Page 01
This is a fictional story and all the characters are above 18.
And thank you BriM_0261
And thank you BriM_0261
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I am Lucas, and I was two months from the end of my last year of high school when I lost my father in an accident. He had been a rock to me, giving me everything that I could ask for. After losing him, my whole world fell apart, though I was determined to stay strong for my mother. I love her more than a son ever could, but only I knew it and kept it buried deep inside of me. I took care of the funeral while my mother stayed holed up in the house. She was totally oblivious. She kept on drinking and smoking. I tried to speak to her, but she just dismissed my attempts.
She drank and smoked throughout the house, and I cleaned up after her mess. Sometimes I had to take her to bed when she fell asleep at the dining table or on the sofa. It broke my heart to see my mother in this state. She was once a radiant woman, full of life and energy, but now just two months after my father’s death she was merely a shell of her former self. I knew I had to stay strong for her, but it felt like I was losing my mother too. Not being able to do anything for her, I thought maybe giving her space for a few days would be better.
And with my final days of school approaching, I had my own worries—exams and all. With my best effort, I finished my exams. Only I knew that what I put in was the bare minimum, just enough to escape the hell of school. Not to brag, but I had been an exceptional student. Losing my father and my mother, who was totally unstable, sent me on a losing streak. Still, I managed to pull myself together and passed the exams in the end.
As summer began, my friends had it all planned out, full of parties, girls, and alcohol, but I wasn't interested in them as my mind was occupied with my mother.
Shortly after I graduated, surprisingly, she had started going out, all dressed up. I never really had the chance to talk to her about it, but while I was busy with my job, taking care of our house, shopping, and everything else, she took the money from my dad's insurance and began using it up. Mother had given me the login credentials for her online bank account so I could handle the household bills and stuff, and I could see the one big deposit and the many, many withdrawals. I decided to let her be. I desperately wanted her to recover and she seemed to start coming around. She drank less, showered more, helped a little around the house, and wore some new clothes. I was happy to see it.
Around the same time as Mother seemed to be recovering, one of my father's friends, Jeremy, who owns a carpentry business, offered me a job. I had done a little woodworking with Dad, and he taught me a lot plus I still had his tools. Jeremy said he’d teach me everything I needed to know about carpentry. Work was good, with a lot of jobs coming in. Jeremy and his family had been in the industry for years, and they had an excellent reputation, which brought in a lot of clients. Soon I was earning decent money.
After I started making money, I bought groceries, learned to cook, and even prepared meals for my mother and served them in her room when she was home. But even when she was, she treated the things I did as things that I should be doing as the man of the house now. She didn’t really appreciate my efforts, and when she was home, she thought I should take care of her.
One day, I had been away at a job site in the town next to ours, and after being done for the day, I returned home to find a car parked in the lawn. For sure, I knew that car didn't belong to anyone I knew, so parking my car next to that one, I walked to the door, wondering who it was.
Entering through the door, I saw my mother sitting with a man. He seemed to be a few years older than her, and she was sitting close to him. Frowning upon seeing the scene in front of me, questions crept into my mind.
Seeing my confused look, my mother held his hand and said, "Son, meet Robert, my husband, your stepfather."
"Stepfather?" My brain was not braining; it was too much for me to see my mother with another man and so close together.
Even when my father was alive, sometimes I used to get jealous seeing them cuddling in front of me, and I would just leave the room, thinking that my thoughts were wrong and disgusting. The way I felt about my mother was taboo, but I could never get over it. I tried to ignore those thoughts as much as I could. I like to think no one saw those feelings in me, but I still had them.
There was one time though. I clearly remember the talk I had with my father. I think he noticed me looking at his wife and how I gazed at her passionately, like a man does. He didn't berate me or show any anger for having feelings like that towards his wife—my mother. He just talked with me like a friend and helped me understand that it was just a phase and I would soon get over it.
But my father didn’t know that the feelings only got stronger the more I grew up with them. I just got better at hiding them.
I had much more selfish and vile thoughts after my father died, and thought now that my father wasn’t around, I could be her man. I could be with her. That's how I perceived it. But after realizing what I was thinking and remembering my father, I felt disgusted with myself. Should I be thinking like that about the man and woman who raised me? I didn't know; I had no one to talk to. It was just me and my own thoughts.
I didn't let my intrusive thoughts win. I tried my best to be there for her, got a job, took care of the bills, and maintained the house while she healed. But I didn't see this coming.
And, of course, she would be looking for another man. But my father passed away just four months ago. How could she move on so quickly? They seemed like a charming couple who were deeply devoted to each other.
"What did you say?" I could barely hear my voice.
My mother, still holding his hands, said, "We got married. We met last month and hit it right off. I hope you can understand and be happy for us."
I think something happened to my brain as her words seemed to slow down and my mind was racing with a mix of emotions. It might sound like I’m exaggerating, but that was how I felt at the moment. I thought she was just trying to relax, getting dressed up and going out all those times, maybe meeting her old friends again.
