young male right here, no need to bring in thoughts of someone she shouldn't have.

Freddie kissed her cheek and then began to nibble his way down her neck. He reached up and fondled her breast. Helen had worn a light silk blouse over a navy hued, lacy full cup bra this morning. That let her tits move like dark, full shadows under her top. It was something that her male clients appreciated. Now Freddie was sliding the slick material of her blouse over her thirty-eight D cups.

"Mmm ... your breasts are beautiful," he whispered. He undid a button on her blouse and slipped a hand inside. He gently squeezed and fingered her bra clad breast. He was almost too slow, too reverent. She wasn't some school girl who needed to be seduced. Her mind wondered back to Donnie. She wondered if he had fucked yet. She bet he had. He had the looks. He had that slow, shy smile that drew girls in. She bet that all he had to do was to pull out that club of a cock he carried around and the girls would swoon. She bet ... Oh shit, girl, you better get on with this, she told herself.

She withdrew Freddie's hand from her blouse. "Come on," she said and pulled him into the bathroom, closing the door. She unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it without letting the garment brush the floor. She folded it neatly in half and laid it on the counter. Her panties, thank goodness they were the frilly ones that matched her bra, soon fell atop her skirt.

Freddie was standing there looking slightly stunned. "Never seen a woman undress before?" she asked.

"Of ... of course," he stammered. "You're just so damn hot." His hands arrowed in on her tits once more.

Helen could practically feel her cunt oozing her juices. I'm hotter than you know, she thought. She unzipped his shorts and soon found that Freddie was a boxers kind of guy. That made it easy to pull his rigid cock into the open.

Helen stroked his swollen penis. It was averaged size, maybe a bit bigger. It certainly wasn't as big as her husband's, and far from what Donnie had down there. But Freddie's cock had the virtue of being here, and of being hard and eager.

"Nice one," she said. You could never go wrong by praising a young stud's cock.

"Thanks," he said, trying to sound as if he heard that compliment all the time.

Helen stepped back and jumped up so as to be seated between the basins on the counter. She moved until she knew that her pussy was situated at the edge. She and Robert had fucked in more than one bathroom. "Come here, Freddie," she said as she spread her legs.

She saw that he was so hard, his dick fairly vibrated as he moved between her legs. He was one second from plunging his cock into her lust swollen pussy lips when she said, "You better make sure I'm all lubed up down there." In truth, she knew that she was more than ready. But she wanted Freddie to work for his fun.

He began slowly, at first merely brushing his lips up and down on the wet lips of her cunt. As he licked gently along her puffy slit, he extended his tongue a little and stroked it along the dewy crease where the outer lips of her cunt were barely parted. Freddie spread her vaginal lips and flipped his tongue across her distended clit.

"Ohhh, Freddie!" Helen moaned as she pulled his face to her pussy. He was surprisingly good at this. "That's it," she urged as she hunched against his questing lips and tongue. He laved at her throbbing clitoris as his lips closed around it to suck the bud-like nerve center up inside his mouth. Electric-like bolts of sexual excitement thundered through Helen as she felt his teeth nipping at her sensitive bud, she threw wide her legs and forced him on.

Helen kept Freddie at his heated oral play for two full minutes. She could feel her orgasm building. Pulling at his head she said, "Now Freddie, get that prick of yours in me."

"Yeah," Freddie said, as he looked up with sex glazed eyes. He stood, positioned his cock head between Helen's inviting pussy lips, and pushed in one movement. "Oh yes," he moaned as her flesh wrapped around his like hot, oiled satin.

"Come on, show me what you've got," urged Helen. "Pound my pussy ... POUND MY PUSSY."

"Yeah ... okay," Freddie said. He grabbed Helen's ass and shagged her as fast as his hips could move.

Helen dug her fingers into Freddie's shoulders. His cock was no pussy stretcher, but he was slamming it to the hilt with every stroke. She came. It was a nice orgasm, but she knew the next one would be the one to send her into that realm where nothing mattered but the sensations in her loin. If he could just...

Helen felt Freddie's strokes falter. She opened her eyes to see his expression screwed up in an orgasmic grimace. His body shuddered and he slowed to a breathless stop. He'd lasted all of thirty seconds. Helen sighed in frustration. No wonder the boy was better than expected in foreplay — he couldn't last worth a damn. He stepped back. Already, his cock was a shriveled, wet disappointment.

"Helloooooo?" came the faint voice of Marie Thompson from somewhere on the first floor.