Chapter 3

I tried to frame a picture of her right there in the bathroom, but everything I tried looked stupid.

"You can look all you want," she said, thinking I was trying to extend the time I could see her like this.

"That's not it," I said, understanding her perfectly. "It just looks common."

She pushed me out of the bathroom, into her bedroom.

"In here?"

I walked around. She had a west-facing window, and the sun was going down. I stood her by the window so the sun hit her body and told her to act like she was looking out the window, waiting for her lover to get home.

I said it exactly like that! Can you believe it? I actually said, "your lover."

She didn't bat an eye, and looked out the window.

I took the picture. Then I moved and took another one.

She hadn't freaked out on me yet, so I pushed the envelope.

"Can you lower the part where it fastens?" I asked, hopefully.

"You want cleavage?" she asked, arching that eyebrow again.

"Desperately," I admitted, just telling the truth.

She laughed. "At least you're honest."

She tugged at the fold and for a second I thought the whole towel was going to drop.

"Ooops!"she squealed, catching it and ruining my day. "We wouldn't want that, now."

She knew exactly what I wanted, and I about crapped when she gave it to me.

I refocused. She'd moved the towel so low that I wondered if a hint of areola might show. I snapped like crazy. Somehow it looked like there was more of her legs too, so I took a lot of shots of her legs.

"You always make me feel so good," she said.

"I wish I could see all of them," I said back. I think something had broken in my brain, and was trying to get me killed, or at least kicked out.

"I'm an old woman," she said.

"I wish you'd stop saying that," I said, peering through the lens and moving to a different vantage point. "You're not old, you're not ugly. You're a babe and I think you know it. I don't understand why you don't go out with guys. You could have any one of them you wanted."

I snapped a picture, but even I knew I had taken every possible angle. I let the camera fall. She had one hand held flat against her stomach, and she was just looking at me.

"I am an older woman," she said.

A man might have heard her hinting that this puppy love thing had probably run its course. But I wasn't a man.

"You're a mature Playboy Bunny," I argued.

"You don't really want to see my saggy old breasts," she said.

"If I found a bottle on the seashore, and rubbed it, and a genie came out, my first with would be, "I hope that towel falls off of Mrs. Carson, and she doesn't catch it this time."

She finally looked shocked.

"Don't you lie to me, Bobby Newman!" Her voice was much higher than usual.

"I'm not lying, Mrs. Carson," I said. I was in so deep, it just didn't matter if I told the truth.

"This is so wrong," she moaned.

"Why? You're a beautiful woman. I'm a guy. I can't help but want to see you."

"You're so young," she whispered.

"A hundred years ago I'd already be married," I pointed out. "We talked about that in school last week."

There was a long silence, as she simply stared at me.

"I can't. What if Scott walked in?"

I looked at my watch.

"He won't be here for another thirty minutes," I said.

She gave a half hysterical bark of laughter.

"Scott can never know," she whispered.

"Anything you want," I offered., "Just please let me see them. Just this once. Please?"

She gave a nervous little giggle.

"You're pathetic. All men are pathetic."

"That's because there are women in the world like you," I said. "Women like you make us all pathetic."

A different look came over her face as one eyebrow rose. Suddenly I felt like I was being inspected again.

"You've done this before ... haven't you." It wasn't a question.

"Done what?"

"Seduced a woman."

I was shocked. No woman had ever said anything even remotely close to something like that to me. It must have shown on my face.

"No?" She took a step closer to me. "I've thought about this, Bobby. You're very smooth. I thought the innocent act was fake at first, but now I'm not so sure. I want to believe you're exactly who you act like, but..."

Her eyes were suddenly steady on my face. "Are you a virgin, Bobby?"

I had never been asked that question by a woman either. I had to swallow twice before I could get my mouth to work.

"I guess so," I said. I could feel my face turning red. Now she was going to think of me as a little boy again.

"You guess so?" She smiled. "I'd think you'd remember losing your virginity, Bobby. I know I do, and that was a long time ago."

Believe it or not, all this time, while all this was going on, my penis had lain there as if dead. But when she said that, it stood up and took notice. I looked down. Don't ask me why. Maybe I thought it would show.

Turns out it did. I was wearing jeans, but they weren't up to the task of taming the lump growing in them.

She looked down too. Suddenly I had a pretty good feeling of how she felt when I looked at her. I'd never thought about it like that before. It was kind of uncomfortable, and, just like that, I felt guilty for probably making her feel self-conscious.

"My, my," she said. "Maybe you're not that sweet, innocent little boy any more, are you, Bobby." That wasn't a question either. There was something in her voice that made my prick give a little jerk. She saw that too.

"And I've been teasing you all these years," she said softly, "thinking you had an outlet."

"Me?" My mouth dropped open.

