Chapter 6

Supper was weird. I know I'm using that word a lot, but it's the perfect word for what was happening to me. I mean, think about it. Lots of teenage guys have fantasies about women like Mrs. Carson. It's as common as breathing. Lots of those guys are actually around one or more of the women they fantasize about. I suspect that some of those women realize that, and some of them might even tease the guys a little, just to string them along. After all, when a woman reaches that age, she's probably intimately aware that there are tons of twenty-somethings out there who look younger and sexier than she does. So getting some attention can be kind of nice.

But that's all normal. What's weird is when the guy gets to live out the fantasy. What's weird is when that woman falls in love with the boy who has loved her for years. And yes, I'm fully aware that a guy that age doesn't understand love, or what it means. I freely admit that, at that stage of the game, I could no more tell if I was in love with Mrs. Carson than I could accurately forecast what my mother would serve for dinner three days from then.

What's weird is when you spend time with your best friend, the guy you've known all your life, and who you have no secrets from, and your penis is still sending out waves of happiness because his mother sucked on it only twenty minutes ago. Okay, so yes, I admit I had one secret from him, but think about it. I know what I would have thought if he'd taken me aside and said, "Bobby, I have to tell you something, or I'm going to explode, and we have no secrets from each other right? Well ... I'm fucking your mother, and we're in love." I would have laughed. Then I'd have hit him and said that was a joke in extremely poor taste, even for best friends.

Of course, I wasn't fucking his mother. But I knew I was going to. I didn't know if I was in love with her or not, but I knew I was going to push my virgin penis into her pussy some day. I had no idea what that was going to be like. I was afraid I'd do it all wrong. I wanted to do that more than anything I could think of, but I was terrified at the same time.

My life was just weird.

I was reflecting on how, possibly, all that weirdness was normal in this situation, and that was why society frowned on it. Society knew that kids my age couldn't cope with the weirdness, and so they banned that kind of thing, for the good of the teen. My reverie was disturbed by Scott.

"Bobby!" He sounded frustrated. I looked at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I've been talking to you for ten minutes and you never heard a word I said."

"Oh. Sorry."

"What's going on? Do you have cancer or something?"

That got my attention.

"No, Scott, I don't have cancer," I said, patiently. "I just have things on my mind."

Mrs. Carson called us for supper then, which got me off the hook, but I knew I was going to have to come up with some conundrum worthy of my continued distraction. Scott wasn't going to give up until I told him what was bothering me. I wondered what I'd tell him.

The weirdness continued at supper. Mrs. Carson acted completely normal. She didn't look at me differently, or say anything different. She asked us both how school was going and what teachers we liked and didn't (and why.) I kept looking at her lips, as she opened her mouth to take in food.

Scott nudged me and shot me a dirty look. I gave him back a look that said, "What?!"

When his mother got up to get something out of the microwave, he leaned over and said, "Quit staring at my mother. You're creeping me out."

I hadn't realized he'd seen me.

There was special desert, which was chocolate pie, with chocolate ice cream on the side. She said it was to celebrate Scott's eighteenth birthday, which had happened while I was taking care of my dad. I hadn't been able to get away for his party. Actually, he didn't have a party, and she said this was to make up for that.

"Mom," he said. "I didn't want a party. I told you that."

She reached for his plate and he snatched it away so fast that his ice cream ended up on the floor. I laughed. He stuck his fork in his ice cream and moved it from the floor back to his plate. His mother groaned, and then fixed my plate. She had a smaller piece for herself.

After supper we watched a movie, during which Scott fell asleep. He started snoring and I nudged him. "Get up and go to bed!" I ordered. "We can't hear the movie because of your snoring."

"Won't do any good," said his mother. She took a sip of the Coke she'd been nursing.

"Why not?" I asked.

"I told the doctor he was having trouble sleeping, and needed a good night of uninterrupted sleep," she said. "I put what the doctor gave me into his pie."

I stared at her. Scott didn't have any trouble sleeping. He slept so hard that a bomb going off wouldn't wake him up. I was always the first one up when one of us slept over. Sometimes he didn't get up until nine or ten.

"You drugged your own son?" I asked, incredulous.

She stood up.

"I need a shower." She started unbuttoning her blouse. It was red, and only had three buttons on it. She'd put it on after she sucked my brains out through my cock, and before Scott got home from practice. It had been showing a lot of cleavage at supper. Now, as it fell open, it showed a lot of sexy red bra. She shrugged the blouse off and tossed it on the chair she'd been sitting in. She looked right at me as she unhooked and then pushed her slacks down to her hips. Her panties matched the bra, except they were a lot smaller. A lot smaller.

She didn't twirl and ask me how she looked, or if I 'liked, ' or any of that stuff most girls would have done. She knew she looked fabulous. She sashayed again, this time over towards me.

"You probably need a shower too," she commented. She reached between the cups of her bra and made a little twisting movement. The bra came apart and she shrugged that off too.

"Did you know my shower is big enough for two people at the same time?"

She turned and walked away from me. There was no back to the panties. I mean they were thong panties. The bra dangled in her hand. She didn't look back to see if I was following her.

I looked at Scott. He looked pretty comfortable. He was cutting logs like crazy. A doctor had given her whatever she'd given him.

I decided she was right. I needed a shower.

As strange as it might sound, the shower wasn't weird. That's because it was one of the fantasies I had had about Mrs. Carson. And the reality was remarkably like the fantasy. There were lots of hands sliding all over slippery, wet bodies, both hers and mine. There were lots of bodies rubbing against each other. There was lots of kissing. She jacked on my cock, but not constantly. I would later learn that was to keep me at peak hardness.

As much as the shower part matched the fantasy, the part after we shut the water off and got out did not.

