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The Dating Game

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© Copyright 2001 SlowHand.



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It was almost 5:00 P.M on a Friday, the end of a long week, and I was ready to go home. I stared across the desk at my best friend Mark who had been camped out in my office for at least the last half-hour. He had that unmistakable gleam in his eye that Iíd seen so many times before. The one telling me he wasnít going to give up, no matter what I said.

"Okay, like what else are you going to do?" he asked, obviously frustrated that I wasnít backing down.

"Sit at home and spank the monkey," I replied.

"Címon, youíve spanked that monkey so many times he probably canít sit down."

"Yeah, but I can lift a car with my right arm, how 'bout you?"

He laughed. "Alright, level with me; how long has it been since youíve been on a date with a woman?"

"This isnít a date weíre talking about, Mark."

"No, but itís a step in the right direction. Susan has assured me that the guest list will be well stocked with single women."

"Single women in search of rich attorney-types, I bet."

"Sure, there's some of that. Some of the women are attorneys themselves. Actually, this is a real wine tasting club. It's pure coincidence that most of the members are attorneys.

"Friends of Susan's?" I asked.

"Yeah, or people she works with."

"I donít know Mark, the visual I get is a bunch of yuppies sniffing glasses and talking like Biff and Buffy about clay versus grass tennis courts. Not really my bag . . ."

"Nah, itís way more casual then that. Humor me will ya, if youíre bored you can leave early."

"Why is it so important to you that I attend this thing?"

He let out a long sigh. "Because Iím your best friend, youíve only been on one lousy date since your divorce three years ago and I promised Susan that I'd make sure there were single men there -- good enough reasons?"

I glanced at the clock, then back to Mark. If I didnít give in, weíd be there when the cleaning crew arrived. "Alright, but if itís what I think it is, Iím out of there within an hour."

"Deal," he said with a satisfied grin.

 

~~:~~:~~

 

I had more than second thoughts about Markís party idea. Wine was not my thing and I couldnít describe the difference between a jug of Ripple and a bottle of cabernet. Iím also not the extroverted type who can show up at a gathering and thrive with a bunch of total strangers. Still, he had a point; it was getting pretty old sitting home every Friday night where the only intimacy I experienced involved a magazine and a bottle of lotion. Nothing ventured meant nothing gained and, having laid the groundwork for a quick exit, I decided to make an appearance.

Realizing that the point of going to Mark and Susanís party was to meet somebody, I figured I should pay some attention to my wardrobe. I guessed that a wine tasting party would be casual, yet not too casual, so I chose a pair of pressed khakis with a light blue button down Polo shirt. I got everything ready and made one last check in the mirror. In truth, I was pleased with what I saw. Granted, I wouldnít be giving Brad Pitt a run for his money, but at thirty-six, I was only a few pounds over my college weight and I still had my original hairline. Three days a week for the last year had been spent in the gym and I was proud to say that it showed. My track record in the dating department might not be something to brag about, but I'm sure that had more to do with the hours I worked and my distaste for the Ďgameí of it all than anything else.

I arrived fashionably late to a mixed crowd of about twenty people. The party started in the house with some light snacks before moving to the garden area. Mark and his wife Susan had hired a Ďwine guyí to lead the crowd through the tasting. Actually I think his official title was ĎVintage Connoisseurí. All I knew is I wanted to be a Ďwine guyí too. Where else can one masquerade as a subject matter expert while drinking for free and rubbing elbows with a bunch of single women?

I grabbed my first glass and stole to a quiet part of the yard where I could check out the crowd without being noticed. Mark was right; there did seem to be a number of attractive women present. There was one cutie I thought about approaching, until some guy stepped up, handed her a glass, and stuffed his tongue in her mouth; safe bet they were a couple.

There was an even more attractive blonde across the way wearing a skirt so short that it barely covered her aerobically tuned buns of steel. Still, judging from the way she was twisting her hair and hanging on every word spoken by some rich-looking-attorney-type, I didnít see potential there either. As expected, it was going to be an early evening where I left just like Iíd arrived -- alone and still very much single.

The crowd was interrupted from their mingling by the wine guy announcing that the tasting was about to begin. I listened intently and followed his every instruction, swirling my glass, sniffing it, and trying to find the Ďwine legsí he assured us existed. I didnít have a clue what I was doing, but figured I was faking it pretty well. I had to admit the wine they were passing out did taste better than the cheap stuff I stocked at home; you know, the kind that comes in a box with a plastic spout that sticks out the side.

I was into my second swallow while those around me were still sniffing and rambling on about the wineís Ďbodyí when a conservative looking woman in front of me took a big gulp, swirled it around in her mouth, and spat it towards the garden. Then, as if things couldnít get more surreal, several people around her followed suit. I stared in disbelief as, like a bunch of camels, they were all taking mouthfuls of wine, swishing it around like mouthwash, then spitting in out.

"It's so they won't get drunk," I heard an amused female voice say from behind me.

I turned to find a very attractive thirty-something brunette, smiling at me as she sipped her own glass.

"Excuse me?"

"They're just tasting it . . . the spitting is so they wonít get drunk."

I looked back to the crowd, then to her, as the meaning of her words registered.

"Oh, I see," I said, feeling myself blush.

"My name is Mary," she said, reaching her hand out to shake mine.

"David," I replied, still trying to recover. "Nice to meet you Mary." Her grip was firm; I always liked a woman with a firm handshake.

"I take it from the expression on your face youíve never been to one of these parties before?"

"You take it right," I smiled. "Mark invited me. We work together."

"Oh yeah? I work with Susan."

"So you must be an attorney?"

"Paralegal."

"Thatís like an attorney, isnít it?"

"No, not really, more like the person who does all the grunt work."

"Ahhhhh, I see. Then youíll appreciate this great lawyer joke I heard the other day."

"No, I really donít enjoy those jokes," she said, turning and facing the crowd.

"Okay . . . then Iíll save it for another day." Strike one I thought to myself as I stuffed my tail securely between my legs and took a big sip of wine.

We stood in silence for what seemed like minutes.

"Speaking of lawyers, there must be quite a few here tonight," she said.

"Yeah, I would think so. Mark's mentioned that a lot of networking happens at these parties."

"I wonder how you would know when a lawyer is well hung?" she asked, turning to me and sipping her wine.

I stared at her, not quite sure how to respond. "Excuse me . . ."

"Well hung . . . I wonder how you could tell?"

She continued to stare in my direction like was supposed to help her with an answer. "I wouldn't know," I finally said, shrugging my shoulders.

"I suppose you could try to get a finger between the rope and his neck," she added with a smile.

Her response was so unexpected I almost choked on my wine. I liked her immediately. She had a sense of humor and was unpredictable, both traits I admired in any human being. As we talked I found myself drawn in further by her incredible smile. It was a big, bright, white smile that radiated warmth and reassurance, paired with a wonderfully contagious giggle that made me want to laugh with her, no matter what the joke was.

No doubt about it, I was charmed by her personality, but her looks didn't exactly leave me disappointed. She was a very attractive woman, with long, natural eyelashes that only carried a hint of mascara and clear brown eyes that seemed to take in everything around us. Her skin was smooth and a light shade of almond, her features strong, but not overbearing. Where so many women these days cut their hair short, Mary had let hers grow to a point just past her shoulders, tying it back in a ponytail, while leaving two loose strands dangling in a wonderful frame of her features. I was dying to check out her figure, but contained myself, deciding that wouldn't be very gentleman-like.

We spent the next hour sampling additional wines, none of which I could name if my life depended on it. Our conversation seemed effortless, much like we had known one another far longer than a few minutes. I offered to turn my back if she wanted to spit, but she assured me that wasnít her style either. I did notice she eventually switched to ginger ale. I considered that a wise choice and followed suit with a soft drink of my own, as I was starting to get hammered after my third glass.

She excused herself to use the bathroom, stopping to talk to a couple on her way towards the house. Being the opportunist that I am, I used the break in our conversation to steal a better look. In truth, I wouldnít have been overly disappointed had her figure not measured up to her pretty face, but disappointed I wasnít. She had a better than average backside, with proportionate legs and strong calf muscles. As she turned to the side, I saw the profile of her breasts -- definitely more than a handful. The whole package was nicely accented by a form-fitting, red summer dress that was covered in a bright, floral pattern. As she disappeared into the house, I spotted Mark emerging from the crowd. "Hey buddy, great party," I said as he approached.

"Admit it, youíre having fun, arenít you?"

"Yeah, I have to admit, I am. This wine is good stuff. I even had to cut myself off I was enjoying it so much."

"Wine, smine, I saw you talking to the 'Virgin Mary'."

"The who?" I said laughing.

"Mary Hatcher -- the guys around Susanís office call her the Virgin Mary. Of all the single women here tonight, you pick the one who has sworn off sex. You do have the luck, donít you pal?"

"Iím not following you Mark."

"Never mind, did you ask her out?"

"Nah, weíre just chatting."

"So you're going to ask her out?"

"Maybe, maybe not -- why do you care?"

"Just trying to take care of you pal, thatís all."

"Yeah, thanks," I said with a smile. "What do you know about her?"

"Besides the no sex thing, not much. She works with Susan. Workaholic type -- spends all her time in the office. I donít think sheís an attorney though."

"Paralegal. I figured that much out on my own. So she's not married?"

"Divorced."

"How'd you hear about the Ďno sexí thing?"

"Some female bonding session between her and Susan. Something about being so tired of guys looking for one-night stands that she's swearing it off until she meets Mr. Right."

"Probably doesnít help working with a stable of horny attorneys," I added.

"No doubt. Itís a shame too; sheís got a body to die for. I saw her in a swimsuit at the Firm's boondoggle last year in Maui." He tipped back his glass and drained the remainder of the wine, smacking his lips when he was finished.

"Yeah, she looks pretty good in that sundress."

"Oh trust me," Mark grinned. "See her in a swimsuit and sheíll bring you to your knees."

"Well, Iím not much into one night stands myself."

"Sure youíre not. I mean, itís not like youíve had a bunch of sex recently -- you know, like youíd have to cope with a sudden dry spell."

"Fuck off Mark."

He laughed. "Here she comes, act natural."

Mary stepped up to us. "Mark, I need to run. I have to go into the office tomorrow. Thanks for everything and tell Susan I said thanks also."

"Yeah, sure thing, thanks for coming," Mark said.

Mary looked at me. "David, it was nice meeting you, maybe Iíll see you at another tasting party. Iím part of the same wine club that Mark and Susan belong to."

"Maybe," I replied. "Nice meeting you too, Mary."

I was disappointed, but not surprised. This was pretty much how my luck with women went. Mark was staring at me intensely, his eyes telling me what I already knew. If I didnít say something, and quick, my odds for seeing Mary again were slim to none. I took a deep breath and blurted it out. "Mary, can I walk you to the door, there was something I wanted to ask you."

"Uh, sure . . . Mark, donít forget to tell Susan I said thanks." She put her purse strap over her shoulder and smiled in my direction. "Ready?"

"Iím ready. Be right back," I said to Mark, acknowledging the wink he gave me when Mary wasnít looking.

We made our way out of the crowd to a quiet spot near the front door.

"Iím not really good at this," I said, unable to make eye contact with her, my stomach doing somersaults. "I was just wondering if you would like to get together sometime, maybe go out for a drink or a movie?"

She smiled an embarrassed smile. "Well, I donít date much . . ."

"Yeah, it was a bad idea . . ."

"But Iíd like that," she added quickly.

"Really?"

I was trying hard not to act surprised as she reached into her purse and scrawled her number on a piece of paper. "Call me. I should be honest with you though, David, Iím not looking for a romantic relationship. Just somebody to go out and have fun with; no strings, no complications."

She watched me warily, as if waiting for an answer.

"Me either," I smiled. "Why donít we start with lunch?"

"Lunch sounds great. Next week?"

"Next week it is. Iíll call you."

I felt a wave of excitement wash over me. I actually had a date, and with a real looker as well! The Ďno sexí thing that Mark had described was actually a bit of a relief, as it had been longer than I cared to admit since Iíd been intimate with a woman. I was pretty sure I remembered how all the parts worked, but wasnít in any hurry to be put to the test. I turned with a bounce in my step and started back towards the party, nearly bumping into Markís wife Susan as she scrambled out of their home office with one of those leather timekeeping journals in her hand.

"David!"

"Susan!" I spouted, mocking her urgency.

"Stop it. Whereís Mary?"

"She just left, why?"

"Damn, she forgot this. I was asking her to get some information for me about a client earlier and she ended up leaving this on my desk. Sheís going to need it."

"So give it to her on Monday," I said.

"I canít, Iím flying out on Sunday."

"Well, Iím going to have lunch with her next week, I can bring it to her."

"When?"

"Haven't decided. I'm thinking later in the week."

"No, it canít wait that long, do you think sheís driven away yet?"

"Probably." I thought for a second. "Where does she live?"

"Near the metro, I think, why?"

"Is her address in there?"

She unzipped the leather binder and looked inside. "Yeah, right here."

I glanced at the address and recognized the street name. "Iím out and about tomorrow, give it to me and Iíll drop it off at her house."

"Are you sure you donít mind?"

"Don't mind a bit."

"Thanks David, youíre a real sweetie."

"You're more than welcome, Susan," I said with a smile.

In truth, I was happy for the opportunity to see Mary again and it would give me an opportunity to secure our lunch date. Yep, Markís party idea was a good idea after all.

 

~~:~~:~~

 

It was just after noon when I made the turn down Maryís block the following day. I cruised down the well-manicured streets of her suburban neighbourhood until I found her house. It was a quaint home, but looked nice from the outside. A green compact car parked out in front told me she was probably home. Suddenly it dawned on me that showing up at her house unannounced might be a little forward, no matter how gentlemanly my intentions. Ah, what the hell I thought, Iíd come this far. I parked my car on the opposite side of the street and made my way up to the front door. I had just extended my hand to ring the doorbell when I heard Maryís voice coming from inside the house.

"Hmmm . . . harder," I heard her moan.

Puzzled, I took two steps backwards towards the window that faced the street and listened closer.

A maleís deep voice surfaced. "Just tell me what you want, baby."

"Yeah -- like that," Mary moaned again. "Just -- oh God, like that," she gasped.

Her words were clearly audible, even over the rapid pounding of what I assumed to be the headboard banging the wall. "Feels good . . . oh God . . . fuck me, Shawn . . . all the way . . . fuck me all the way," she whimpered.