Yeah, I was an idiot, not to put two and two together—dressing up, going out, spending money. My love for her had blinded me. I mean, it had been hard for me, when my father was around, to ignore my thoughts, but if my father was the one who had been with her, I could handle it. But not another man.
And how could she marry without even saying anything to me? Did she even consider me? Before I blew up at her, I asked, trying to suppress my tone, "Answer me, Mom? Did you hook up with this man right after my father's funeral?"
Her expression was all wide-eyed innocence and she said, "Well, it happened when I was out with my friends. He seemed really nice, and he was such a gentleman. I thought it would be a mistake if I missed him, so we started seeing each other, and he proposed."
Man! She was talking so much that I was gonna blow up, but I asked, straining my voice, "Did you not think of me, to ask me before you decided to marry him? Or you thought I was also dead, like my father?"
"Lucas!" she shouted as she got up.
"Yes, Mom?"
Then there was that invisible man, whom I had been trying to ignore from the moment I entered the house. He interrupted and said, "Son, try to listen to your mother and see what she has to say."
My eyes turned to him, and I said, in a quiet, menacing voice, "I am not your son, and it would be better for you to keep your mouth shut."
"Lucas!"
I looked back at her as her hand slapped my cheek. She slapped me on the left cheek, in front of that man, who was now looking smug. What the fuck!
"Don't you dare talk to my husband like that!"
"DAMN IT, MOM, what the hell happened to you? Husband? What about my father?"
"He is dead."
"How can you say it like that?" I don't know if I was making any sense, but the way she was dismissing my father felt really wrong. He had given us everything—this house, the insurance money. Everything we had now was thanks to the man, her dead husband, my father.
"Lucas, I have needs, and I also desire the affection and touch of a man. I can't stay like this forever."
"What about me then? Didn't you feel like asking me?"
"Lucas, it's my life, and I get to decide what to do with it. I don't need your permission."
Whoa! Who was this woman? I know she looked like the woman I loved, but she sure didn’t sound like her. She was getting defensive now, using her needs to defend ignoring mine.
"So, you want to do whatever you like and live your life as you see fit?"
She stayed silent. I didn't understand why she was so angry with me. Was I not her son? Wouldn't she at least ask me if I wanted another man in the house? After all, she knew exactly how much I loved my father, even if she didn’t know how I loved her. Okay, so over the past few years, we hadn’t really seen eye-to-eye on things, and we didn’t really talk to each other. Seeing what she was doing now, it felt like she was doing this with the purpose of hurting me.
I was angry—so angry I could break everything in front of me.
Then she said, "Robert will live here with us from now on, so I expect you to behave properly and show respect to him, as he is now your stepfather."
"Stepfather. Fuck off!"
"Even if you don't like it, it's the truth. You have to learn to accept it."
"So he is all the man you need now, is it?"
"Yes!"
"Fine, then." I went to my room, packed my things, and came back down.
With the bag in my hand, I walked to the door, and then she asked me, "Where are you going? What's with the bag?"
I didn't look back and said, "I'm leaving, and you can stay with that fuckface all you want and where you want."
She came after me and shouted, "Stop there, Lucas! You can't leave. Why can't you understand me?"
"Well, it's your life, and you do as you liked. This is my life, and I'll do what I want with it."
I didn't look back and got to the car. It was a Cruze, my dad's car. I didn't want to leave it behind, so I took it with me. I drove off without looking back.
My phone rang repeatedly, and I knew it was my mother. I drove to my friend James' house and asked him if I could crash in for a few days. We had been friends since middle school, and he would never question me or ask me what happened.
James' mom was away on business, so there was only him in the house right now.
James took me to a party that night, seeing my sour mood. I went along with him because I wanted to take my mind off it.
We drank and drank until we were no longer able to move. The whole night, we just drank and danced a lot. It was refreshing to let it all out. I screamed and jumped like a maniac.
For the next whole week, James dragged me around to all the parties he was invited to. I didn't even go to work, telling Jeremy that I needed some time off. He didn't say anything, as I was always working. He even encouraged me to take as much time as I needed.
I got a message from my mother, saying to come home, but I didn't reply. As much as I wanted to go, I held myself back. She made it clear that it was her life, so why bother calling me now. She should live her life.
On the morning of the last day of the weekend, I woke up to noise, and then I felt like someone was calling my name.
Groggy from the previous night's alcohol, I slowly opened my eyes to see a beautiful woman. My vision was still blurry, and I couldn't really tell who she was. In my foggy state, I thought she was some girl I had hooked up with last night.
Acting on impulse, I pulled her down onto the bed, then wrapped my hands around her. After working for a couple of months in the field, which involved pretty heavy work, and I also worked out to build up my six-foot physique. Burying my face in the back of her neck, she smelled really nice, and it only aroused me more. My morning boner poked right into her ass. She was saying something, but I wasn't in the mood to listen to her. She tried to wiggle under my arms, but she couldn't get herself out of my grip. As she struggled more, my hard cock rubbed on her ass more, and that's when I heard her moan.