In the fantasy, the drying off part had gone kind of quickly. In the fantasy, getting dry wasn't as important as getting to the bed. And, of course, in the fantasy I climbed on top of her and did what the guys on the porn videos did.

She took her time drying me off. She still touched my penis often, and kissed the tip once. She dried herself off too, showing me her body while she did it. She shook her breasts at me. She sat and opened her legs, showing me her pussy as she dabbed gently at it with the towel. And during all of this, she didn't say a word. She just looked at me with those eyes that promised so much.

She took my hand and pulled me to her bed. When she pushed me down onto it, I thought she was going to give me another one of those amazing blow jobs, but that wasn't in the cards. Not then.

Instead, she climbed on top of me.

"Are you really a virgin, Bobby?" she asked, softly.

Don't ask me why, but I looked at my penis. It was leaning there, drunkenly. Just past it was that line of hair on her lower abdomen that pointed right at her pussy lips. Above that were her breasts. Her nipples looked swollen and dark.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Do you want to stay a virgin?" she asked.

Suddenly I had no breath to speak with. I don't know what happened to it. I said the word, "No" but no sound came out. I shook my head back and forth, just in case she couldn't read lips.

"May I please have your virginity?" she asked.

It was incredible. She asked it just like she was asking someone to pass the salt or something.

I just nodded this time. I didn't even try to speak.

"I've pleased you twice," she said, reaching for my cock. Her fingers gripped it and stood it up. "Now I want to please myself. That's why I'm sitting on you. I'm going to be on top until I get what I so desperately need, Bobby. I promise you'll have a good time too, but for a little while, it's just about pleasing me. Is that all right with you?"

Like I'd say no?!

Then, as if we'd practiced it a hundred times, she stood up on her knees and reached to grasp my penis, pulling it upright. She pushed it with her hand and when she sat down I felt this incredible furnace-like heat surround my penis... all of my penis. It was completely different than when she'd sucked me. That had been hot, and had felt fabulous. This wasn't like that at all. This was the kind of hot when it's a hundred degrees in the shade, and you step into the sunlight at noon, and you think it might just melt you. When she sucked me, I felt her lips here and there, but this was all over my cock. It was like my penis had been transported to an alternate universe where it was five hundred degrees, but only my penis was in that universe.

She leaned forward and put her hands on my chest, leaning her weight there. She scooted forward, as if she wasn't quite comfortable and was trying to get that way. Then she scooted back.

"Mmmmmm," she said. At least that sound came from her throat. Her eyes were closed. It wasn't a purr, but I suddenly knew what authors meant, when they said a character purred something.

It wasn't until she'd scooted forward and back half a dozen more times that I realized what she was doing. I'd never had sex, but I'd read about it a lot. I'd never touched a clitoris, but I knew they existed, and where hers was. It was what was rubbing the base of my cock as she moved.

She gave this sobbing little whimper and suddenly she was moving like crazy. It was like she was trying to tear my cock off at the root. Her fingers dug into the skin of my chest so painfully that I grunted with the pain. Then she stopped, frozen, and her head went back and she made these awful sounds in her throat like she was dying. Except that all that heat around my cock started throbbing, until it actually felt like there was a hand on my penis, squeezing it and then letting it go.

Don't get me wrong. I was having a heck of a time. But it was more like the first time I operated a car by myself. There was a lot of emotion involved, but there was a lot of observation going on too. The euphoria of driving didn't keep me from noticing the feel of the wheel in my hands, and how the car responded to moving the wheel, and how it felt to push and let off the accelerator. I could feel the car rocking on the springs during turns. I was hyper aware of the world around me the first time I drove. And this first time I had sex with a woman, even if it wasn't the sex I had fantasized about, I was hyper aware of that too.

I don't know what made me do it, but right in the middle of all that stuff that I knew, intellectually, meant she was having an orgasm, I reached up to pinch both her turgid nipples. When I did that, her head fell forward, and her still damp hair flopped against her cheeks as she gave out this almost inhuman groan. Her pussy rippled even faster around my cock, and I felt the force of her panting breath on my face.

Her fingers relaxed. The pulsing of her pussy stopped. Her elbows bent ever so slowly until her upper body lay down on top of me. Her breasts crushed and her face burrowed into my neck, between the side of my head and my shoulder.

"I am so fucked," she murmured. At first I thought she was paying me a compliment, when all I did was lie there. And squeeze her nipples.

I reached up and stroked her back. It felt so smooth and warm and good under my hands. Just the feel of her skin made my prick jump inside her.

She pushed up and stared down at me.

"I am so fucked," she said again. "I knew I needed this, but I had no idea I'd feel like this."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like a school girl," she said. "Like it was my first time, too." She blinked. "I'm so in love with you, Bobby. It never felt like this with my husband."

"Your ex-husband," I reminded her.

"Whatever," she said, and sat back up. "As far as I'm concerned, he never existed. You're twice the man he ever was, and you're just a punk kid." She grinned at me to soften the jibe.

She started moving again. This time she dangled her breasts in my face and told me to suck her nipples again. She had two orgasms in a row while I did that. It was like she could just have them on command. She told me each time. The first time she said, "I'm cumming now, Bobby. I'm cumming on your beautiful penis." The second time she said, "Ohhhh it's happening again so soon. I love your cock, Baby. I'm cumming on your cock again."

You can't remain aloof from what's happening when a woman talks to you like that. My hyper observation stage progressed, which I suppose means the shock of actually being in a woman wore off. Pretty soon all I could pay attention to was how good it felt when she moved on me, because it moved the skin on the shaft of my cock. And the tip of my penis was also digging into the back of her pussy, and that felt amazing too. Of course the feel and taste of her nipples in my mouth was also fantastic. So by the end of her second orgasm, I was feeling pretty close to my own.