I shut my eyes tight as a hole the size of the Lincoln tunnel formed in my stomach. So much for Markís assumption that sheíd sworn off sex. I stood motionless, trying to decide what to do next. My first inclination was to get back into my car, return the notebook to Susan without an explanation, and forget I had ever met Mary. But that would only lead to a bunch of questions I really didnít want to answer.

The moaning seemed to get louder, reaching a point where I was surprised the neighbours across the street didnít hear. "Go deep -- oh Goddd, yes!" she gasped. The springs to the mattress sounded like they might give way to the pressure any second.

"You like that, donít you?" I heard the maleís deep grunting. "You like it hard, donít you? You feel so tight baby, so good. I could fuck you all day long."

As ridiculous as it was, I was starting to get angry. I had known this woman less than twenty-four hours, had never been on a date with her, and somehow I felt like she was cheating on me. Why, if she were involved with somebody else, would she accept a date with me? Better to know now, I thought out loud, and started walking towards my car. As I made my way down the walk, a red Honda Accord pulled into the driveway with none other than Mary in the driverís seat. She got out and looked at me, a cautious expression on her face. "David from last night, right?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," I replied, doing my best to regroup. If she was driving the car, who was inside the house screaming like a banshee?

"Is that mine?" she added, motioning to the notebook in my hand.

I noticed that the sounds of lust coming from inside the front bedroom had disappeared. I glanced in the direction of the window just in time to see the curtains part and close quickly.

"Uh, yeah, you left this at Susanís last night. I told her I was going to be out and about today and thought Iíd drop it off -- I realize now I should have called first."

"You brought that all the way over here to me?" she asked with a grin. I nodded and handed her the journal. "Thatís so sweet. Are you okay, you look like youíve just seen a ghost?"

"Yeah, Iím fine," I said.

"You want to come in, have something to drink?"

I glanced at the house, then to her. It was obvious Mary's roommate didnít expect her to be arriving home so soon. "No thanks, I need to get moving."

"Nonsense, you came all the way over to bring this to me. The least I can do is offer you a soft drink or something."

She started towards the door before I had a chance to respond. I followed, but made sure to stay more than a few paces behind. My heart raced as she put the key in the lock and entered. No sounds, no urgent apologies. I took a few more steps in behind her -- still nothing. She sat her things down on a couch in the living room and proceeded through to the kitchen. I could hear her talking to somebody, but couldnít see to whom. The tone of her conversation was casual enough that I thought it safe to follow. Then it all made sense.

"David, this is my daughter Skylar," Mary said as I appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Skylar, this is David, a friend I met at the wine tasting party last night."

"Pleased to meet you Skylar," I said, trying to suppress the grin I felt crawling all over my face.

"Hi," she replied in a disinterested voice.

I figured Skylar was about eighteen or nineteen and a near spitting image of Mary. She had long curly brunette hair and her Motherís best features, including high cheekbones and full, almost pouty lips. Her pretty face was accented by a beauty mark similar to the one Cindy Crawford has, only Skylarís was closer to her jaw line. She had on what looked like a pink crocheted sweater vest that dipped low in into a ĎVí, with no shirt underneath, and something that looked like a school ring suspended on a chain around her neck.

I glanced at the older looking guy sitting with her, estimating his age at around twenty-five. They had a series of textbooks spread across the table providing a very effective illusion that they had been studying -- something I knew wasnít the case.

"Oh, Iím sorry," Mary said. "So rude of me. David, this is Shawn, Skylarís math tutor."

"Itís a pleasure," I said, reaching across to shake his hand.

"How ya doing?" he grunted in the same deep voice I'd heard pouring from the bedroom window.

"Youíre home early," Skylar said to Mary. "I thought you were going to be at the office all day?"

I bet you did, I thought to myself.

"Oh, I decided to make it an early one," Mary said. "Thought you and I could maybe catch a movie. What do you say?"

"Uh, sure, after Iím finished studying. Skylar stood up from the chair and made her way to the pantry. "You want something to drink Shawn?"

As she stood up I realized her motherís face wasnít all that she had inherited. The top she had on stretched only half way down an incredibly sexy bare mid section, complete with a pierced belly button. Like Mom, her breasts were full, proud, and seemed to be pushing the limits of the skimpy vest that held them captive. Her tight round behind was accented perfectly by a pair of cuffed denim shorts that wrapped snugly around two equally taunt brown thighs. Granted, her good looks would have turned my head any day, but having just heard her moaning in the throes of passion made her a walking testament to lust. I glanced at Shawn with envious contempt, realizing that only minutes before I showed up, Skylarís gorgeous thighs were likely wrapped around his back.

"David, what would you like to drink?" Mary asked, snapping me out of my lecherous daydream.

"Uh, Coke is fine."

"Skylar, get David a Coke, will you?"

"You want a lot or a little ice?" Skylar asked, seemingly irritated.

She was staring at me with the most incredible set of deep brown eyes, waiting for an answer, her bare stomach clearly visible above the snap of her denim shorts.

"Uh, Iím sorry, what?" I stammered.

"ICE," she said in a strained tone. "Do you want a lot or a little ICE?"

"A little is fine," I replied.

What she had in looks seemed to be lost in personality, but then again we had just interrupted her and Mr. Math Tutor as they were humping one anotherís brains out. Couldnít say I blamed her for being annoyed. She handed me the Coke and I stole one last glance at her tight little ass as she returned to her seat at the table.

"C'mon, letís go into the living room," Mary said.

As I followed, I noticed she was also wearing shorts, something I had missed during the confusion in the front yard. As I watched her curvaceous bottom sashaying back and forth, it dawned on me that she looked way too young to have an eighteen-year-old daughter. She pulled open the first layer of curtains to allow some light to fill the room before patting the cushion in a signal I should join her.

We talked for about a half-hour covering nothing really important. She discussed her job and the long hours she worked; I talked about the promotion I was up for. Turns out she played tennis although, based on her work schedule, not very often. I told her I watched it on TV, but it wasnít really my racket. She was polite enough to laugh, even though we both knew that was one of the worst puns ever.

Several times during the conversation Skylar paraded through the room, usually to fetch a book or something . While I'm not sure why, I felt my eyes drawn to her, especially when she stopped to talk to Mary. Being thirty-something, Iím no stranger to attractive women and Iím not easily overwhelmed with physical beauty, but there was something about this girl that seemed almost magnetic. It most likely had something to do with the fact that I'd just heard her having animal-like sex less than an hour before.

"So when would you like to do lunch next week?" I asked Mary, figuring it was time to get moving.

"Well, let me see," she smiled, unzipping the calendar I had just delivered. "Wednesday works for me, how 'bout you?"

"That should be good. Can I call you if it doesnít work out?"

"Sure, thatís fine -- hey, what are you doing tonight?" she asked. "How bout some dinner and dancing?"

"I thought we were going to a movie!" Skylar yelled from the kitchen, so loud it made Mary flinch.

"We are Skylar, but thatís this afternoon! Iím talking about tonight!" Mary glanced at me apologetically. "Iím sorry."

"Thatís okay. Well listen, Iím not much of a dancer, but dinner sounds good."

"No dancing?" she said in a disappointed voice. "I really love to dance."

"Itís just Iíve got these two left feet -- but Iíve got eating down pat. Almost all the food makes it to my mouth on the very first try."

She laughed. "So pick me up at seven oíclock?"

"Seven it will be."

I excused myself and poked my head into the kitchen before leaving, bidding my farewells to Shawn and Skylar. Shawn smiled and shook my hand a second time; Skylar grunted a good-bye without looking up from her textbook. Oh well, canít win 'em all, I thought to myself.

 

~~:~~:~~

 

I arrived exactly five minutes before seven for our dinner date. I didnít want to appear over-eager, but definitely attentive. Mary showed up at the door in yet another casual dress. This one was made out of a bright, pink and white flowered print that dropped to a point just above her knees. Thin spaghetti straps were draped over each shoulder and the front was lined with buttons. She had been nice enough to leave the top two unfastened, providing a remarkably sexy view of her cleavage. Skylar appeared, outfitted in the same sexy sweater vest / denim shorts combo as before. I wondered if Mr. Math Tutor had an appointment to finish what he started earlier.

"We shouldnít be late and Iíve got my cell phone if you need us," Mary said to Skylar.

Skylar glared at me, seeming to ignore Maryís last words. I glared back like Ďwhat did I do?í but said nothing.

"Skylar?!" Mary said in an irritated voice. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes Mother, I heard you."

"Then answer me."

"Be safe," Skylar said. "I love you Mom," her last words before delivering a gentle kiss to Maryís cheek and disappearing into her bedroom. Somehow she forgot to say goodbye to me.

~~:~~:~~

Dinner was excellent and we both were stuffed by the time the dessert menu arrived. We discussed everything from our childhood, to our political affiliations, to our favorite movies. She even shared some very personal details, including how she got pregnant when she was sixteen and married shortly after that. The marriage lasted longer than one might expect, but came to a bitter end when she found out her husband was cheating. She had made an attempt to salvage the relationship, but he couldnít let go of his outside interests.

It was in those final years of her marriage that she decided to continue her education, returning first to get a high school diploma, then onward to law school. With the demands of raising Skylar, law school proved to be too much, so she settled on a job as a paralegal. She admitted regretting that decision more than once, as the hours seemed just as long, yet the pay didn't compare.

As comfortable as we were around one another, I also realized that we were in many ways opposites; that was disappointing for sure. The wine tasting club where we met was a perfect example. I never would have considered joining such a function, whereas Mary talked at length about her love of trying different wines, understanding their history, and how they were made. I agreed that I enjoyed an occasional glass, but that was as far as it went.

Even with our different interests, we still shared more than a few laughs and it was quite refreshing to be in the company of such a beautiful woman. Even if this wasnít destined for romance, I felt the beginnings of a solid friendship.

The bottle of wine we drank had left me in a mellow mood, but Mary was jostling in her seat. I suggested we catch a movie. We were downtown within waking distance of several theatres where a number of new releases were playing. I was sure we could find something we both liked, even though my favorites were action / adventure and hers were sappy chick flicks. She seemed Ďokayí with the idea, but I could tell from the way she was moving to the music pouring out of the restaurant bar that she really didnít want to be sitting. I reluctantly agreed to the dancing idea, but suggested we go somewhere else, as the bar at the restaurant was virtually empty.

In addition to the theatres, there was a number of clubs in the downtown area. It was a cool evening and we walked for about fifteen minutes until we passed a place where we could hear the music blaring even when the front door was closed. We entered, ordered some more wine, and hadnít been in the booth for more than two minutes when some techno-pop tune came on and Mary was dragging me out. The floor was packed, with barely enough room to stand, much less dance.

As we moved about with the other couples, I closed my eyes and tried to Ďsenseí the music; it wasnít working. I felt like a fish flopping around on a pier in the noonday sun. Mary, on the other hand, moved with a grace that I could only envy, the music coursing through body as if some mystical serpent had possessed her.

I watched her seductive movements with fascination. Her eyes were closed and her long brown hair was swinging from side to side. She raised her arms over her head causing her dress to climb upwards, her bosom moving in harmony with the rotation of her womanly hips. ĎVirgin Maryí or not, I couldnít help but wonder what she must look like without that sundress. I wondered if the way she moved on the dance floor was any indication of how she moved in bed. Watching her; almost feeling her; the resemblance to Skylar flashed through my mind, along with the sounds of passion Iíd heard pouring from the bedroom window earlier in the day.

"FUCK me, Shawn . . ." I remembered hearing Skylar moan.

"You like it hard, donít you?" I could still hear him grunting in return, followed by Skylar's lustful pleas for him to 'go deeper'.

I could visualize all too clearly Skylar's nude form spread out on the bed, her long legs wrapped around Shawn's hips as her body writhed beneath him, his cock pumping in and out of her in thrust after thrust. I closed my eyes as I felt my heart begin to race. The memory of Skylar's sensual whimpering was so clear and vivid in my mind. That, combined with Mary's seductive dancing, was making my imagination run amok.

I was jerked from my daydream as the guy behind us bumped into me, sending me stumbling into Mary. I tried to improvise, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her close. Her eyes opened suddenly and a startled smile crossed her lips. She laced her fingers though my free hand and held it high, leading me though some type of dance step I had seen, but couldnít name.

The feel of her body against mine, her breasts pressing into my chest, threw my arousal into overdrive. Unfortunately, I had picked the wrong day to wear jockey shorts and my cock felt like it had been folded in two and stuffed in the bottom of my trousers for safe keeping. The more excited I got, the more painful it became. Mary seemed oblivious to my problem, laughing and staring into my eyes, shouting to me over the pounding bass pouring from the speakers.

"What?!í I screamed over the music.

She leaned closer, pressing her body into my growing hard-on. "I thought you couldnít dance," she giggled in my ear.

"I canít," I shouted back.

Without warning, the song came to a sudden halt. We separated and joined in with the couples around us in a round of applause. The next song started, with the deejay shifting from that techno-disco-crap to something slower, more along the lines of a mellow jazz number.

"Now I know you can slow dance," she smiled.

"Only if you let me stand on your shoes."

She took me by the hand and led me to an open area on the dance floor. Whether we were friends or not, hiding my excitement in a slow dancing situation was going to be tough. I started out with something like the box step, leaving a good twelve inches between us.

"Do you think the nuns are watching us?" she laughed.

"Excuse me?"

"Itís an old joke. When I was in secondary school the nuns would come around dance floor with a thick book and make sure it could slide between the boy and girl while they were slow dancing. They could fit a Websterís unabridged dictionary between us, David."

I laughed and moved a little closer. Mary rested her cheek against mine and, once again, I felt her body pressing into me. It wasnít seconds before my cock started trying to break free from the knot that had formed in the pit of my shorts. I shifted nervously, trying to hide my growing arousal.

"You know, David, itís not against the rules for friends to slow dance. Is this making you uncomfortable?"

I glanced at her, trying to decide how to answer. "Well, uncomfortable is a good word, but not what youíre thinking."

"What am I thinking?"

"Well, letís just say itís been a long time since Iíve been this close to an attractive woman. Iím trying to maintain my self-control -- but certain body parts arenít listening."

She smiled. "Well, weíre not a couple of kids, David. I understand male physiology enough to know that some reactions arenít always voluntary."

"Well, there's more to it than that."

"Oh yeah, what?" she asked warily, like I was delivering some line.

"How do I say this?"

"Just say it."

I took a deep breath. "I think the next time I involuntarily slow dance with an attractive woman, Iíll wear boxer shorts and not jockeys. You know, leave me a little more room to Ďmoveí with the moment."