My hands began to roam, and my lips brushed against her skin. Her soft skin and the smell were intoxicating. Man! How could I forget such a girl. Did we make out last night? Damn, why does alcohol make me forget?
I wrapped my right leg over her right leg, straining to hold her down, and my right hand moved to her breasts. They were really large. I kneaded them to my heart's content, and the moans became louder, and she moaned out loud, "Lucas!"
Suddenly, I was shaken by this voice. No, she wasn't a girl. I opened my eyes to see the familiar blonde-haired woman. She was Ms. Anderson. I fell back onto the floor, completely shocked. It was James' mother. I just molested my best friend's mother. It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured on me. I just stayed on the floor with my jaw floored and my eyes wide open.
What. The. Fuck!
She looked at me with a serious expression, her face flushed with bright red cheeks. She was a really gorgeous woman with porcelain skin and blonde hair, like some Greek goddess. If I were to compare her, she might be Kelly Lynch. But her breasts were bigger, and she had very thick thighs.
Fuck! I was getting horny again. After my mother, she was the second woman I had a crush on ever since I was young. She always treated me with such kindness and love, just like James.
"I'm…I'm sorry, Ms. Anderson. I didn't know. I…I thought you were some girl from last night."
I apologized again and again, but she stared down at me. I looked down and noticed that I was stark naked, and my nine-inch little brother stood like a scout at attention. Not to brag, but I had well-developed muscles from years of working out and running and, like I said, work demands. Then I pulled the sheet and covered myself, apologizing again.
Her hair was a little roughed up, and her robe rose up to her waist, showing her lacy panties.
"I'm sor-" She got up and placed her finger on my lips and said, "Shhhhh, that's okay. It was my mistake too."
Her mistake? I didn't understand.
She adjusted her robe and said, "Now get up and dress yourself."
Then she walked out of the room, leaving me baffled and stunned.
My eyes never left her round ass, which swung right and left as she walked out. The satin robe could only reach up to her thighs, her calves and a little bit of her thighs were bare for my eyes to gawk at. Damn! Here we go, with my horny thoughts.
But why didn't she say anything, even though I felt her up and groped her? Heaving a sigh, I got up. I looked at the note. It was from James saying that he had left. He left early in the morning with his girlfriend. He had already said that he would go in the early morning. It seemed like he had said that he informed his mother, who came in last night, about my stay here.
I wore my shorts and a tee and went downstairs. Caren Anderson was in the kitchen.
She noticed me coming down the stairs and said, "Lucas, come have breakfast with me."
They have a maid, Portia, who takes care of housework and prepares food for them, and thanks to her, we had a great week with the food. We often got her maid services when we were in the house. I was still unable to look her in the eye. I sat at the table, and Portia brought me breakfast, bacon, eggs, and orange juice.
We ate in silence. It was awkward, and I really didn't know what to say. I knew for a fact that she wasn't angry, and her expression while leaving the room was quite interesting too. It was my best friend's mother I was talking about. I knew that I shouldn't have been thinking such thoughts about her. I am an immoral bastard who thought about my mother like that. Why wouldn't I have lustful thoughts about a gorgeous woman like Caren? Even James said that if she wasn't his mother, he would have done her multiple times already. Yeah, drunk talk between buddies.
"A penny for your thoughts." I heard her voice, and I looked at her.
She was looking straight at me. For how long had she been looking at me? We were the only ones in the dining room. Portia seemed to be busy in the kitchen.
"Nothing, just something on my mind."
"So, how's the summer going so far?" she asked while eating.
My mind was completely absorbed in her and watching her movements, her lips, and her face.
"Yeah, it's okay. I have been busy with my carpentry job, so I didn't get to have time for myself, but thanks to James, last week was real fun."
"Oh, I heard your mother got married recently. I saw them, they seemed animated," she said as she looked at me.
My expression turned sore, as I replied, "Yeah, she must be. After all, he was a man she really wanted."
Seeing my bitter, angry look, she said, "Lucas?"
"Yes, Ms. Anderson, it's nothing. She said that she really liked the man and thought he was the best for her. So they married quickly. So quick that she didn't even consider telling her son."
My mother stopped calling and even texting too. I think she must be happy, now that I wasn't in the way of her happy married life. Thinking about her, all kinds of feelings pop up in my head, and I tend to think too much when something like this hits me. Tears welled in my eyes.
I just bent my head down and clasped my hands on either side of the plate. Tears filled my eyes and fell onto the plate.
I don't know why the fuck I was crying right then, but I couldn't stop myself.
I heard her say, "Are you okay, Lucas?" And that was it. Biting my lip, I controlled myself, but it wouldn't stop. All these fucking emotions. I hated myself for being sensitive.
I don’t know when she came towards me, but I felt her hand on my shoulder, and she said, "Lucas, what happened? Look at me, Lucas."
"Lucas, look at me," she said again. I looked at her, my eyes turned red, and the tears were gone.
She hugged me, my head placed against her abdomen. She patted me, saying it was okay. I hugged her, wrapping my hands around her. After a few minutes of staying like that, she moved down and kissed me.