"I'm sorry, Bobby," she said.

I thought that meant that seeing her breasts was off the table.

"It's okay," I said. I know I sounded dejected. "I know I'm just a kid. But I had to try. I've wanted to see them for so long."

Her hands went to where the towel was tucked in.

"These?" she asked, and suddenly the towel came apart. I swear it was just like in those jokes where some guy in a raincoat flashes some woman. One instant everything was covered, and the next instant everything was right there, making my eyes feel like they might jump right out of my head. I couldn't even decide where to look.

"Take a picture," she laughed. "It will last longer."

"Oh man," I moaned. I think I swayed a bit, because she lurched toward me, dropping the towel as she reached for me with both hands.

"Careful, there, Tiger," she said, grasping my shoulders. "Let's not fall over and get hurt. We'd have to explain that to Scott. And we don't want to break your camera either."

"Oh man," I moaned again. She was right there!

The back door slammed. Leave it to Coach to let them go early on the only day it mattered to me that he keep them late.

Scott always slammed the back door, and his mother always yelled at him for it. Her eyes darted toward that part of the house.

"Thank you for fixing my drain," she whispered. Then she leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn't really a kiss, I suppose. It was more of a peck. But she pressed her warm lips firmly against mine, and it was a very drawn out peck. I felt something brush against the front of my jeans too, but it might have been my imagination. She turned me around and gave me a gentle push towards her bedroom door.

"Close it when you leave," she whispered.

I didn't. I'm surprised I could even make it out of the room without slamming into something. All I could see were those breasts, and a very quick view of what could only be trimmed pussy hair. I'd seen lots of pictures of women down there, and all she had was a thin stripe that went up and down. I wanted to turn around for another look. Maybe she sensed that, because she whispered, "Go!" urgently.

I barely got out of there and turned toward the kitchen before Scott showed up, holding his book bag and uniform, which needed to be washed badly.

"What happened to you?" he asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

I didn't answer. He must have looked me over.

"Dude!" he whispered. "You have a boner! Are you crazy? What if Mom sees it?!"

"Um..." I had no idea what to say.

"What happened?"

He looked anxious. I had to say something. All I could think of was the truth.

"I was walking past her door, and she came out of her bathroom with a towel wrapped around her," I said.

"Is that all?" I could hear the laughter in his voice. "Man, you have it so bad for my mother," he said., "You're pathetic. I've seen her like that a hundred times."

That was the second time I'd been called pathetic that night. I didn't know quite how to feel about that. It had been a pretty good night, after all. In fact, it was probably the best night I'd ever had.

"Well I haven't," I said, probably too loud. We were only ten feet from her door. "So cut me some slack."

"You'll never get past her, will you?" he teased. "Too bad you're not ten years older. Maybe she'd go for a younger man." He grinned.

"I thought we were going to do homework," I groused.

"Right here." He held up the book bag. "Do you need to go beat off first?" He snickered.

I pushed him.

He pushed me back, of course, and my feet got tangled up. I protected the camera automatically when I fell, landing on my shoulder and rolling to my back. I ended up right in front of her door, and when I looked up, there was half her face, peeking through the door I hadn't closed when she told me to. The door went closed instantly.

Scott came up to me.

"Why do you have your camera?" he asked. He frowned. "You didn't try to take a picture of my mom ... did you?"

"Of course not," I whispered. "I was going to get some moon shots tonight." I hoped there was a moon.

"No problem," he said. He dropped the things in his hands, turned around and bent over. "Here's your moon!" he said. Two seconds later there was the white, split moon he had created. He laughed and then snatched up his stuff, running for the kitchen, expecting me to chase him. I looked at her door instead.

It opened a foot.

Her face ... above still naked breasts, peered down at me. Her right index finger was vertical, splitting those warm lips into halves, reminding me not to tell her son what had happened.

Like I needed that reminder.

Then the door closed, and all I could think about was that I hadn't looked down, to get a second look at her pussy.

Of course that little episode changed things too. Mrs. Carson wasn't a slut. I couldn't even imagine her that way. And I didn't think of what she'd done as something slutty. It was more like when you go mow a lawn, and they give you a hundred dollar tip, because they know you're saving up for a bike. What she had done was give me an incredible gift, and when somebody gives you a gift, you don't just assume they'll give you another one.

So I didn't expect anything to change, exactly, except that I knew it had anyway. I guess what I'm saying is that I had no idea what to expect.

I didn't stay over that night. During school, we were only allowed to stay over on Friday and Saturday nights. We had games on Friday nights, and that made us get home really late, but that was okay because we didn't have to get up the next morning. And, because my parents always went to bed early, I stayed over at his house on Friday nights. We might spend the next night at my house, but Friday nights were at the Carson residence.