She leaned back and glanced down at the folded wad protruding from my trousers and started laughing. "Oh, I get it! Not enough room at the inn?"

"Something like that," I laughed with her.

She smiled. "I think youíre just trying to impress me. How big a suite do you need to house that guest of ours?"

"Oh, well, the presidential suite of course." She laughed along with me. "In my dreams, actually. Itís just that what I do have is practically tied in knots right now."

She laughed harder, leaning her forehead into my shoulder. "Like a prisoner fighting to be freed, huh?" she giggled, looking up at me.

"Yes, just like that," I grinned. "Iím sorry, I really am doing my best here. The wine is making me silly."

"Well, youíre being a gentleman about it David, and that means a lot." She had a sincere sparkle in her eyes, along with an incredibly gorgeous, ear-to-ear grin.

I smiled back and pulled her a little closer until the wadded bulge in my pants brushed lightly against her dress. She responded with a gentle press against me that actually created a wince of pain.

"You sure youíre okay?" she asked, noticing my expression.

"Yeah, Iím fine. Kind of bittersweet, if you know what I mean."

"Well . . . itís okay if you . . . you know, want to adjust yourself."

"I think thatíd be a bit too obvious. I can last."

She pulled me closer until I could smell the fruitful fragrance of her perfume against my cheek. "You know . . . I could help you . . . if you wanted me to," she whispered in my ear, her words blending into that now familiar giggle.

I smiled against her cheek, not really sure what she meant. "I donít get it."

She leaned into me again, this time her voice low and serious. "Move us to the edge of the dance floor away from the tables and turn your back to the crowd so nobody can see my hand. You canít dance with that big frown on your face."

I looked at her hesitantly, not entirely sure Iíd heard her correctly.

"Do it . . ." she grinned slyly.

I obliged and manoeuvred us away from the crowd, leaning her into a gentle turn before raising her into a position where my back was to the closest couple. She pressed her cheek against mine and rubbed her hand gently back and forth against my lower back. Slowly it circled around my waist and across my belt buckle before starting a descent. My heart was pounding in my chest as I wondered if the couples around us knew what was happening. Maryís hand ran down to the wad in my trousers and she traced her fingers gently across the top. "My, you are stuffed in there," she sighed.

I twitched as she kneaded me with her fingertips, trying to break free my bound and aching hard-on.

"I canít get it," she moaned in my ear.

"Thatís okay," I grunted in return, even more in pain than before. "The song is almost over. Iíll go to the menís room when the music stops."

"You want to quit now?" she asked in a concerned voice.

"No, I'm okay."

She leaned closer. "Hold still . . . Iíve got one last idea."

I felt her fingers fumbling with the front of my trousers until she found my zipper.

"I canít believe Iím doing this," she giggled, dragging the metal tab all the way to the bottom.

I couldnít believe it either, but I wasnít about to argue. My heart raced as she wedged her fingers through the flaps of my fly. I took a deep breath and held it as her nails worked their way into waistband of my underwear. I could feel the back of her fingers grazing my pubic hair as she reached inside my trousers, forcing her hand inside and downward.

"You are stuffed way in there," she said, struggling to delve deeper.

My breathing got heavy and I felt my jaw trembling like I was naked in a snowstorm, the sensation of her fingernails scraping the inside of my thigh.

"There you are," she whispered, finally reaching my cock.

She manipulated back and forth, breaking it loose and sliding her palm around it. The moment I was free, I started to become fully erect. I expected her to let go, but she surprised me, gently wrestling it upward, providing me the room to grow that I so badly needed. Without even realizing, my mouth started gently scraping her cheek, my arousal getting stronger and harder in her hand.

We continued to dance in silence, her hand stuffed inside my trousers and wrapped tightly around my throbbing cock, occasionally massaging it back and forth like a blind person sensing the texture. She wasnít really jerking me off -- more like hugging me with her palm as her other arm remained draped over my shoulder.

"You can let go now, Iím better," I grunted in almost obligation.

At first she didnít say anything. "You want me to let go?" she eventually whispered in my ear.

"Uhm . . . if you want to," I moaned. I was so turned on I couldnít stand it and my hands took on a mind of their own, running down the back of her dress and on to her ass. My lips met with hers in a gentle kiss as she squeezed my cock tighter, moving into a gentle stroke that was making my knees weak.

"Does that feel good?" she whispered in between kisses.

I leaned my cheek against hers and nodded in silence. She started to stroke me faster.

"Youíre getting wet . . ." she giggled in my ear as her grip tightened around me. "I still canít believe Iím doing this," she added, speeding up the movement of her hand.

It had been so long since Iíd been with a woman, I wasnít sure if I could last. "Mary, I think you need to stop that . . . before . . . I lose . . . all self-control."

My legs were literally starting to quiver and my hands were squeezing into her back for some type of support. She grinned and worked her hand faster. "Wanna cum?" she whispered, staring into my eyes as her hand discretely pumped my raging hard-on.

"Yeah . . ." I moaned. I did want to cum, and badly, but also knew there was no way I could pull it off on the dance floor without making a huge mess on her sundress. "But not here," I whispered, using my hand to stop hers.

She smiled and even pouted a little as she slowly pulled her hand out of my pants before dragging the metal zipper upwards to its original closed position. Finished, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and we continued to dance. I dropped my own hands to her lower back and pulled her close until I could feel my granite like cock pressing into her through the thin material of her sundress. She let out a subtle moan in my ear and began to kiss me as I used my hands to gently move her hips from side to side, back and forth against my swollen member.

I was literally getting lost in the moment, unsure of how I got there, but not wanting it to end. Of course, it did, with the music drifting away, replaced by another up-beat-techno-tune. Mary moved away from me, grinned, and moved into the next song without missing a beat. I closed my eyes, and started my fish-flopping routine all over again.

 

~~:~~:~~

 

We ended up dancing about three more times. Maybe it was two; I couldnít be absolutely sure. One thing I do know is there werenít anymore slow dances and my pants remained zipped the entire time. It was almost as if we were both pretending that nothing had happened during that one number. While I might have been pretending, I was also wondering how the evening would end.

We made it to the car and I drove her home. She spent most of the drive with her seat tilted back and her eyes closed, occasionally mumbling something about drinking too much wine. I tried to comfort her with a stroke to her arm and even a gentle pat on the thigh, but she was unresponsive. I couldnít tell if she was really tired, or just trying to send me an unspoken signal that whatever started on the dance floor wasnít going to continue when we arrived home. I inched the car up to the curb and walked her to the porch.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," I said sincerely.

She smiled. "Me too. Maybe we can get together again?"

A reasonable question, I thought to myself, but not sure if she was just saying it to be polite. I struggled with whether I should try to kiss her. There was irony in that struggle. A few hours before her hands were stuffed inside my pants and now I was worried if kissing her goodnight might look too forward. Much like when I asked her out, I decided nothing ventured meant nothing gained, and leaned towards her. Her lips were soft; yet very still. By Ďstillí, I mean she wasnít returning my kiss. I opened my eyes and could see hers had never closed. She was just staring at me.

"Iím sorry," she said quickly, regrouping herself. "This isnít fair to you David, Iím sending you mixed signals."

"Okay . . ." I replied, pretending to understand.

"Can we sit for a minute?" she asked, motioning to a porch swing I hadnít noticed before. I followed her lead and took a seat as she turned to face me. "David, I want you to understand something. I had a great time tonight."

"So did I."

"Youíre a funny, intelligent, very nice man."

"But . . ." I said, leaning forward and forcing a smile.

"No buts really," she said. "Well, maybe just one. I didnít plan what happened on the dance floor earlier tonight."

"Neither did I, Mary," I said, wondering if I sounded defensive.

"I know you didnít, David, neither of us did. And while it was incredibly exciting, it isnít something I would normally do, you know?"

I nodded for her to continue.

"I mean, Iíve pretty much sworn off sex unless thereís romance involved. After all, they donít call me the ĎVirgin Maryí for nothing."

I must have had a surprised expression on my face.

"Yes, I know they call me that," she added, "and frankly I think thatís just fine. But tonight, the wine had gone to my head and that, combined with how much fun I was having and how comfortable I was feeling around you -- I just lost my wits for a minute. Am I making sense?"

"I think so. But about this romance part?"

"Well . . . I think if you were honest with me, you would agree with something Iím about to say."

"Iíll be honest with you," I replied.

"Well, as much fun as I had tonight . . . I didnít feel that romantic spark between us. Iím not sure why, but I didnít feel it."

I nodded like I agreed, but in reality, I didnít. I was falling for her and in a big way. Even though our interests werenít identical, she was everything I looked for in a woman. But I also knew if I confessed that fact, I likely wouldnít see her again. Better to just play dumb.

"I understand, and yes, I agree with you," I fibbed. "But I did have a great time tonight."

"So did I!" she added quickly. "And I definitely would like to see you again -- spend more time together. You know, like we talked about when you asked me out the first time . . . but as friends."

"That would be great -- but NO slow dancing," I said.

She laughed. "Okay, no slow dancing."

 

~~:~~:~~

 

I called her the following Monday to confirm our lunch date for Wednesday. She seemed somewhat surprised that I had actually made the effort. I think in the back of her mind she thought when she dropped the Ďletís just be friendsí speech on me that I would disappear for good. Iíll be the first to admit I was disappointed. Okay, really disappointed, especially after the Ďhelping handí she gave me on the dance floor, but I could also see how introducing casual sex into a platonic friendship would only complicate things.

Lunch the following week was nice. We chose an outdoor café near the building where I work downtown. We chatted about nothing at all without a hint of anything romantic. She mentioned that it was her turn to do the wine tasting thing in a couple of weeks and asked if I would be interested in helping out. I agreed to make an appearance if she would agree to a movie on the weekend. She seemed excited and so was I. All in all, things were working out nicely.

I showed up the following Saturday to pick her up. Skylar answered the door, greeting me with a typically chilly reception. I had decided to play things pretty low key with her and not try too hard to develop any kind of a rapport, figuring she would warm up to me eventually or maybe not at all. Either way, I wasnít losing any sleep over it.

As she opened the door I did notice that todayís outfit was as appealing as ever. It consisted of purple skin tight ski pants that seemed to be spray painted on her taunt athletic thighs, with a football jersey cut into a half shirt. As I followed behind her I was enjoying the view of her tight little backside when I looked up to see her watching me, watching her, in the mirror mounted on the living room wall.

"Want a picture of my ass to take home with you?" she asked in an annoyed voice, turning to face me, her hands on her hips.

Realizing I was busted, I found myself blushing to the point I thought my face might melt. "I -- uh -- is Mary almost ready?" I stuttered.

She glared at me for what seemed like minutes. "MOM! Your DATE is here!" she yelled out sarcastically.

Mary appeared out of her bedroom, still clipping on a loose earring. "Hi David, are you ready?"

"Never more ready," I sighed, just wanting to get out of that room before I embarrassed myself further. I was going to have to be more careful, that was all there was to it.

Skylar looked at her mother. "Can I talk to you for a second -- in the other room, I mean?"

Mary looked at her, then to me. "Uh, sure. David will you excuse us?"

"Certainly," I smiled, my heart sinking to my feet. What was she saying? I took two steps towards the hallway in hopes that I could hear their conversation without being too obvious.

"Look Skylar, I have a personal life too," I heard Mary whisper harshly. "You know that I've taken steps to spend less time at the office so I can spend more time with you, but I also need some male companionship in my life."

"Thatís not what Iím saying," Skylar sneered back. "I just have a bad feeling about him, Mom. I donít think heís really interested in you, except for maybe getting in your pants."

"Our relationship isnít like that, Skylar. David and I are just friends. I appreciate you worrying about me, but I can take care of myself."

"But, Mom--"

"Closed conversation, Skylar. Iím leaving or Iím going to miss my movie."

I took that cue and shuffled back to my original position, out of earshot.

"Iím sorry about that," Mary said as she returned to the room. "Are you ready to go?"

Skylar reappeared, leaning against the doorway with her arms folded across her ample chest and admittedly beautiful eyes jabbing at me like daggers. I felt like she was the Mother, Mary was the daughter, and I was the kid from the wrong side of the tracks. I threw her one last smile and made for a quick exit.

As we reached the car I could tell Mary was still preoccupied. "Everything okay?" I inquired innocently, really knowing the answer.

"Yeah, that girl -- teenagers can be so frustrating sometimes."

"I can imagine."

"She just had a really tough time with the divorce and doesnít like the idea of me dating -- but itís nothing personal against you, David."

"Yeah, I could sense that much and, no, I didnít take it personally."

We drove for a few minutes in silence. "So . . . shall we go slow dancing," I joked, trying to break the tension.

She looked at me and grinned. "Bad, thatís what you are -- bad."

 

~~:~~:~~

 

The following week was hectic. More than once I had reconsidered whether the promotion I was gunning for and the minor raise that would accompany it were worth the overtime involved. I glanced at the clock and thought how I might as well write off my lunch hour, even though I was dying to get out for some fresh air. I had just sat down to my desk, moving stacks of files to create a place for my coffee cup, when the intercom beeped.

"Yes Diane?" I said, hitting the talk button.

"David, I have a Mary on line one for you, do you want to take it?"

I smiled. "Yeah, put her through." I figured she was calling regarding the wine testing party I told her I would help out with. "Mary, this is a nice surprise," I said, picking up the receiver.

"Itís not Mary," the monotone female voice said on the other end of the phone.

Whoever it was sounded like Mary. "Okay, then who?"

"Itís Skylar."

"Skylar," I said in a surprised tone. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything is fine. Are you busy?"

"Uh, yeah, actually I am. I was just--"

"What are you doing for lunch today?"

"Lunch? Today? Uhm, I was going to skip it, why?"

"Well, I was going to be downtown. You work downtown donít you? I was hoping you would be free. Thereís something I wanted to discuss with you about my Mom."

"About Mary? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, sorta. So you can make it?"

I looked again at the clock, then at the stacks of files on my desk. "Sure, where did you want to meet?"

"You know where the bistro is, off of Jefferson Avenue?" she asked.

"The outdoor one?"

"Yeah, thatís the one, can you be there by 12:30?"

I glanced at the clock. "Yeah, Iíll be there."

I hung up the phone and spun my chair around to look out the window. I couldnít imagine what she wanted to talk to me about, but this did seem like an opportunity for us to get closer, maybe break down some of the barriers between us.