Yes, she kissed me on the lips, and said, "Lucas, let's move to the couch. I cramped my legs earlier because of you, so I can't stand for long."
Snapping out of my reverie, I quickly stood up and led her to the couch. It was all happening so fast that I couldn't really tell what she was thinking. I even forgot about my mother and stared at her, wondering what she was thinking.
Caren knew my mother. She met her a few times, but they didn't really get along, even though they grew up in the same neighborhood. After she got married, she moved to an estate on the east side of the city. Caren was now divorced and got a good amount of alimony. They were really loaded. My mother never really liked me being friends with James, but James and I had a similar mindset and got along really well in the middle years.
I helped her settle on the couch and said, "Let me massage your leg. It might help relieve some pain."
Then I crouched down on the floor in front of her. I held her leg and asked, "Shall I start?"
She looked at me and said, "Yeah, you can."
Then I placed her leg on my thigh and started massaging.
While I was doing it, she said, "Whatever she said to you, you shouldn't bother anymore, Lucas. She moved on with her life, although I didn't expect her to move on this quickly. Anyway, you need to move on, Lucas, she made her choice."
I am Lucas, and I was two months from the end of my last year of high school when I lost my father in an accident. He had been a rock to me, giving me everything that I could ask for. After losing him, my whole world fell apart, though I was determined to stay strong for my mother. I love her more than a son ever could, but only I knew it and kept it buried deep inside of me. I took care of the funeral while my mother stayed holed up in the house. She was totally oblivious. She kept on drinking and smoking. I tried to speak to her, but she just dismissed my attempts.
She drank and smoked throughout the house, and I cleaned up after her mess. Sometimes I had to take her to bed when she fell asleep at the dining table or on the sofa. It broke my heart to see my mother in this state. She was once a radiant woman, full of life and energy, but now just two months after my father’s death she was merely a shell of her former self. I knew I had to stay strong for her, but it felt like I was losing my mother too. Not being able to do anything for her, I thought maybe giving her space for a few days would be better.
And with my final days of school approaching, I had my own worries—exams and all. With my best effort, I finished my exams. Only I knew that what I put in was the bare minimum, just enough to escape the hell of school. Not to brag, but I had been an exceptional student. Losing my father and my mother, who was totally unstable, sent me on a losing streak. Still, I managed to pull myself together and passed the exams in the end.
As summer began, my friends had it all planned out, full of parties, girls, and alcohol, but I wasn't interested in them as my mind was occupied with my mother.
Shortly after I graduated, surprisingly, she had started going out, all dressed up. I never really had the chance to talk to her about it, but while I was busy with my job, taking care of our house, shopping, and everything else, she took the money from my dad's insurance and began using it up. Mother had given me the login credentials for her online bank account so I could handle the household bills and stuff, and I could see the one big deposit and the many, many withdrawals. I decided to let her be. I desperately wanted her to recover and she seemed to start coming around. She drank less, showered more, helped a little around the house, and wore some new clothes. I was happy to see it.
Around the same time as Mother seemed to be recovering, one of my father's friends, Jeremy, who owns a carpentry business, offered me a job. I had done a little woodworking with Dad, and he taught me a lot plus I still had his tools. Jeremy said he’d teach me everything I needed to know about carpentry. Work was good, with a lot of jobs coming in. Jeremy and his family had been in the industry for years, and they had an excellent reputation, which brought in a lot of clients. Soon I was earning decent money.
After I started making money, I bought groceries, learned to cook, and even prepared meals for my mother and served them in her room when she was home. But even when she was, she treated the things I did as things that I should be doing as the man of the house now. She didn’t really appreciate my efforts, and when she was home, she thought I should take care of her.
One day, I had been away at a job site in the town next to ours, and after being done for the day, I returned home to find a car parked in the lawn. For sure, I knew that car didn't belong to anyone I knew, so parking my car next to that one, I walked to the door, wondering who it was.
Entering through the door, I saw my mother sitting with a man. He seemed to be a few years older than her, and she was sitting close to him. Frowning upon seeing the scene in front of me, questions crept into my mind.
Seeing my confused look, my mother held his hand and said, "Son, meet Robert, my husband, your stepfather."
"Stepfather?" My brain was not braining; it was too much for me to see my mother with another man and so close together.
Even when my father was alive, sometimes I used to get jealous seeing them cuddling in front of me, and I would just leave the room, thinking that my thoughts were wrong and disgusting. The way I felt about my mother was taboo, but I could never get over it. I tried to ignore those thoughts as much as I could. I like to think no one saw those feelings in me, but I still had them.
There was one time though. I clearly remember the talk I had with my father. I think he noticed me looking at his wife and how I gazed at her passionately, like a man does. He didn't berate me or show any anger for having feelings like that towards his wife—my mother. He just talked with me like a friend and helped me understand that it was just a phase and I would soon get over it.
But my father didn’t know that the feelings only got stronger the more I grew up with them. I just got better at hiding them.