I arrived at the restaurant early and grabbed a table outside. It was a warmer than usual day for April and I was enjoying the sunshine when I spotted Skylar making her way in. To say she was dressed to kill would have been an understatement. She had on a one-piece navy blue dress that reached a point well above her knees, providing a very provocative view of her slender brown thighs. Her long curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her facial features were nicely accented by a pair of black designer sunglasses. She was carrying a small black purse that dangled from a long gold chain, swinging along with the movement of her hips as she walked.

"Well, this is a bit of a surprise," I said as she seated herself. "You look nice. Where are you headed after this that's got you so dressed up?"

"Nowhere special. I just like to look nice when I go out, thatís all."

"Well, you succeeded," I smiled sincerely. The ice queen didnít even glance up from her menu to thank me for the compliment.

We ordered. She had the chicken Caesar; I stuck with the broiled fish and a side salad. I noticed more than a head or two checking us out, which didnít surprise me. I imagine we looked like a bit of an odd couple. I wasnít old enough to be her Dad, but was clearly too old to be her boyfriend, at least by societyís standards.

"So whatís happening?" I asked.

"This is a nice place," she said, looking around the outdoor café area. "I donít think Iíve ever been here before."

"Yes, it is nice." I didnít want to be rude, but I also didnít have time for this lunch. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about Skylar?"

"Wow, youíre not much for small talk, are you, David?"

"Iím sorry, you just sounded urgent on the phone and, frankly, Iím kind of busy these days."

"Yes, I did sound urgent, didnít I?" A moment of silence hung in the air. "David, do you like my Mother?" she asked seriously.

I thought for a moment. "Yes, Skylar, I do like your mother. Weíre becoming close friends. Why?"

"How much do you like her?"

"As I said, weíre close friends. Why do you ask?"

"Have you fucked her yet?" she asked nonchalantly, taking a bite of a breadstick from the basket the waiter had just left.

I choked on the glass of lemon water I was drinking, taking a moment to catch my breath. "I beg your pardon?"

"Have you fucked her yet?" she repeated, as nonchalantly as the first time she had asked.

"Skylar, I really donít think thatís an appropriate question."

"You havenít fucked her yet, I can see it in your eyes. Do you think youíre going to fuck her?"

I didnít know where this conversation was going or why we were having it, but I was very uncomfortable with it all. "Look, I donít know what youíre getting at . . ."

"Iím trying to figure out what your motives are when it comes to my Mother. I donít mind telling you, Iím concerned about her getting hurt again and I can see that happening with you."

"Well, Iím certainly not out to cause your Mother any pain, Skylar."

"Men like you never are."

"Men like me?" I repeated sarcastically.

"Yeah -- friends one minute, lovers the next, followed by ancient history. Maybe if sheís lucky sheíll snap a photo of you while you two are out so that she can remember what you look like when youíre gone."

"Look, Skylar, your Mother and I have discussed your feelings over her dating. I understand your concerns."

"You donít understand anything about my concerns. You didnít have to listen to her crying herself to sleep every night when she found out my Dad was fucking his secretary on every business trip he took -- I did."

"Iím not your Dad, and believe it or not, every man out there isnít out for one and only one thing."

"So youíre telling me youíre different?" she said with a sarcastic twang in her voice. "That youíre not interested in sex -- that youíre only interested in her friendship?"

My mind raced back to the night on the dance floor and the moment that Maryís fingers pulled down my zipper before reaching her hand into my trousers to grab my cock. I snapped myself quickly back to the present. "Yes, Iím telling you Iím different."

She stared at me with a narrow glare. "David, do you think I donít notice how you look at me? I see the lust in your eyes every time I walk by. I saw you watching my ass like a dog in heat as I led you into the house the other day. Every time I turn around I see you staring at me -- mentally undressing me."

She wasn't far off, but I wasnít about to admit it. The waiter arrived with our lunch, saving me from having to respond to her last comment. My mind raced with jumbled thoughts of what I would say next. I grabbed the dressing and shook it over my salad. She sat motionless, waiting for an answer. I looked up at her. "I donít know where this is going Skylar, but I can tell you, youíre out of line."

"Look, Iíll get right to the point. I want you to stop seeing my Mother now, before it goes any further and she ends up getting hurt, either because you fuck her and leave or end up sleeping with somebody else because she wonít put out."

"I donít think who your Mother dates is any of your business," I said, stuffing my mouth with a fork full of lettuce.

"And I think it is my business, but Iím also not going to wait around for you to figure that out. Iíve got a deal for you, David."

I looked at her curiously, wiping my mouth with my napkin before returning it my lap. "A deal, Skylar?" I said sarcastically.

"Uh huh." She looked around and lowered her voice, leaning forward across the table towards me. "If you stop dating my Mother -- tell her something that will let her down easy, you know, like your job is requiring you to move . . . Iíll let you take me to bed."

I choked again, only this time on my salad. I grabbed the water and downed at least half the glass before the waiter appeared at the side of our table asking if I was okay. I waved him off in an unspoken signal that I would be fine.

"Excuse me?" I asked, catching my breath.

"You heard me. If you agree to stop seeing my Mother, Iíll go to bed with you. Iíll give you an experience youíll remember for the rest of your life."

I felt my heart starting to pound in my chest, my breathing becoming irregular. Suddenly the sounds of the diners nearby seemed to get louder; everything around me seemed to intensify. I looked back to Skylar who waited patiently for a response, a mischievous smile across her pouty lips.

"So, what do you say?" she added. "Iíll even suck your cock, but you canít cum in my mouth. I will jerk you off though and let you cum on me, if thatís what youíre into."

This was proving to be insane and in a hurry. Suddenly I wasnít hungry anymore. "Youíre a very disturbed young lady," I said, trying to get the waiterís attention for the check.

"Disturbed!" she started to shout. "Why? Because I donít wait around to be a victim like half the women I know? Because I know what men want and I make sure I get something in return -- something besides a cold shoulder and maybe a bouquet of flowers the next day! That makes me disturbed?!" The diners around us were starting to stare.

"Alright, take it easy," I said, trying to calm her down. "What about your boyfriend?" I asked, trying to bring some logic to the conversation.

"What boyfriend?" she asked puzzled. "I donít have a boyfriend."

"Whatís his name -- the math tutor guy? You should know I showed up at your house about five minutes before your mother that Saturday afternoon and could hear you two going at it all the way from the front lawn."

"Oh, Shawn -- heís not my boyfriend. Heís a grad student that helps out in my calculus class and doubles as my math tutor." She smiled. "Itís a coincidence that since we started my private tutoring my grades have just skyrocketed. Heís a sweet guy really -- when he corrects the math tests, he knows what I really meant to write down and changes it for me." She smiled that mischievous smile again. "Look David, he and I have a business arrangement, thatís all, much like the one Iím offering you now. I saw him looking at me much like I see you looking at me. You know . . . like he wanted me. I told him he could have me -- provided I got something in return. You want me too, David . . . donít you?"

As I watched her talk, her sensuous lips spelling out every erotic word, I found myself becoming aroused, no matter how much I fought it. "No, actually, Iím not interested, Skylar, but I will do you this favor. I wonít mention this conversation to your Mother. It will remain our secret."

"Oh, of course it will, David. Like sheís going to believe you anyway." The waiter showed up and left the check. She picked it up and looked at it, then slid the tray over towards me. "You get this, I need to go. Think about my offer David," she said as she stood up. She leaned down and kissed me on the cheek before discreetly running her tongue against my ear lobe. "Iíll be thinking about how good your cock is going to taste . . ."

She smiled, grabbed her purse, and made her way out of the restaurant. I sat, motionless, watching her tight little ass parade off into the distance. The waiter arrived at my table, taking more than a few seconds to enjoy Skylarís departure. "Damn . . ." I heard him mumble.

He glanced down at me with a curious expression, but didnít ask any questions.

"Iíll be right back with this," he said with an envious smile.

 

~~:~~:~~

 

Saturday rolled around before I knew it. I remember staring at the clock all day long, dreading the evening, knowing I would likely have to face off against Skylar. I showed up early to give Mary a hand with getting things ready. After all, thatís what friends were for -- right?

As I entered the house and hung up my coat I listened intently for any sound of Skylar, but heard nothing except Maryís voice talking to me from the kitchen as she prepared the snacks. I confess; I was relieved. The doorbell rang and Mary called out for me to answer it. It was the wine guy. Actually, it turned out the wine guyís real life name was Stanley, which didnít seem right. Anybody who made their living being a wine guy should be named Alfonso, or Demitrius, or some other romantic name; basically, anything but Stanley.

The other guests arrived within minutes. It turned out Maryís party would be more casual than Mark and Susan's. Translated, that meant enjoying the wines she had purchased without the spitting. I poured myself a large glass of something purple and was sipping it, nodding intently to Stanley as he rambled on about how and where the wine I was drinking was made.

"Stan, can you come here for a minute?" Mary called from the other end of the room. "We have a bet to settle here and we need your expertise." She was referring to some conversation she was having with a yuppie-looking couple I recognized from Markís party.

"Will you excuse me?" Stan said, motioning towards Mary. "Or will you join us?"

"No, Iím fine," I smiled, providing us both with an eloquent exit to our most-boring conversation. Truthfully, I wasnít nearly as interested in where the wine I was drinking was made, as much as where the bottle was so I could fill up my glass again. I found it in the kitchen near the others and emptied it before taking a long sip. It was very fruitful, I thought to myself. Sheez, what was happening to me? I was starting to sound like one of Ďthemí.

"Boo," came the soft whisper from behind me.

My heart began to beat like a drum roll in my chest the moment I realized who that voice belonged to. I turned slowly to find Skylar staring into my eyes, sipping a glass of her own.

"Oh, hi Skylar, I didnít see you there," I stuttered. "In fact, I didnít think you were home tonight."

"I was getting dressed. Do you like what Iím wearing?"

I looked up and down her slender frame as she spun around in a small circle. She was wearing a pair of form fitting black slacks with matching black heels. It all was topped off with a ruffled long sleeved blouse. A conservative look, yet snug enough to show off her ample figure.

"Why yes, you look very nice."

"Thank you," she smiled. "You look very handsome yourself."

There was something definitely wrong with this picture. She was never this pleasant with me. It was like I was talking to a different person. I lost my train of thought as I watched her lift her glass, wetting her lips with the wine and sliding her tongue back and forth to capture every last drop.

"She knows," Skylar said, staring at me.

My heart thumped and I felt myself getting flush. "Who knows -- knows what?" I stammered.

"My Mom . . . she knows."

I looked quickly in Maryís direction to see if she was watching Skylar and I talking. She was still heads down in conversation with the yuppie couple and Stanley the wine guy.

"Well, thereís not much to know, Skylar. I told you, as far as Iím concerned our lunch conversation never happened."

"Not *that*, silly, she knows I drink wine. You were staring at my wineglass as if Iím underage or something. She doesnít mind if I drink, as long as I donít overdo it."

"Oh, I see what you mean." I took another big gulp, draining the glass and refilling it with a different vintage, secretly wishing the bottle contained bourbon. "So, whatís new?" I asked, trying to keep the subject light.

"Well, letís see. Iím wearing some new panties," she grinned, taking another sip from her glass and leaning her head back to swallow. "Theyíre from Frederickís -- wanna see?" She paused for a moment and started to laugh. "Youíre turning red."

That was no surprise, as I was close to igniting with embarrassment. "Yeah, itís a little stuffy in here . . . I think Iím going to step outside and get some fresh air. If youíll excuse me, Skylar," and I turned to make a break for the back door.

"Iíll join you," she said before I had time to respond.

We made our way across the patio and on to the back lawn. It was a brisk evening, but not really cold. The skies were crystal clear, complete with a full round moon that lit up the area where we were standing.

"Hmmmm, itís a beautiful night, isnít it?" Skylar sighed, looking up to the stars.

"Yes, it is."

As she stared into the heavens I sipped my wine and glanced in her direction. My eyes traced her profile, her long curly hair pulled back into a ponytail and spilling down her shoulders as she stared upwards towards the heavens. I worked my way down to the curve of her breast that pushed the limits of the button down blouse she was wearing, her chest rising and falling with each breath. God, she was beautiful; there was no denying that.

"So how was the rest of your week?" she asked innocently, still looking from star to star.

"Busy as the first part of my week."

"Did you think about me at all, David?"

I swallowed hard. "Iím not sure I understand what you mean?"

She turned and stared at me. "About our business deal . . . did you think about my offer anymore?"

"Skylar, frankly, this is getting too weird, can we just drop that subject, please?"

"Okay, suit yourself, but you donít know what youíre missing."

That was easier than I thought it would be. "So, howís school?" I asked, looking to shift the conversation to totally neutral territory.

"David, will you kiss me?"

This time I started coughing as the wine seemed to change to putty half way down my throat. She placed her hand on my back. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I managed to grunt between hacks. "Just went down the wrong pipe, thatís all."

She gave me a moment to recover. "So, will you kiss me?"

Her words were thick and heavy as she spoke, her glistening eyes staring into mine. "No kisses tonight, Skylar," I managed to say. "Iím headed back in the house," and I started for the back door.

"If you donít kiss me, David, Iíll scream loud enough that my mother hears and when she gets out here Iíll say you tried to kiss me."

I stopped in my tracks and turned towards her. She was still staring up at the stars, but paused long enough to glance in my direction.

"You know Iíll do it, too," she added with a quiet certainty.

I made my way back to the lawn area. "You know, I liked it a lot better when you hated my guts."

"I never hated you, David."

"Well, you acted like you did. Why this sudden change in attitude?"

"Attitude?" she asked in a confused voice.

"Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?"

"Well, if weíre going to sleep together, I think we should be nice to one another, donít you?"

"First of all, weíre not going to sleep together, so if thatís the reason youíre flirting with me like this, then you can stop."

"Thatís part of it," she said, pausing to sip her wine. "The other is youíre so fun to tease. You get so flustered." She reached out and took my hand, guiding me out of view of the patio door. "Kiss me now, David. Over here, where nobody can see us."

I stood my ground, until she pulled harder on my arm, dragging me along with her. She gently eased the wineglass out of my hand and sat it on the ground next to hers. Moving her face within an inch of mine, she paused, her gaze washing over my features. "You know David, you really do have pretty eyes."

"Thank you," I gulped.

Without further warning, she wrapped her palm around the back of my neck and pulled me into her, pressing her mouth hard into mine. Surprisingly, she was an awkward kisser. There wasnít much sensuality; more a feeling of rushed passion. Not that I donít appreciate Ďanimal-likeí lust, but generally I prefer to work up to such moments. As far as I was concerned, that moment hadnít arrived between us. She sensed my awkwardness and pulled away, glaring into my eyes.

"Youíre not kissing me back, David," she said, seemingly annoyed.

"Well, youíre coming on a little strong."

"Iím what? Most of the men I know appreciate a forward woman."

"The forwardness isnít what Iím talking about, Skylar. Letís just say I prefer a little foreplay, a little more sensual form of kissing, thatís all."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Itís hard to describe."

"Then show me," she quipped, like she was calling my bluff. I paused. "Show me, David, or Iíll scream like I said I would."

I could see this wasnít going to get any better. Reluctantly I leaned forward, taking her cheek in my palm and grazing her lips with my own. I was moving much more slowly than she had; slow enough that I could actually feel her lips instead of Ďtoleratingí them. They were soft, very much in contrast to the harsh beard that covered my own face. She stood motionless as I kissed her.

I was out to prove a point and poured all the sensuality I could muster into that one kiss, sculpting my mouth across hers. Instinctively she followed, kissing me in return, the passion of the moment starting to simmer as we tasted and explored one anotherís lips. This went on for at least a minute before I pulled back in an attempt to slow down my own arousal.

"There," I said, a bit out of breath. "Do you see the difference?"

She was staring at me intently, her breathing clearly labored. "Wow, that was -- yes, I see the difference. Kiss me like that again, David."

I admit, I felt a wave of excitement hearing her words and seeing her response. I kissed her again, but this time with even more passion. She leaned into me until I could feel the peak of her breasts pressing into my shirt. Her one hand was resting against my chest; the fingers of her other gently caressing my cheek as her mouth moved further into mine.

I took her slender waist in my hands, feeling the texture of her skin through the thin material of her blouse. I couldnít believe I was allowing this to happen, but I really didnít have a choice; or at least I didnít want to think I did. If I didnít go along with it, I knew she would start screaming and that would translate into a scene worse than death.

She was the first to bring her tongue into play and I confess I was ready. I met her, lavishing in the slick feeling of her hot mouth interlaced with my own, tasting the sweetness of the wine remnants on her breath. My cock stormed upwards in my trousers, with plenty of room to move now that I had switched to boxers. I tightened my grip around her waist, pulling her heavy breasts harder against my chest. Our kissing became more ferocious until she began to moan as my stiff cock pressed into her slacks.

"Hmmmmm, David, this is making me so hot," she whispered, rubbing her hips back and forth against my raging erection.

Now at a point where inhibitions or hesitance were things I could only remember, I moved my mouth to her neckline and began to grab into her soft flesh with my lips. Her fragrance was washing over my senses and I was losing more and more control. Her one hand remained against my cheek, now guiding my mouth down her neckline, while the other traced downward and across the pronounced ridge in my pants. She expertly used her fingers to trace the outline of my cock, working her way up to tickle the sensitive head before squeezing her palm around me, causing me to moan uncontrollably against her neck.

I moved my hand up and across her blouse until I found her breast. As I measured over every inch with my palm, tracing over her now-protruding nipple, I became lost in the moment. She pulled away from our kissing, taking my cheeks in her hands and staring directly into my eyes.

"David?"

"What?" I replied, painfully turned on and almost fighting for air.

"Do you want me to suck your cock? I mean, I will, if you want me to. Iíll pull your pants down, hold it up so I can run my tongue from bottom to top, then Iíll take it all in my mouth. Would you like that, David?"

I literally shivered at her descriptions, a flashing glimpse through my mind of how it would feel to have those sensuous lips wrapped tightly around my now aching member, the breeze passing over my naked body. I nodded a few short nods of agreement and started to unbutton my pants.

"Then start to think about what youíre going to tell my Mother," she grinned and stepped around me, picking up her glass and starting back towards the house.

I turned and watched her walk away. As she reached the patio, she disappeared from my view and I heard the sound of the sliding glass door open and close as she returned to the party. Closing my eyes, I listened to the sound of the breeze passing through the trees. I even reached down and gave my throbbing dick a hard squeeze with my own hand. I was so aroused it almost hurt, and yet, I knew the whole situation was so wrong. As I thought about everything that had happened this week, I started to realize how insane the whole scene was getting; too insane for my tastes, that much I was sure of.

If Skylar wanted me to stop seeing Mary, then thatís exactly what I would do. If I didnít, I knew one of two things would happen; Iíd be committed to a mental institution, or I'd be sleeping with an eighteen-year-old nymphet; maybe both.

 

~~:~~:~~

 

I made my way back to the party and to the few remaining couples who had congregated in the living room. It seemed that Mary had never noticed me leave. She was too busy gabbing away to some jock-looking-attorney type who was too damn handsome for his own good. I was a bit surprised at the pang of jealousy that shot through my stomach when I spotted the two of them getting so chummy. What a night, I thought to myself. The one woman I am interested in wants us to be casual buddies and the nymphet daughter wants to make out with me in the backyard. Whatís wrong with this picture?

I rinsed out my glass and went for a refill as I thought about my options for exiting stage left. Leave and disappear, never to call again? Nah, that wasnít my style. Make up a huge story about how my job is causing me to relocate; hence the reason I wouldnít be calling. Nope -- too complicated, not to mention embarrassing when she talks it over with Susan and figures out what I liar I really am. I decided to just let the friendship fizzle. Iíd likely call again, she might call me, but sooner or later both of us would get busy and not follow up and it would all be over. Skylar would get just what she wanted and I would get back to my lifestyle as a modern day monk.

No sooner had I made my decision, that Mary noticed my presence. She excused herself from her conversation with Prince Charming and made her way over to me.

"Hey, where you been?" she asked me.

"Oh, I just stepped outside for a minute." Even I could hear the annoyed sound in my voice, the jealousy bleeding through. I knew I had no right, but emotions like jealousy seldom stood the test of logic.

"You okay?" she asked in a concerned voice. She stared into my eyes for a moment, then glanced down at my full glass. "I think you've tipped the bottle a few too many times tonight, David," she grinned.

It wasnít until she said something that I realized she was right. I was getting downright hammered and hadnít even realized it. The intent to speak, to reply to her comment was there, but the words werenít coming out of my mouth. I shrugged my shoulders in agreement and walked to the sink, dumping out the wine I had just poured.

"So, youíre having fun, I hope?" she asked, following me.

"Yeah, itís been fun, I like this format better."

"You mean where you can drink and not spit?" she grinned.

I nodded and leaned up against the counter for support as she began to move around me, rinsing some wineglasses in the sink.

"Mom, I think Iím going to bed now, Iím not feeling good."

I turned to see Skylar standing in the doorway that led from the kitchen down the hallway. The slacks she had on from before had been exchanged with a pair of moderately loose fitting pajama shorts. A matching flannel pajama half-top had replaced the ruffled blouse, exposing her bare midriff. It was obvious she didnít have a bra on from the fleshy silhouette of her full breasts and large round nipples standing at attention. Sexy was an understatement.

"Oh baby, whatís wrong?" Mary said, drying her hands on a towel and moving towards Skylar. She stared across her daughterís features, brushing her hair from her face, probably a lot like she did when she was just a child.

"Just a tummy ache, thatís all," Skylar said. "Iíll be fine tomorrow, I just need some sleep. Goodnight David."

"Night Skylar, feel better."

Mary returned to where I was standing and took a leaning position against the counter next to me.

"So, where were we?" she asked, crossing her arms and mimicking my posture.

"I forget. Besides, your date is probably waiting for you," I said sarcastically.

"My date?" she asked in a confused voice. "Something is up with you, David, now, what is it?"

Normally I would have stayed quiet, but something in the wine was screaming for me to say what I was feeling. I wanted to know right then what she saw in this other guy that she didnít see in me.

"Well, for starters--"

At that point Prince Charming himself appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Mary, I need to run, thanks for everything," he said in a deeper-than-thou voice.

"Oh, but itís still early," she replied, leaving me where I was standing. I noticed every detail of how she caressed his arm as they talked. "Well, thanks for coming," she said.

My blood started to boil as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him.

Stanley appeared in the doorway. "I think the rest of the couples are leaving also, Mary."

"Oh, okay, Iíll walk them out. David, will you join us?" she asked.

"No, I think Iíll just straighten up around here," I replied, still fuming.

She stared at me in a moment of silence. "All right Mister -- but when I get back, you and I are talking about whatís bugging you."

I watched as the three of them exited into the living room, followed by the sound of the front door opening and closing as the remaining guests left for the evening. I stood there, practically crying in my now empty wineglass. Much like that first day on the porch when I thought Mary was having sex, I again felt like I'd been wronged; in some way dumped. Okay, so the guy she was flirting with did look like he could fill his spare time modelling for Gentleman's Quarterly -- big fucking deal. It's not like I'm the elephant man, plus I've got a sense of humor and I'm crazy about her. The more I talked to myself about it, the worse I felt. I just wanted the whole situation to be over and to move on with my life.

"Psssst," I heard from the hall. "Are they gone?" Skylar whispered, peeking around the doorway.

"Yeah, theyíre gone," I said.

She smiled a seductive smile and curled her index finger in a signal for me to come to her.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice ripe with frustration.

"Come here!" she whispered louder.

Reluctantly I followed her into the dimly lit hallway. She wrapped her arms around me and guided me towards the wall, staring into my eyes. "Iím not wearing a bra, could you tell?"

"Oh for Peteís sake Skylar," I said, peeling her arms off my neck and returning them to her sides. "Look, you win -- as soon as your mom gets back in the house Iím telling her itís over, then Iím fading out of this picture once and for all."

She stared in my eyes, almost with a surprised expression on her face. "You canít do that," she said.

"What do you mean I canít do that? Thatís what youíve been asking for all along."

"I know . . . but, well . . . it was just getting fun."

"Yeah, well the funís over with."

"David," she said in a serious voice. "I donít want you to leave."

"Yeah, well we donít always get what we want, do we?" That was a more telling comment than I cared to admit. I wondered if Mary was making out with Prince Charming out in the front yard. It wouldnít have surprised me in the least.

"Kiss me David," Skylar said, moving into me again.

I let her lips brush across my mouth. A rush of thoughts flashed through my mind; a rush that included something along the lines of Ďtwo can play at this game.í If Maryís not interested and Skylar is, then maybe I should just take what I can get. Letís face it, Skylar was no second string; she was just too young. But then again I was contemplating a roll in the hay here, not a long-term commitment.

Just as I started to give in to the temptation, accepting her kiss, I heard the screen door open. Skylar heard it too. She glanced down the hallway, then back in my eyes. "Youíre leaving soon, right?"

I looked at my watch. The clock said it was time for me to go, but the semi-drunken haze I was staring through made me think twice. "Sometime soon, yeah."

"Come to my bedroom window and tap on it three times," she said, staring into my eyes.

We both heard the front door open. "Donít think so, Skylar," I whispered, "I think Iím headed straight home."

"David, please--" She reached up and kissed me on the lips one last time before disappearing down the hall, silently shutting her bedroom door behind her.

I returned to the kitchen, just in time to see Mary reappear. She prodded me to talk about what was bothering me, but I refused, writing it all off to how much I had to drink. I started to leave, reached into my pocket for my keys, and dropped them on the floor. She quickly picked them up and held them behind her back, making clear I wouldnít be driving home anytime soon, at least until I sobered up. I smiled a sinister grin and pointed out she didnít have a guestroom. She pointed out equally fast how the sofa unfolded into a bed.

I took off my shoes and crawled on top, clothes and all. As I lay there, negotiating the bed spins, I listened to the sounds of Maryís bedroom door closing. I imagined her ending her evening, doing the things women do at night. I imagined what she might wear to bed, most likely something sexy, something red to go with her striking brown eyes, something with lots of lace. I was sure she looked ravishing in it, whatever it was.

I was torn. I really did want to tell her everything I was thinking, tell her all that I was feeling; tell her how much I was attracted to her. I really did want to confess how jealous I felt when I came back inside the house and found her flirting with that guy. I really did want to convince her that there was truth in the saying that Ďopposites attractí. I wanted all those things. The worst part was I didnít have a good reason for keeping it to myself, outside of the fact that thereís nothing worse than a one-sided attraction.

I closed my eyes and decided to sleep the whole thing off. Iíd get enough rest to sober up and Iíd leave as quietly as I came, putting this night, this friendship, and everything about it behind me. The spinning sensation of the mattress was just starting to slow when I heard the unmistakable sound of Skylarís bedroom door opening. I had almost forgotten about our last conversation and her request for me to come to her window. My heart raced as I turned my head to the side. It was just light enough to see the outline of her form through the darkness.

"David?" she whispered from across the room.

Quickly I faced the ceiling and closed my eyes, faking that I had fallen asleep. Her faint footsteps grew louder against the carpet as she approached, followed by the sensation of the mattress sinking as she climbed on top.

"Wake up sleepy head," I heard her whisper, followed by a gentle rocking of my body.

I opened my eyes to see her staring down at me. She was next to me on the bed, her legs folded underneath her. Her half-pajama top was pulled up, her pierced bellybutton twinkling in the dim light of the living room.

"Skylar?" I said, rubbing my eyes and pretending I hadnít heard her approach.

She smiled down at me. "Decided to stay the night, huh?"

"Yeah, your mother decided that I drank too much to drive and has my car keys."

"Oh . . . I see," she grinned, gently stroking my shirt with her palm.

"Shouldnít you be in bed?" I asked.

"Shouldnít you be there with me?" she replied with a smile.

I inched myself up on to the back of the sofa. "You know, I just donít get this. One minute you want me to leave, the next youíre trying to talk me into climbing into bed with you. What gives?"

"Oh, I donít want to talk about that now, David."

"Well, maybe I do. Youíre like the queen of mixed signals. Just when youíre going to get me out of your life, you change the rules."

"I said I donít want to go into it. Wouldnít you rather kiss me than sit here and talk?"

I stared at her in silence until she smiled, forcing me to smile in return. "I donít know what I want," I said, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.

That was about as true a statement as I could make. I didnít know if I wanted to tell Mary what I was feeling; if I wanted to take Skylar up on her offers; or if I wanted to curl up in the fetal position and hopefully wake up to find this whole dating game had been a bad dream.

"David?"

"What?" I said, opening my eyes and looking at her.

"You want to know a secret?"

"Sure, tell me a secret Skylar."

"Youíre the best kisser Iíve ever known."

I felt myself blushing. "Gee, thanks," I said, trying not to take the situation too seriously.