I had much more selfish and vile thoughts after my father died, and thought now that my father wasn’t around, I could be her man. I could be with her. That's how I perceived it. But after realizing what I was thinking and remembering my father, I felt disgusted with myself. Should I be thinking like that about the man and woman who raised me? I didn't know; I had no one to talk to. It was just me and my own thoughts.
I didn't let my intrusive thoughts win. I tried my best to be there for her, got a job, took care of the bills, and maintained the house while she healed. But I didn't see this coming.
And, of course, she would be looking for another man. But my father passed away just four months ago. How could she move on so quickly? They seemed like a charming couple who were deeply devoted to each other.
"What did you say?" I could barely hear my voice.
My mother, still holding his hands, said, "We got married. We met last month and hit it right off. I hope you can understand and be happy for us."
I think something happened to my brain as her words seemed to slow down and my mind was racing with a mix of emotions. It might sound like I’m exaggerating, but that was how I felt at the moment. I thought she was just trying to relax, getting dressed up and going out all those times, maybe meeting her old friends again.
Yeah, I was an idiot, not to put two and two together—dressing up, going out, spending money. My love for her had blinded me. I mean, it had been hard for me, when my father was around, to ignore my thoughts, but if my father was the one who had been with her, I could handle it. But not another man.
And how could she marry without even saying anything to me? Did she even consider me? Before I blew up at her, I asked, trying to suppress my tone, "Answer me, Mom? Did you hook up with this man right after my father's funeral?"
Her expression was all wide-eyed innocence and she said, "Well, it happened when I was out with my friends. He seemed really nice, and he was such a gentleman. I thought it would be a mistake if I missed him, so we started seeing each other, and he proposed."
Man! She was talking so much that I was gonna blow up, but I asked, straining my voice, "Did you not think of me, to ask me before you decided to marry him? Or you thought I was also dead, like my father?"
"Lucas!" she shouted as she got up.
"Yes, Mom?"
Then there was that invisible man, whom I had been trying to ignore from the moment I entered the house. He interrupted and said, "Son, try to listen to your mother and see what she has to say."
My eyes turned to him, and I said, in a quiet, menacing voice, "I am not your son, and it would be better for you to keep your mouth shut."
"Lucas!"
I looked back at her as her hand slapped my cheek. She slapped me on the left cheek, in front of that man, who was now looking smug. What the fuck!
"Don't you dare talk to my husband like that!"
"DAMN IT, MOM, what the hell happened to you? Husband? What about my father?"
"He is dead."
"How can you say it like that?" I don't know if I was making any sense, but the way she was dismissing my father felt really wrong. He had given us everything—this house, the insurance money. Everything we had now was thanks to the man, her dead husband, my father.
"Lucas, I have needs, and I also desire the affection and touch of a man. I can't stay like this forever."
"What about me then? Didn't you feel like asking me?"
"Lucas, it's my life, and I get to decide what to do with it. I don't need your permission."
Whoa! Who was this woman? I know she looked like the woman I loved, but she sure didn’t sound like her. She was getting defensive now, using her needs to defend ignoring mine.
"So, you want to do whatever you like and live your life as you see fit?"
She stayed silent. I didn't understand why she was so angry with me. Was I not her son? Wouldn't she at least ask me if I wanted another man in the house? After all, she knew exactly how much I loved my father, even if she didn’t know how I loved her. Okay, so over the past few years, we hadn’t really seen eye-to-eye on things, and we didn’t really talk to each other. Seeing what she was doing now, it felt like she was doing this with the purpose of hurting me.
I was angry—so angry I could break everything in front of me.
Then she said, "Robert will live here with us from now on, so I expect you to behave properly and show respect to him, as he is now your stepfather."
"Stepfather. Fuck off!"
"Even if you don't like it, it's the truth. You have to learn to accept it."
"So he is all the man you need now, is it?"
"Yes!"
"Fine, then." I went to my room, packed my things, and came back down.
With the bag in my hand, I walked to the door, and then she asked me, "Where are you going? What's with the bag?"
I didn't look back and said, "I'm leaving, and you can stay with that fuckface all you want and where you want."
She came after me and shouted, "Stop there, Lucas! You can't leave. Why can't you understand me?"
"Well, it's your life, and you do as you liked. This is my life, and I'll do what I want with it."
I didn't look back and got to the car. It was a Cruze, my dad's car. I didn't want to leave it behind, so I took it with me. I drove off without looking back.
My phone rang repeatedly, and I knew it was my mother. I drove to my friend James' house and asked him if I could crash in for a few days. We had been friends since middle school, and he would never question me or ask me what happened.
James' mom was away on business, so there was only him in the house right now.
James took me to a party that night, seeing my sour mood. I went along with him because I wanted to take my mind off it.
We drank and drank until we were no longer able to move. The whole night, we just drank and danced a lot. It was refreshing to let it all out. I screamed and jumped like a maniac.
For the next whole week, James dragged me around to all the parties he was invited to. I didn't even go to work, telling Jeremy that I needed some time off. He didn't say anything, as I was always working. He even encouraged me to take as much time as I needed.