"Will you kiss me again like you did earlier?"

"Maybe someday."

"No, I mean now -- right here."

"I donít think so, Skylar. Right here in the living room is even more dangerous than in the backyard. Your mom could get up and catch us, then it would be curtains for both of us."

"No, sheís a really sound sleeper. Once she goes to bed that's it -- especially when sheís been drinking wine. Please, David -- just once."

I stared at her. Looking at her in the dim light, I noticed again how much she looked like Mary. I confess the thought of kissing her again was appealing. Still, while it didn't feel right, what was so wrong about it? I wasnít involved with Mary, she clearly wasnít interested in me, and after tonight I was going to fade out of this picture. Why not indulge in the moment?

Skylar didnít wait for me to respond and leaned towards me. I watched in silence as her lips got closer to mine. We began with a single, gentle kiss, followed by another, then another, and yet another after that. She tasted exquisite. With each passing moment our kissing became more passionate. She began to squeeze into my chest with her fingernails, then floated her hand across my ribs.

As she straddled herself over my hips, her breasts pushing into my chest, I broke from our kissing in an attempt to slow things down. She seemed ready, sliding her lips down my neck as I turned my face to the side, her hair falling into my mouth as I desperately whispered in her ear. "Skylar, this is moving too fast. A kiss is one thing, but this -- itís moving too fast . . ."

"Letís go in my room," she mumbled before resuming our passionate kissing.

I felt her thighs squeezing around my hips as she started to guide her body up and down my stiffness. I wrapped my hands around her ass, pulling her tight against my hard-on, sliding it up and down her flannel pajama bottoms. I leaned my head back as she returned her lips to my neck, her kisses washing into a subtle moan.

"Iím getting so hot, David," she breathed in hoarse whispers, grinding her pussy against me in succulent friction.

She sat upright, pulling her hair out of her face and staring down at me. She smiled the most delicious smile and started to unbutton her pajama top, one button at a time. I took her hands in mine and forced her to pause.

"Skylar . . . we canít do this. Iím dating your mother and being with you -- itís just not right."

"David," she said, not taking her hands off her buttons. "Youíve said yourself that your relationship with my mother isn't like that -- not romantic. Are you changing your story now?"

"No, of course not, but--"

"But what?" she interrupted, guiding my hands back to her hips before lightly pressing her index finger to my lips in a signal that I was talking too much. My eyes closed for a moment as I tasted her skin. "Youíre not cheating, David," she whispered. "Unless youíre sleeping with her, youíre not cheating if you sleep with me."

I admit, at that particular moment, I really wanted to find logic in her reasoning. I watched as she returned her fingers to the buttons of the pajama top. She looked down, working loose the last one, then stared back at me, gently pulling the lapels of the half-top open and to the sides. Her breasts looked spectacular in the dim light of the living room. They were full and sensuous with large round nipples that stood at absolute attention. She stared down at me, scraping her tongue between her lips, as she scooped up my palms and placed them over her exposed chest.

Gently I squeezed, delighting in the sensation of the flesh rolling between my fingers. She shuddered as I gently pulled and teased at her thick nipples. Her head fell back, her hands over my own; her chest rising and falling as our arousal grew.

"My breasts are so sensitive -- they always have been," she said with an aroused giggle. "David, will you kiss them? Kiss them the way you kissed my mouth . . ."

I smiled and she scrunched her way up my hips, leaning forward with one hand to support her weight against the sofa cushion as the other guided the erect nipple towards my lips. I met her half way, using my tongue to work a wide arc around the circular areola, slowly and sensuously wrapping my mouth around the swollen tip. She tasted exquisite.

"The other one," she panted, switching the arm supporting her weight and guiding her other breast towards my face.

At this point I was all but consuming her. Iíd moved my hands up to hold her breasts together, my mouth moving in a passionate frenzy, working from left to right, then back again. I used my teeth to gently pull against the protruding flesh of each mound, then bathed my mouth over the reddened area, leaving it wet and glistening in the dim light of the living room.

"Oh God, David," she moaned, reinforcing how much she was enjoying my almost savage attack.

She sat up on me with a ravenous look in her eyes, forcefully working the pajama half-shirt off her shoulders and tossing it to the side before draping her topless body across me as our passionate kissing resumed.

"I want to fuck you so bad right, now," she groaned, her mouth hot and ferocious against my own. By this time I had lost all inhibition. My hands moved to her hips, guiding her against me in simulated intercourse. She sat up and started to move off me. "Let me take off my bottoms," she whispered.

"This is too risky, Skylar," I muttered in jagged breaths. "We canít do it here. Itís not that I donít want to . . ."

For once it seemed my words registered. She looked back towards her Motherís bedroom, then down to me. She reached over and put back on her pajama top, fastening a few of the buttons to keep it closed.

"Come to my room," she whispered, looking down at me, her hand stroking my stiff cock. "We can lock the door and sheíll never hear us." Her squeezes to my dick were getting tighter and longer, running the length from top to bottom.

"I donít -- know -- Oh God Skylar," I moaned, arching my hips off the bed and against her hand.

She smiled and squeezed harder, reaching forward with her free hand to unfasten my pants at the same time she was stroking me with the other. "Youíre getting really hard," she moaned, unfastening the button and dragging down the zipper.

"Sheís going to get up," I stuttered. "Sheís going to find us . . ."

"Pull your pants down for just a minute," she whispered, ignoring my concerns.

I suppose I should have made her ask twice. That would have at least made it seem like I was really concerned or that I was being halfway responsible. Instead, I inched my butt off the bed and drove my pants and underwear down my thighs. My raging erection sprang forward, delighting in the freedom.

"Oh my," she smiled, taking my cock in her hand and delivering a slow, sensuous stroke. "Weíre just a tad excited, arenít we?"

I bit my lip and nodded. I looked down at her small hand wrapped tightly around my shaft, working faster, then slower.

"Are you sure she wonít hear us -- in your room I mean," I asked in anticipation.

I stared up at the profile of her breasts jiggling with the motion of her pumping fist.

"No, she wonít hear us. Sheís a really sound sleeper," she answered, loosening her grip slightly.

She bathed my cock in the pre-cum that had started to form, gliding her hand up and down my shaft with luscious rhythm. I looked into her eyes.

"Okay, okay," I moaned. "Letís go in your room."

She smiled a mischievous smile and slowed the movement of her hand. "We could go to my room," she whispered. "But thereís something really exciting about doing it right here, donít you think?"

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, trying to relax myself so that I wouldnít cum. "Your -- Mom -- get up and find us," I managed to grunt in broken words as she slowed her hand.

"I know, the danger of it all is such a turn on."

She grinned and used her free hand to move her hair to the side as her face leaned over my swollen member. I looked down and stared into her eyes as she gripped the base of my cock, right before her mouth engulfed the sensitive head.

"Skylarrr," I moaned, as her lips moved up and down my shaft, her eyes remaining fixed with my own. I watched my cock vanish in the warmth of her mouth, her lips pressed tightly around me. She slid all the way up until I could see traces of saliva glistening on my thickened shaft, then slowly plunged back down until I had all but disappeared into her throat. She lifted up for a moment, pumping me with her hand.

"Your cock tastes so good, David," she whispered before engulfing me again, driving up and down in a deep, tight sucking motion.

"Gonna cum," I whispered as my thighs started to tremble.

Quickly she eased up, caressing me ever so gently with her hand to maintain my arousal, but careful not to push me over the edge. She paused and scooted to the edge of the bed. I started to pull my pants up, ready to follow her to the bedroom.

"No," she whispered, fumbling for the drawstring that held closed her pajama bottoms. "I want to do it here."

"Skylar, we canít," I whispered, but she wasnít listening.

She slid the pajama bottoms down her thighs and stepped out of them before standing up and facing me. My cock lurched at the site of her naked body waiting to be taken. The rational side of me thought to argue. The irrational side of me won, and I slid my own pants further down, wrestling them around the bottom of my feet and kicking them off to the side. She climbed on to the bed and straddled my partially nude body, while staring down at me with the most erotically charged expression Iíd seen in a very long time.

"This is so naughty," she giggled, unbuttoning the two buttons that held closed her pajama top.

She peeled it off and tossed it to the end of the bed. As she worked the buttons of my shirt loose, I stole a moment just to look at her, to take in every detail. Her long curly brown hair framed her face and washed down her bare shoulders; her full, naked breasts were heaving in the stream of light that peeked through the living room window. She was right about one thing; the sensation of her nudity straddling me, her fingernails parting my shirt and scraping into my chest, her eyes locked with my own, all in a situation that could be discovered at any moment was both dangerous and yet incredibly arousing.

I reached up and cradled her cheeks in my palms, pulling her lips against mine to resume the intoxicating kissing we had discovered earlier. As our passion started to boil, I felt my hips lifting against her. She responded immediately, sliding lower until her drenched pussy slid back and forth against my aching hard-on. I ran my hands down to her bare hips and guided her body against mine as the sounds of our combined moaning washed between our kisses. She broke from our embrace and leaned upright, staring down at me.

"David . . . I want you to fuck me."

I applied one hand to her narrow waist as she lifted up, allowing me to use my other to guide my cock back and forth against her moistened entrance.

"Now . . ." she moaned in quiet desperation.

I lifted my hips until I could feel my alignment, then returned my hands to her waist and guided her backwards. I sank inside her without resistance as I watched her jaw shudder with the sensation of my cock entering. She looked down at me and we exchanged smiles as she sat all the way back and then rose, my hands guiding her hips up and down.

She covered her breasts with her hands, pulling and twisting at the hardened nipples as she rocked her body against me in luscious rhythm. Her teeth clenched and I saw a smile form as she squeezed her own breasts. As I stared into her eyes, fucking her, feeling her naked body moving against mine, moving harder, then softer, faster then slower, the intensity grew even further. I slid my hands up her lower back and guided her off of me.

"Weíre not stopping?" she whispered in a stressful tone.

"Only getting started," I whispered, rolling on top and easing myself between her legs.

I repositioned my cock near her pussy and paused a moment to slide the head back and forth against her swollen clit. Her legs arched and pressed against my hips as I toyed with her further, teasing the sensitive nib before easing forward and sliding inside. Our rhythm became one with my entire body tensing up as I pressed and withdrew in long, delicious strides.

"Hard," she whimpered. "Harder, David," scraping at my back with her fingernails.

Her breasts jiggled against my chest with the motion and I smiled to myself as I delivered on her request, burying my hips between her legs in thrust after thrust. I closed my eyes and arched my body as I took her, becoming more and more aroused with the sound of her muffled moans, the feeling of her thighs wrapped snugly around my hips. Harder I pushed, driving deep with all I had to give, biting my own lip to keep from screaming out loud. Her hands started to clamber across my chest as her legs clamped around me, her hips bucking against my own.

"Iím going to cum, David," she whimpered, squeezing hard into my waist. "Oh God, Iím going to cum . . ."

"Cum for me," I moaned, ramming my cock inside her. "Cum for me, Mary . . ."

I froze as soon as I heard the words spill out of my mouth. I tried to recover, resuming my thrusts and whispering for her to enjoy the pending orgasm, but it was too late. Skylarís body had gone limp beneath me. I opened my eyes and saw her staring up at me, an expression of bewilderment on her face. I kissed her, trying in vain to pretend I hadnít just muttered her motherís name.

"It feels so good," I moaned, caressing her deathly still lips with mine as I tried to keep my half-erect cock inside her.

The moment was gone; the gig was up. I continued shrinking into a limp and lifeless state as Skylarís arms fell from around me and against the bed.

"Iím sorry," I said, resting my forehead against the mattress.

"Get off me David," she said in a monotone voice.

I rolled off and she sat up immediately, sorting through the tangled clothes and sheets on the foot of the bed. I stared at the ceiling, then lifted myself into a sitting position. We dressed in silence, me pulling on my pants, Skylar standing to the side and wrestling on her pajama bottoms. I felt obligated to say something, although I wasnít sure what.

"I really am sorry, Skylar," I said. "It just . . . slipped."

"Donít even talk to me, David," she said as she pulled on her pajama top.

I put on my shirt, but didn't bother buttoning it as I stood and pulled my pants the remainder of the way up. Sober or not, I had to get out of there. I took a seat on the bed and started looking for my shoes.

"I was really enjoying it," I added, trying to say something that would break the tension.

She stared at me as she finished getting dressed. "Well, the least you could have done was wait about a minute or two longer before you called out my motherís name. Your timing was about as bad as it gets, if you know what I mean."

I looked up and forced a smile. "Forgive me?" I asked sheepishly.

She plopped herself into a seat on the bed next to me. "I guess," she sighed. "I pretty much forced you into it, so I guess I deserve what I get."

"Well, I wouldnít say you forced me into it and, believe it or not, I was enjoying it."

She turned to me with a hint of pain in her eyes. "David, you never really answered my question at lunch that day. Have you slept with my mom too? Is that why you were thinking about her when we were doing it?"

I could see where she was going with this. It was almost certain she had quizzed Mary about our relationship and no doubt heard the same thing I had said -- nothing romantic, only friends. If Mary and I had been sleeping together, and I could see why Skylar might think we had, it would mean absolute betrayal -- not only by me, but more importantly by Mary.

"No Skylar, we havenít slept together," I said with absolute conviction. "I was telling you the truth when I said we were only friends; she doesnít even know Iím attracted to her. Besides, she's interested in somebody else and not me. That was made painfully clear earlier tonight."

"Who? I wasn't aware she was interested in anybody?"

"That GQ-looking-guy she was hanging all over when we came back in from the backyard."

"I didn't see him."

"Well trust me, I did."

She stared down at her lap, fiddling with the draw strings of her pajama bottoms. "Well, if you're so attracted to my mom, why didn't you tell her instead of going to bed with me?"

I took a deep breath and thought about how I should answer. She had a point. "Well, honestly, as ridiculous as it sounds, when I saw her fawning all over that guy tonight I felt like I'd been dumped. I figured if I'm still single -- then why not act like I'm still single . . . I'm just mixed up, that's all, and I'm sorry for dragging you into it." She looked up at me, staring in my eyes, as if trying to assess my honesty. "Iím telling you the truth, Skylar. I might be a jerk, but Iím not a liar."

"Youíre not a jerk, David," she said, seemingly relieved. "A lousy lover, but not a jerk."

"Lousy?" I said in defense. "You seemed to be enjoying it!"

"Iím teasing with you," she smiled. We sat in silence for a minute, when I felt her eyes on me again. "Wait a minute -- back to what you said earlier about my Mom not knowing youíre attracted to her."

"What about it?"

She stared into my eyes like she was reading my every thought. "Itís more than that, isnít it?"

"More than what?"

"More than being attracted to her. Youíre in love with her, arenít you?"

"Love is a big word, Skylar," I said, laughing nervously. "I've barely gotten to know her."

"You know what I mean."

I put my head in my hands as her words rang through my mind. "Yeah, I guess I am," I confessed without looking up.

We were silent for what seemed like minutes. "I think you should tell her," she added.

"Oh right -- before or after I mention you and I have slept together?"

I was barely finished with my sentence when Skylar looked away, then back towards me, an expression of panic on her face. "SHIT!" she whispered.

"What is it?"

"Didnít you hear that? Sheís awake!" She stood up, fumbling quickly to fasten the remaining buttons on her pajama top. "Do something, she canít find us out here like this!"

"Like what? Weíre just talking!"

"Your shirt David!" she hissed between her teeth.

I looked down at my exposed chest, the tails of my shirt hanging at my sides. I hadnít even buckled my belt. "What do I do?" I whispered back.

"Distract her! Get a drink of water or something!" she said, giving me a shove towards the kitchen.

I paused at the doorway, improvising as best I could, stuffing my shirt in my pants and buttoning every other button as my heart pounded in my chest. I made my way towards the sink and wrestled through the cupboard that held the glasses, trying to make as much noise as I could. It seemed to work, as within moments I heard Maryís bare feet shuffling across the linoleum floor. I turned to find her standing behind me; her arms hugging closed a floor length, silk-looking robe. Her hair was a bit disheveled, but she still looked beautiful.

"Canít sleep?" she asked.

"Thirsty," I replied, holding up a glass. My heartbeat started to slow when I realized my diversionary tactic had worked.

"Yeah, I couldnít sleep either," she said, making her way over and grabbing a glass of her own.

I filled mine with water from the built-in dispenser on the refrigerator door, then finished by filling hers. We moved to the kitchen table and took a seat.

"So what was eating at you earlier?" she asked.

"Earlier? Oh nothing," I replied all too quickly.

"David, cut the bullshit, would you? Thatís why I couldnít sleep, I could tell something was bothering you, now spill it."

Skylarís last words rang through my brain -- you should tell her. I took a deep breath and blurted it out. "I was jealous, okay?"

"You were what?" she asked with a confused look.

"Jealous . . . when I was outside, and then came back in and you were practically pawing all over that jock-looking attorney guy; it made me jealous. I know I have no right to be, but I was."

I was expecting some lecture about how jealousy is a futile emotion, or a reminder of how clear she was about not being interested in a relationship. Instead she started laughing, slowly at first, then almost hysterically.

"Whatís so funny," I said, trying to act annoyed, but finding myself laughing along with her.

She covered her mouth with her hand until she had calmed down. "You mean Brad? The tall, good looking guy I walked outside with?"

"I didnít get his name; the guy who looked like he was headed off to audition for a sportswear ad."

"Yeah, thatís the one. Well, Brad was alone tonight because his significant other had made alternative plans."

"Significant other?"

"Uh huh. I think he said his name is Tim."

"Tim?"

"David, Brad is a dear friend of mine and I love him to death, but heís as queer as a three-dollar-bill. The funniest part is when I walked him to the car, he asked me if YOU were seeing anybody because you were such a loner all night long, he figured you were gay or something."

I couldnít help but start laughing myself and Mary was quick to join in. When we finally regained our composure, she filled in a few more of the details. It seemed she had met Brad during her initial stint at law school and they had started studying together. She had decided the hours and stress were too much, but he had continued on, eventually graduating and hooking up with one of the more prestigious firms in town. They had stayed in reasonably close touch ever since, which explained the chummy behavior I saw.

Just when I thought I was off the hook, she asked me to explain the jealousy thing. I started to try and dodge the question, but figured, at this point, it really didnít matter. I told her the truth; until a short while ago, I wasnít sure how I felt about her. Okay, I did leave out that my realization came when I was fucking her daughter. Nobody said I had to include all the details. Still, while I was confused before, it was clear to me now. I did have romantic feelings for Mary; very strong feelings that werenít going away no matter how much I tried to deny them, and I told her that.

She listened intently to my every word, but didnít respond. As a moment of silence hung between us I started feeling very exposed, like I was about to hear another round of Ďletís be friendsí; that I didnít need.

"Well, now you know and now itís time for me to go," I said, getting up to put my glass in the sink.

She stood and met me halfway, placing her hands lightly on my waist. "That is so sweet, David," she whispered, staring into my eyes. "I had no idea you felt that way."

"Truthfully, Mary . . . I had no idea I felt that way . . . or at least I didnít want to admit that I did."

"You want to know something?" she asked. "Ever since that night on the dance floor, I havenít been able to get you out of my mind. I tried making myself believe that what I told you that night on the porch swing was true -- that we were friends, that this wasnít supposed to be romantic. But my heart kept telling me something very different. I knew that night how attracted I was to you, but I thought it would pass. Maybe I wanted it to pass. I knew I didn't want to get hurt all over again . . ." She stared up at me, waiting for me to respond.

"I donít know what to say, Mary."

"Well, you could say youíre happy to hear I feel the same," she smiled, wrapping her arms around me.

"I am happy to hear that . . ."

"I sense thereís something else, David, what is it?" I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing how to respond. "Is it Skylar?" My heart skipped with her question. "Youíre worried she wonít like you, is that it? Iíll admit, she was cold to you in the beginning, but tonight she seemed to warm up to you."

You have no idea, I thought silently to myself. "Well, I know how overprotective she is about you."

"David," she whispered, so close I could feel her breath against my face. "Sheís got to learn that Iím not going to be alone for the rest of my life. I need companionship as much as the next person."

I paused, trying to decide what to do. This was getting way too confusing and my stomach was in knots as she talked. All I could think about was how badly I had blown what was probably the most incredible opportunity to find companionship since my divorce. I could never be with Mary, not after I had just been with Skylar.

"Why donít I call you tomorrow -- or today," I said, realizing it was already the next morning. "Iím a little fuzzy right now and think it would be better if we both got some sleep . . ."

"You have to go?" she said in a disappointed voice.

"I donít want to, but I think I should . . ."

"Wait here . . . I'll change your mind," she said, disappearing towards her bedroom.

I didn't know what she had in mind, but also figured I better not take any chances. I made my way down the hall to the bathroom and closed the door behind me. Pulling down my pants, I grabbed a handful of liquid soap from the dispenser on the sink and gave my dick a quick scrubbing. If I didn't feel like a jerk before, I sure felt like one now. Still, I knew women had a sixth sense when it came to other women, even those related to them, and if Mary sensed Skylar on me it would be curtains in more ways than one. I was just shaking off the shudder from the cold water and toweling myself off when I heard a light tap on the door.

"Skylar, are you in there?" Mary said.

I pulled up my pants, dried my hands, and fastened the remaining buttons on my shirt before opening the door. "No, it's me."

"Oh good; I thought for a second you made a break for it."

I laughed. "No, nothing like that."

She took my hand. "Come with me," she smiled, leading me down the hallway.

"Where are we going?"

"Youíll see."

She led me into her bedroom and quietly shut the door behind us. There was a clock radio on the nightstand that had been switched on and tuned to an easy listening station. The music that poured out was surprisingly rich for such a small unit. She took my hands in hers, placing them lightly on her waist as she stared up at me with those incredible brown eyes.

"May I have one last dance before you go, kind sir?" she whispered with an embarrassed grin.

I felt myself blushing in return as I took her in my arms, pulling her close. "Youíre too much, you know that?"

We moved together, just as we had the first night on the dance floor. The thin material of her robe made it clear that she was nude beneath it. I pulled her closer until I felt her breasts pressing into my chest. We danced in silence for at least two songs, holding one another in a tight embrace. It was almost like we were making up for lost time. It felt so good to wrap Mary in my arms, so natural, so right. Any doubts, any uncertainty I had regarding our future seemed a million miles away. We had that moment; thatís all that mattered. As we continued to dance, our bodies began to move together in a gentle friction. My cock was already fully erect and surged as I felt her press her hips into me.

"Hmmmmm," she moaned softly, pressing her cheek against mine, sliding her hips back and forth against my arousal.

I wanted to climb inside her feminine curves. Still, as much as I felt that this moment was ours, I was still painfully aware that less than an hour before I was inside another woman. Simply moving on to make love to Mary was more than questionable, no matter how desirable she was.

"You feel good, David," she whispered in my ear, grinding her hips against my cock.

"So do you Mary . . ."

"David, will you make love to me?"

My heart surged with her words. The answer was clearly yes, but the question was understated. I bought myself a few extra seconds by drawing her into a deep, passionate kiss. She was an extraordinary kisser, sliding her mouth inside mine with a stealth-like rhythm. I pulled back and looked into her eyes.

"Mary, I want to more than anything . . . but, I donít know if we should . . ."

She paused. "I know, Iím not prepared either."

"Prepared?"

"I havenít had a sexual relationship in a very long time, David, and I sure didnít think weíd be standing here right now. I had no reason to be on the pill and I donít stock the other stuff."

The relief washed over me like a wave. Why hadnít I thought of that? Then again, why hadnít I thought of that when I was with Skylar? Chances were good based on what I heard happening between her and Shawn that she had taken those precautions.

"Well, we can grope, canít we," I chuckled, pulling her close to me again, tracing the small of her back with my hands.

While we tried to place our minds elsewhere, it was obvious the situation was heating up in a hurry. The robe she was wearing provided little resistance to my hands as they roamed across her bottom and up her back. Before long I found myself sliding my palms around and across her breasts, over the pronounced outline of her erect nipples, as I bathed in the warmth of her mouth. Her palm moved to my hip, followed by a tight squeeze of my throbbing cock.

"We should slow this down," she said out of breath. "Itís only making things worse . . ."

"Think clean thoughts Mary," I whispered in her ear, wanting her more than I could describe.

"Clean thoughts . . . Why didnít I think of that?"

"Think of what?"

"Well, I know we canít . . . you know . . . go all the way. But, would you like to take a shower? I bet you feel kind of muggy after that party and Iíve got a really big sponge . . ."

I smiled from ear to ear. "Will you do my back?"

She laughed. "Iíll do your back, all right. Wait here . . ."

She left me for a moment, sliding closed a partition that separated the bathroom area from the bedroom. I took a seat on the bed and waited patiently, listening to the sound of the shower door opening and the water coming on. It was only moments before Mary slid the partition open again, wearing only a towel. The form I had admired that first night in the sundress was barely shielded from my eyes. She looked incredible -- so womanly; her curves mature and pronounced beneath the thin layer of terrycloth.

"Youíre overdressed," she smiled.

"I am indeed," I said, standing and starting to unbutton my shirt.

"Hold on there, thatís my job."

I smiled as she reached out and took my hand, guiding me first towards her, then back against the wall. She stared into my eyes as she worked the buttons of my shirt loose.

"You like the water hot or cold?" she asked as she undressed me.

"Hot, but Iím flexible."

"I like to taste the steam," she said, pushing back the lapels of my shirt and running her palms down my chest.

I took a deep breath as she leaned forward running her mouth over my nipple. Slowly she circled it with her tongue before sweeping across in a string of kisses until she had reached the other side.

"You have a nice chest, David," she whispered, returning her mouth to mine.

"So do you," I smiled, gently tracing my fingers inside the edge of the towel and against her skin. She smiled into my eyes and bit her lip as I worked loose the towel. It fell to the floor with a muffled thud. I swallowed hard as I looked down at her erect nipples. My eyes traced down further to a rich bed of dark brown pubic hair.

She took my belt, tugging at it until the clasp was free. I felt my breathing getting jagged as she worked loose the button that held my trousers closed. I wanted to be free and nude with Mary and she could sense it. She worked the pants loose and slid them over my hips until they fell the rest of the way under their own weight. She giggled as she looked down at the pronounced ridge fighting to be freed.

"I see we made the switch to boxer shorts," she giggled.

"Didnít have to ask me twice."

We laughed as she slid her fingers inside the waistband, teasing and taunting me.

"Mary?"

"Yes David?"

"Are you going to pull them down, or should I?"

"You men . . . always in such a hurry."

She grinned and left me standing against the wall, my boxer shorts still wrapped snugly around my waist, my now granite-like erection clearly outlined. I watched the curve of her bare bottom as she moved into the bathroom. I slid my boxers down my thighs and stepped out of them, following her into the bathroom. Mary opened the shower door and reached inside, fanning her hand back and forth under the water.

"Feels just right," she whispered, taking my cock in her damp grip and applying a long stroke from base to top.

I shuddered slightly at the feel of her skin against mine as I reached forward and cradled her soft cheeks in my hands, guiding her mouth to my own. She continued kissing me as she led me by the cock into the steaming stream of water. I pulled the door closed behind us and turned to see her leaning her head back, drenching her mane of thick brown curls under the pulsating flow. She swung her head from side to side for a moment and opened her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me in a seductive tease.

"I canít believe Iím not more nervous," she said.

I smiled, realizing this moment felt as right for her as it did for me. I reached behind her to the rack hanging down from the showerhead and grabbed the soap in one hand and an oversized sponge in the other. Working up a generous lather, I began a gentle caress of Maryís shoulder, running the sponge down her arm, then across her shoulder and down her ample chest. I watched with anticipation as her breasts heaved under the water flowing down and over her shoulders.

Gently I moved the sponge across one nipple as I leaned down and used my mouth to encase the other. I felt her fingers drawing through my hair and pulling me into her as I went to work on her breasts. One received the lather and the sponge as the other fell prey to my wandering mouth. I guided her back gently, rinsing the soap that had gathered, before alternating my attack.

"Oh David," she moaned, "Itís been so long since Iíve felt like this . . ."

Her words trailed off as I pressed the sponge against her stomach, letting a river of suds flow down her bare navel and across her waiting arousal. I dropped the sponge to the shower floor, replacing it with my palm as I began a slow descent, my mouth moving against hers. Just as my fingers slid between her legs, I felt her one hand clutch around my neck as her other gripped my engorged cock.

We spent what seemed like minutes working over one anotherís most private areas, me delving deeper inside Mary with my fingers as she pumped her fist up and down my shaft in alternating rhythms. I leaned my head back as she stroked me, staring at the steam rising towards the ceiling. She went to work on my own chest with her mouth, biting, sucking, and tugging at my nipples with her teeth. I was in heaven; there was no other way to describe it.