I got a message from my mother, saying to come home, but I didn't reply. As much as I wanted to go, I held myself back. She made it clear that it was her life, so why bother calling me now. She should live her life.
On the morning of the last day of the weekend, I woke up to noise, and then I felt like someone was calling my name.
Groggy from the previous night's alcohol, I slowly opened my eyes to see a beautiful woman. My vision was still blurry, and I couldn't really tell who she was. In my foggy state, I thought she was some girl I had hooked up with last night.
Acting on impulse, I pulled her down onto the bed, then wrapped my hands around her. After working for a couple of months in the field, which involved pretty heavy work, and I also worked out to build up my six-foot physique. Burying my face in the back of her neck, she smelled really nice, and it only aroused me more. My morning boner poked right into her ass. She was saying something, but I wasn't in the mood to listen to her. She tried to wiggle under my arms, but she couldn't get herself out of my grip. As she struggled more, my hard cock rubbed on her ass more, and that's when I heard her moan.
My hands began to roam, and my lips brushed against her skin. Her soft skin and the smell were intoxicating. Man! How could I forget such a girl. Did we make out last night? Damn, why does alcohol make me forget?
I wrapped my right leg over her right leg, straining to hold her down, and my right hand moved to her breasts. They were really large. I kneaded them to my heart's content, and the moans became louder, and she moaned out loud, "Lucas!"
Suddenly, I was shaken by this voice. No, she wasn't a girl. I opened my eyes to see the familiar blonde-haired woman. She was Ms. Anderson. I fell back onto the floor, completely shocked. It was James' mother. I just molested my best friend's mother. It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured on me. I just stayed on the floor with my jaw floored and my eyes wide open.
What. The. Fuck!
She looked at me with a serious expression, her face flushed with bright red cheeks. She was a really gorgeous woman with porcelain skin and blonde hair, like some Greek goddess. If I were to compare her, she might be Kelly Lynch. But her breasts were bigger, and she had very thick thighs.
Fuck! I was getting horny again. After my mother, she was the second woman I had a crush on ever since I was young. She always treated me with such kindness and love, just like James.
"I'm…I'm sorry, Ms. Anderson. I didn't know. I…I thought you were some girl from last night."
I apologized again and again, but she stared down at me. I looked down and noticed that I was stark naked, and my nine-inch little brother stood like a scout at attention. Not to brag, but I had well-developed muscles from years of working out and running and, like I said, work demands. Then I pulled the sheet and covered myself, apologizing again.
Her hair was a little roughed up, and her robe rose up to her waist, showing her lacy panties.
"I'm sor-" She got up and placed her finger on my lips and said, "Shhhhh, that's okay. It was my mistake too."
Her mistake? I didn't understand.
She adjusted her robe and said, "Now get up and dress yourself."
Then she walked out of the room, leaving me baffled and stunned.
My eyes never left her round ass, which swung right and left as she walked out. The satin robe could only reach up to her thighs, her calves and a little bit of her thighs were bare for my eyes to gawk at. Damn! Here we go, with my horny thoughts.
But why didn't she say anything, even though I felt her up and groped her? Heaving a sigh, I got up. I looked at the note. It was from James saying that he had left. He left early in the morning with his girlfriend. He had already said that he would go in the early morning. It seemed like he had said that he informed his mother, who came in last night, about my stay here.
I wore my shorts and a tee and went downstairs. Caren Anderson was in the kitchen.
She noticed me coming down the stairs and said, "Lucas, come have breakfast with me."
They have a maid, Portia, who takes care of housework and prepares food for them, and thanks to her, we had a great week with the food. We often got her maid services when we were in the house. I was still unable to look her in the eye. I sat at the table, and Portia brought me breakfast, bacon, eggs, and orange juice.
We ate in silence. It was awkward, and I really didn't know what to say. I knew for a fact that she wasn't angry, and her expression while leaving the room was quite interesting too. It was my best friend's mother I was talking about. I knew that I shouldn't have been thinking such thoughts about her. I am an immoral bastard who thought about my mother like that. Why wouldn't I have lustful thoughts about a gorgeous woman like Caren? Even James said that if she wasn't his mother, he would have done her multiple times already. Yeah, drunk talk between buddies.
"A penny for your thoughts." I heard her voice, and I looked at her.
She was looking straight at me. For how long had she been looking at me? We were the only ones in the dining room. Portia seemed to be busy in the kitchen.
"Nothing, just something on my mind."
"So, how's the summer going so far?" she asked while eating.
My mind was completely absorbed in her and watching her movements, her lips, and her face.
"Yeah, it's okay. I have been busy with my carpentry job, so I didn't get to have time for myself, but thanks to James, last week was real fun."
"Oh, I heard your mother got married recently. I saw them, they seemed animated," she said as she looked at me.
My expression turned sore, as I replied, "Yeah, she must be. After all, he was a man she really wanted."
Seeing my bitter, angry look, she said, "Lucas?"
"Yes, Ms. Anderson, it's nothing. She said that she really liked the man and thought he was the best for her. So they married quickly. So quick that she didn't even consider telling her son."
My mother stopped calling and even texting too. I think she must be happy, now that I wasn't in the way of her happy married life. Thinking about her, all kinds of feelings pop up in my head, and I tend to think too much when something like this hits me. Tears welled in my eyes.
I just bent my head down and clasped my hands on either side of the plate. Tears filled my eyes and fell onto the plate.
I don't know why the fuck I was crying right then, but I couldn't stop myself.
I heard her say, "Are you okay, Lucas?" And that was it. Biting my lip, I controlled myself, but it wouldn't stop. All these fucking emotions. I hated myself for being sensitive.
I don’t know when she came towards me, but I felt her hand on my shoulder, and she said, "Lucas, what happened? Look at me, Lucas."
"Lucas, look at me," she said again. I looked at her, my eyes turned red, and the tears were gone.
She hugged me, my head placed against her abdomen. She patted me, saying it was okay. I hugged her, wrapping my hands around her. After a few minutes of staying like that, she moved down and kissed me.
Yes, she kissed me on the lips, and said, "Lucas, let's move to the couch. I cramped my legs earlier because of you, so I can't stand for long."
Snapping out of my reverie, I quickly stood up and led her to the couch. It was all happening so fast that I couldn't really tell what she was thinking. I even forgot about my mother and stared at her, wondering what she was thinking.
Caren knew my mother. She met her a few times, but they didn't really get along, even though they grew up in the same neighborhood. After she got married, she moved to an estate on the east side of the city. Caren was now divorced and got a good amount of alimony. They were really loaded. My mother never really liked me being friends with James, but James and I had a similar mindset and got along really well in the middle years.
I helped her settle on the couch and said, "Let me massage your leg. It might help relieve some pain."
Then I crouched down on the floor in front of her. I held her leg and asked, "Shall I start?"
She looked at me and said, "Yeah, you can."
Then I placed her leg on my thigh and started massaging.
While I was doing it, she said, "Whatever she said to you, you shouldn't bother anymore, Lucas. She moved on with her life, although I didn't expect her to move on this quickly. Anyway, you need to move on, Lucas, she made her choice."
I only nodded my head.
"It seems like you were really hurt by the incident."
Again, I chose to stay silent while continuing the massage.
"I don't want to see you being sad like that, Lucas. Tell me what I should do to make you feel happy again. Even James told me that you were really down all the time. That's why he dragged you to all those parties. He told me everything."
Caren was the fun type, always talking with us freely and never afraid to speak her mind. And she was more like a mature friend than a mother. I really liked that about her.
"I am not sad, Ms. Anderson."
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Caren?" she asked as she pouted her lips.
I looked up and saw her panties again through the little gap, as her leg was now resting on my thigh. I could feel my blood rushing between my legs as I was getting aroused again. With her barely inches away from me, I had a view that I would etch into my memories. Sitting there in her satin robe, her blonde hair tied up in a bun, and her ample bosom lifted up as she folded her arms.
"Perhaps you would like to call me mommy, then?"
"Wh-at!" Words seemed to be stuck in my throat, and my mouth dried up.
She chuckled at my reaction. "Oh, you like that. Then you can call me mommy then."
I let out a nervous laugh, saying, "You must be kidding, right, Caren?"
"No."
I laughed again, very aware of the tension in the room.
Portia seemed to be nowhere around, and the way Caren was talking was just the way she was. She always joked around with me.
"You know, Lucas, earlier in the room, you groped so much that it made me uncomfortable all over my body."
I thought she forgot about it, then I quickly said, "I'm really sorry, Caren."
"You have to take responsibility, you know."
What the fuck was she talking about? Responsibility?
She put her other leg over my shoulder and said, "You had me all riled up, and even now too, you are tempting me with those strong hands rubbing all over my legs."
Yeah, she was definitely teasing me. So I tried to push my luck.
"I will take responsibility, then." I moved my hands up further, right towards her womanhood, but I didn't touch it.
I ran my fingers around, pressing into her fleshy thighs.
“Mhhhhmmm!” she moaned and pressed her other leg on my shoulder.
My hands moved up and down, tracing her thighs.
She wiggled and shrieked under my grip when I moved almost to her pussy.
"Lucas, mmhhmm, dear, I can't, it's killing me, your hands…"
It had been a couple of years since she was divorced, and she hadn’t yet been with another man. She was always busy with her work. It seemed like the touch of a man after a long time was too much for her. Stopping my massage, I moved my hands on either side of her waist under the robe. I got hold of her panties and pulled them down. I was about to bury my face in her womanhood which looked so delicious to me.
Then she said, "Lucas, not here. We have to move to my room."
Her breath was uneven as she stared at me with such passion. She looked at me with those devouring eyes.
Not wanting to waste another second, I got up and took her in my arms.
"Hey!" she laughed.