"This is making me crazy, David. God, I wish we could . . ."

"Me too," I muttered, as the water fell into my mouth and down my chin.

I opened my eyes and looked up at the water pulsating from the shower massager mounted above. I cradled Mary's face, pulling her cheeks close to my own in a deep, lustful kiss as I guided her backwards until she was leaning against the tiled shower wall.

She lifted my hand to her mouth, wrapping her lips oh-so-seductively around my index finger. Staring at me with those incredible brown eyes, she sucked up and down, moaning and sighing with pleasure. I shuddered as she continued, imagining how that gorgeous mouth must feel wrapped around my cock. She continued for several strides, finally easing up and smiling. "Would you like me to do that somewhere else?" she teased.

"No -- itís your turn to beg," I smiled as I reached upward to the showerhead.

I worked loose the massager from its holder and turned to Mary who was giddy with anticipation. Turning the control to the highest setting, the water started pounding in a mechanical circle. We watched together as I directed the stream towards her nipple, circling it around the edge. I worked across her chest to the other side and she giggled again in anticipation. "Lower?" I asked with a sinister grin.

"Yes please . . .," she giggled.

I arched the showerhead across her chest and started down her stomach as she leaned back against the shower wall, spreading her legs. Her hands were palms down against the tile; her breathing heavy as I worked an imaginary line up and down her abdomen with the pulsating flow. Like a surgeon, I was methodical, moving lower and lower, until it was clear she could stand no more.

"Ready?" I whispered, already knowing the answer, but still wanting to hear her say it.

She opened her eyes and stared at me, nodding briskly, yet silently.

I smiled and used my one hand to massage her lips as the showerhead went to work. It wasnít seconds before her hands were laced around my neck as I used the driving rhythm of the shower massager like fingers against and inside her. I teased at her clit, then turned the massager upside down until it was pounding at her opening. Realizing this would only go so far, I used my hands to pick up where the water left off, delving deep inside her -- first one finger, then another, using the force of the water to tickle her clit as I found every erogenous crevice.

Her hips started to rock up and down against the tiled wall with the movements of my hand. I continued, fucking her with my fingers, flicking at her clit with the grinding shower massager until I knew she was close. Like travelling back in time to the dance floor, I smiled and turned the tables.

"Wanna cum?" I teased.

She answered by using the hands she had laced around my neck to draw my mouth into hers. We fucked with our mouths as my fingers disappeared inside her, the showerhead continuing its massage.

"Iím cumming," she mouthed between kisses.

I could feel her orgasm against my hand as she whimpered in between kisses. Her body started to shake and she hugged tighter around my neck for support. I was mad with desire, but determined not to stop until I was certain Mary couldnít take anymore. Ironically, it was me that couldnít wait any longer.

I dropped the showerhead and it swung backwards against the porcelain tub with a loud clap. Mary didnít seem to notice, drawing her palms to my cheeks and engulfing me with her mouth in a furious kiss. I used my fingers to deliver a final, hard tug to her nipples before turning her around to face the wall. She seemed to be reading my every thought, spreading her legs as wide as the tub would allow and arching her beautiful ass up in the air.

I bent down and positioned my cock, lifting up and inside her. Her head tilted back and she let out a lustful moan as I buried myself in a forceful thrust. I grabbed her hips and began fucking her with all I had to offer, shuddering and watching as she ground against me with her bottom. Knowing I couldnít last long, I wrapped my palms around her and massaged her wet breasts as we continued. I could tell she was fighting to muffle her moans as much as I was; yet the sounds of our combined passion seemed to bounce against the shower walls.

"David," she gasped. "You canít cum . . ."

"I know . . ."

I delivered a final set of thrusts and pulled out with barely a moment to spare. Mary was ready and pushed back against me until my cock ran the crevice of her butt. I let out one last muffled scream as I came in wave after wave across her back. She held her position, gently rocking her ass against me, my thighs quivering against her own until my orgasm was complete. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes as I tried to catch my breath.

"You okay," she whispered.

"Incredible," I answered. "Hold still."

I reached backward and grabbed the plastic tube that connected the showerhead and snaked it up in my hands until I could grip the nozzle. With care I washed Mary off, then returned the massager to its holder.

We kissed and held each other for a few moments, then dried one another off. I held her in my arms, never wanting to let her go, but realizing it was time to face up to everything that had happened. The worst part came in realizing that, from where she sat, we had begun a future together. I took her face in my hands and stared into her eyes.

"Mary, thereís something I need to tell you."

She stared up at me and I wondered if she could sense what I was about to say. "You donít need to say it David -- I already know."

"I don't?"

"I think Iím in love with you too."

I shut my eyes and held her head to my chest, as I felt myself fighting back a wave of tears. I would have given anything at that moment to go back in time and change the incidents with Skylar. The best I could hope for was to wait until my mind was clear then decide how to tell her; no matter how much I cared for her, this could never work.

"Mary, I should go -- before Skylar wakes up."

"I know, but I donít want you to leave," she said, her cheek pressed tight against my chest.

I squeezed her tighter. "I donít want to leave."

"Can we lay on the bed for a few minutes and just have you hold me?"

I nodded silently and we made our way out of the bathroom.

 

~~:~~:~~

 

My eyes opened to the sunlight flooding the bedroom. At first I wasnít completely sure where I was or how I got there. I turned to the side to find Mary lying next to me; her head propped up on her hand.

"Morning," she smiled.

"Good morning," I muttered through the worst case of cottonmouth I could remember.

"Sleep well?"

Suddenly I realized I was nude and still in her bed as the weight of the moment hit me. At some point she had gotten up and put on a robe, leaving me to reach down and drag the sheet to cover my exposed chest. I could hear some rumblings in the kitchen -- some cupboards opening and closing, some dishes being shuffled around. I looked at Mary, then to the sound from the other room.

"Itís Skylar -- sheís an early riser."

"Skylar," I said nervously. "I must have fallen asleep. I was going to be gone before she got up."

"You did fall asleep . . . just like a man," she grinned. I sat up in the bed and looked around the room for my pants. Mary reached out and caressed my shoulder lightly. "David, itís okay. I made the decision to let you sleep. Weíll tell her together."

I flopped back into the mattress, realizing there was a lot more to Maryís decision not to wake me than she realized. "What do you think sheíll say?"

She inched herself off the bed. "Get dressed and weíll find out."

I dressed in silence as Mary brushed her teeth. She made it to the door and paused, her hand on the knob. "Nervous?" she asked me.

"Yeah, you?"

"Very. Wait here for a minute, then follow me out."

She turned the knob and opened the door. I stayed behind and listened to the pending conversation. She and Skylar exchanged their good mornings and I could hear Mary pulling down a coffee cup.

"So David must have left early?" I heard Skylar say.

Mary was silent for a moment. "Well, thatís something we need to talk about, Skylar."

I could hear the quiver in her voice as she spoke and decided she shouldnít have to bear the weight of this conversation by herself. I took a deep breath and opened the door. Skylar was seated at the table with a bowl of cereal when I entered the kitchen. She was looking in the direction of the sink where I assumed Mary was standing. She turned to see me entering from the bedroom and I could almost see the color drain from her face.

"Oh -- my -- God!" she shouted.

"Take it easy," Mary said, moving to the table. She reached over and pulled out a chair next to Skylar. "David, come in here and sit down." Sheepishly I moved into the kitchen and took a seat. "Skylar, David spent the night last night."

"Yeah, I pretty much figured that out all my own," Skylar quipped, slamming down her spoon and leaning back in the chair.

Mary continued. "Look, I know this is awkward -- believe me, itís awkward for us too, isnít it David?"

"Very," I mumbled, forcing myself to look at Skylar. I could feel her eyes boring a hole right through me. Her chest was flushed and her breathing was heavy. I was trying desperately to send her a mental request not to mention what happened between her and I the night before.

"So, I guess this was all a big lie -- this friendship of yours and Davidís was more friendly than you let on?" Skylar said, staring at Mary then glaring at me.

"No, now I know what youíre thinking because weíve talked about this. David and I were friends, all the way up until last night. Itís hard to describe how things unfolded -- lets just say we discovered some feelings that neither one of us knew the other had -- romantic feelings. I asked David to spend the night Skylar, feeling that you were mature enough to understand that I need male companionship in my life. I love you Skylar, more than anything in the world -- but I have needs that go beyond a mother / daughter relationship."

"So what are you saying, you two are a couple now?"

Mary leaned forward and took her daughterís hand. "Skylar, please try and understand and please try and accept David into our lives. Will you at least give him a chance . . . for me?"

Skylar turned to me and stared for what seemed like minutes before turning back to Mary. "I don't know if I can do that."

Mary squeezed her hand. "Will you try?"

Skylar paused, staring into her eyes. "I'll try, but Iím not making any promises."

Mary leaned forward and kissed her gently. "Thank you, Skylar. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

"Iím going to get dressed," Mary said. "David, are you hungry? Help yourself to whatever you want."

"Okay, thanks."

Mary took her coffee and disappeared into the bedroom. As soon as I heard her door close, I looked in Skylarís direction. "I didnít plan this," I said. She glanced up at me, but didnít respond. "Say something, Skylar . . . anything."

"Anything," she said with sarcastic twang in her voice. "You know, when I said to distract her last night . . . I didnít mean you had to distract her THAT much."

I forced a smile. "Believe me, I never would have anticipated that last night would end up the way it did -- that includes you and me, by the way."

"Well, that makes two of us. You can probably figure out that this whole thing doesnít make me feel very good. I hope you didn't tell her -- about us, I mean."

"Of course I didn't tell her. Do you think I'm nuts?" She stared at me. "You don't need to answer that."

She smiled, helping to break the tension. "I guess I'm not used to such a dent in my ego," she added. "I mean, it's not every day I find myself wanting a guy and throwing myself at him, only to have him reject me -- for my mother, no less."

I felt an emptiness form in the pit of my stomach. Her words were hurtful, but true. "Let me ask you something, Skylar. Did you really want me -- I mean, honestly want me, or was it something else?"

"Whatís that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, I'm not the type of guy you would go for, we both know that. What I guess I'm asking is, was it me, or was it the challenge you were after?"

At first she didn't answer. "Oh, I donít know. I guess, yeah, I wanted you that much more because you were playing hard to get. It was like a challenge -- but yes, I like you -- or rather I used to like you. If I didnít, I would have just let you go."

I was feeling worse with each passing moment. "Well, I still like you and what happened between us -- I mean, if I would have known about your mom and me, it never would have happened. But it did, and now I have to deal with it -- we both have to deal with it. I'd like to think we both learned something from it, wouldn't you?"

She let out a deep sigh. "Yeah, I learned that men aren't worth the heartache, but I already knew that. Youíre are a nice guy, David, and I can tell youíll be good for my mom. She needs somebody like you in her life. I just . . ."

"You just what?"

"I just donít want to see her get hurt again. Promise me that David -- promise me you wonít hurt her . . ."

"I canít make forever promises like that, Skylar, but you have my word that Iíll do my very best. I think I'm as much at risk of suffering a broken heart in this situation as your mom is . . . I mean, I'm really hooked on her."

She smiled, her eyes telling me she realized I was telling the truth. "So, what does this mean?" she asked. "I mean, how are we supposed to act around each other after what happened last night?"

"Well, I think we should try and start over as friends and go from there. I think youíre a great person Skylar. I donít know about you, but I can never have enough friends.

She forced a smile and nodded her head in agreement. "How bout one last hug?" she asked. "As friends, I mean."

I smiled, stood up, and she wrapped her arms around my neck in an embrace much like youíd receive from a sister. You could definitely have fit an abridged dictionary between us. "So what happened between you and I is our secret?" I asked as we had stepped away from one another.

She looked at me. "What? Like anybody would actually believe Iíd go for an old guy like you?"

I laughed. "Good point . . . Thanks Skylar."

"Want some cereal?" she asked, returning to her seat and pushing the box in my direction.

"Yeah . . . some cereal sounds good."

 

~~:~~:~~

 

It took about three months, ten days and a handful of hours for Mary and I to call off the romantic part of our relationship.

It was a torrid first month we spent together, followed by a reality check that I couldn't mold the facts to mend my conscience. The closer Mary and I got to one another, the more I felt myself pulling away. As hard as I tried, I just couldn't put aside what happened between me and Skylar and the haunting memory of it all felt like a bad gambling debt that I'd eventually be called to pay. These days I'm living with another dose of reality; the one that I'm more in love with Mary now--six months after the breakup--than I ever was before.

Our parting of ways happened just as I thought it would originally. No big blowout, no yelling, nothing like that. Instead we just drifted apart--one day at a time. She was the one to finally suggest we give ourselves some space. The writing was on the wall, she said, and something had to give. As demanding as everything else was in her life, she didn't need to add a bitter breakup. No hard feelings, she emphasized, but it was better to face the reality. I reluctantly agreed, gave her one last kiss, and sat in my car crying harder than I've ever cried in my entire life.

Skylar called me at the office the following day to ask if she was the cause of the breakup and to reinforce that she would never have told Mary about that infamous night. I believed her and told her so, but at the same time I felt like I was living a lie. I told her that too.

I've spent quite a bit of time in the 'wish-I-shoulda-coulda' mode when it comes to Mary and me, thinking how differently things might have been. I wish I had maintained myself better around Skylar, at least to the point that the physical attraction wasn't so obvious. I shouldn't have given in so easily that night in the backyard when things started heating up between us. Also, if I hadn't been so soused, we wouldn't have ended up in such a compromising position on that hide-a-bed. But more than anything, I wish I would have been honest with Mary about my feelings. If I would have put aside my ego and confessed my jealousy that night, the worst I would have had to endure was rejection. Instead I ended up losing so much more.

I saw her recently. Oddly enough, I've become quite the fan of wine and bumped into her at another one of Mark and Susan's tasting parties. It had been almost six months since we'd seen one another and she was as beautiful as I remembered. We spent most of the evening in that same corner of the yard reminiscing, laughing, exchanging terrible lawyer jokes, and ignoring everyone around us.

The last thing I remember was her gorgeous smile as I walked her to her car. Call me sometime, she said, as she pulled the door shut and started the engine. I'm not sure if she really wants me to call, or if she was just saying that. Maybe she wants me to call occasionally--like every six months--just to check in. Or maybe . . . maybe she meant I should call her soon? Maybe there's a second chance brewing here to start over? Considering how much I miss her, maybe I'm just reading too much into it all.

One thing I do know; this dating game can get awfully complicated sometimes.


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