Climbing the stairs, I swiftly moved into her room. She told me to lock the door, in case Portia came by the room. She could still hear, but I didn't have time to worry about the maid. I was already so fully aroused that I didn't care about anything. This insatiable woman, whom I had a crush on for years, was offering herself to me. So who would stop here? Certainly not me.
While I locked the door and got rid of my clothes, she undressed herself and lay on the bed, leaning against the headrest. I froze, seeing such naked beauty—nothing less than art. Words fell short to describe the scene in front of me. With one leg raised up and the other leg stretched, she gestured with her finger to come up.
I jumped on the bed and got hold of her legs. Dragging them down, I pressed my face against her crotch. She had a blonde bush above her vertical lips, which were incredibly hot and wet with her juices.
"Lucas, I can't wait any longer. Now, please," she begged as she held my head.
My hands were now holding her hips, and then I pressed my tongue right into her pussy.
“MMhhhh!” She let out a low scream, clasping my hair. "Fuck! Lucas, yes!"
As I made contact with her clit, above her folds, she breathed sharply, and her legs trembled.
"OHHH!" Ms. Anderson gasped softly.
I was overwhelmed. Never in my dreams did I think I would be doing this, and now here I was, with my face buried between Ms. Anderson's legs. I had forgotten about my house problems and decided to focus on her.
I began to lick by instinct, and it was never enough for me as I wanted to taste her entire body, caress her thighs, suck her nipples, and kiss her lips. The scent of her pussy flooded my nostrils, and it was the most erotic smell I'd ever encountered. I continued to savor the taste of her pussy and sucked her clit, tracing her folds with my tongue. I allowed my tongue to find her entrance, darting inside to taste her sex.
As I was having a good time with her, with her hands, she guided me to a better angle. I followed her lead and did as she told me, working on the clit while I brought my hand over and inserted a finger into Ms. Anderson's sex. Moving my finger, I sucked her clit, making her moan harder, and she was pulling my hair.
"Lucassss!"
She pressed my head into her pussy, and I added one more finger, fucking her sex with them. Her soft moans grew louder by the minute, and they were like fuel to my arousal as I kept working my tongue and fingers.
"Oh, that's it, just like that!" Ms. Anderson purred in a sultry voice.
I could see her face, and it was so fucking hot. Right at this moment, Ms. Anderson was not the mother of my best friend, and I didn't want to think about the consequences of being with her or about troubled taboo love towards my mother.
Her lust-filled expression contorted in a very unwholesome way, her gaze never leaving me. I never knew that she had such lust for me and in such a passionate way. It was as if no one had ever seen me before. She didn't just see me as a young boy or her son's friend. I was Ms. Anderson's paramour.
I could feel her legs twitching, which were tightly holding my head in place, and her fingers running through my hair. I could tell that she was about to cum. Realizing this, I increased my efforts and intensified the movements. No sooner had I done so than her body began to tremble and shriek as she withdrew herself, pulling me along with her. My face pressed against her pussy and my tongue buried deep inside her, but I didn't stop fingering and sucked her to the best of my ability.
Caren's breath was uneven as she breathed shallowly, in and out. She fell back onto the bed, her hands and legs loosening their grip around my head. Her chest heaved up and down as she experienced the blissful orgasm. By the look on her face, I could tell that I did my job well.
I rested my head on her thigh, looking at her pussy glistening with her juices. I could never get enough of it. I think I could have eaten it all day until my jaw dropped to the floor. She lay there, her legs still spread wide apart. It was fucking hot, seeing her naked.
She was fucking gorgeous.
As I lay on her thigh, I traced my fingers around her pussy, curling the bush with my fingers.
She chuckled, "It had been a while since I had sex, so I didn't shave."
Then I said, "No, don't shave, let it be like this. I like your blonde bush."
Her giggle made me look up, and my hands caressed her thighs as I slowly moved up. I brought my face towards her breasts, sucked her nipple, and cupped her left breast. She gasped softly while I did this, and I continued to savour the taste of her tits in my mouth. My saliva bathed her nipple as I flicked my tongue over it. She squirmed and moaned, dragging her legs upward and wrapping them around my waist. Then I pulled back and moved up, hovering over her with my face just a few inches away from her.
She looked me in the eye, and said, "I have been watching you for a while, always staring at me with those puppy eyes, and now I am gonna eat you alive."
That made me laugh. I didn't know she had noticed me looking at her, and I thought I was being discreet.
She held my face and said, "Kiss me, Lucas."
Her voice turned even more husky, and I just dropped my lips on hers and started kissing. She responded to my kiss by cupping my face, pushing her tongue into my mouth, and swirling it around mine. She was a excellent kisser. I laid on her and kissed her hungrily, even biting her lips.
"Hey! No biting," she said in between kisses.
I could feel her hand moving downward, reaching my cock. She stroked my full length and then took the balls into her hands, fondling them. Again, she moved back to the hard cock and started stroking it.
"Come on, Lucas, we’ll have time for foreplay later. Now I want your hard cock inside me," she hissed, still stroking my dick.
I moved back and said, "I was waiting for you to say that."
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