Incest/Taboo The Single Mothers Club

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story continues the romantic entanglements of The Single Mothers Club Chapter 1. While it's not entirely necessary to read the first chapter, you may enjoy this one more if you do so. To summarize, Ansel (the narrator) is a college graduate who has returned home to San Francisco for his father's funeral. There he reunites with his young step-mother, Ashley, who he never got along with before. Now he finds her entrancing, and after helping her grieve, they find themselves in bed together. Trying to distance herself, Ashley sends Ansel out to help Lupe, a young single mother in the neighborhood, one of the young moms in Ashley's walking group she calls the Single Mothers Club. After Ansel helps Lupe clean her house, she gives him a blowjob, and he eats her out. Ansel returns home to find that his step-mom has filled a calendar with other Single Moms who could use "help."

Now I hope you enjoy:

The Single Mothers Club Chapter 2

Mothers, Their Lovers, and Me

I'd never liked my step-mother. When she married my dad, I was 16, and I vowed to never speak a word to this woman half my father's age. I spent my last two years of high school hating her. I brought that hate with me to college. I'd hang up if she answered the phone. I'd tell nasty stories about her to my friends, and we'd laugh at her, at this foolish young girl who had married my geriatric dad.

But now my father was dead. And I was home, a college graduate, jobless, living with my step-mom Ashley. This was the summer when everything changed.

This was the summer I got to know the real Ashley. Her dark, sad eyes. Her pale face, like a moon shining between the curls of her thick chestnut hair. Her laugh, like the bubbles in a tall glass of champagne, causing her nose to crinkle and her eyes to water. Her thin, tapered fingers, running along my shoulders, my chest, reaching down between my legs. Her lips, full, plump from kissing, parting, taking me in, taking me deeper...

This was the summer Ashley introduced me to the Single Mothers Club. These moms, young like Ashley, beautiful like her, taught me so much. They taught me how to truly kiss a woman. They taught me how to make a woman cum with my fingers, with my tongue, with my words alone. They taught me how to open myself to love.

Ashley... when I look back on this summer, this summer of mothers, this summer in which my heart seemed to beat with the twin syllables of her name... Ashley... that summer seems like a gift to me now, a gift I did not realize the value of until it was too late...

Lying in bed, I could hear Ashley in the apartment kitchen making breakfast. I had not slept well during the night; my mind was all muddled. It seemed to me that I did not truly know the woman who was out there now, grinding coffee beans and frying bacon.

Was this the Ashley at my father's wake, sad-eyed and hungry for comfort? Or was it the Ashley of the night, the one who asked me, through tears, to hold her until she fell asleep? Was this the Ashley who had lain naked beneath her sheets after her twins, my step-siblings, had gone to their grandma's, the Ashley who had invited me in, who had slid my cock between her thighs, who had straddled me until we both came? Or was this the Ashley of last night, the woman who sent me out to fuck her friend Lupe, and collected money when I came back?

There was only one way to find out.

I put on my pajamas and a t-shirt and walked cautiously to the kitchen. Ashley stood at the stove, a cup of coffee in one hand, a spatula in the other. She poked at bacon sizzling in a pan. The kitchen island looked like the breakfast buffet at a hotel: stacks of pancakes, bowls of fruit, a plate of scrambled eggs and sausages, and cartons of orange juice and milk. Ashley was wearing the same blue button-down pajama shirt she'd had on last night, but now she wore short blue matching pajama shorts. I could only imagine she had on the same pink panties I'd spotted on her as she'd sat on the kitchen counter drinking wine.

Ashley turned, hearing my footsteps, then dropped the spatula and leapt towards me. She stopped awkwardly at arms-length and cried out, "Ansel, I am so sorry about last night!"

Ashley reached for me, but then pulled her hand back. She rubbed her arm and bit her lip, blushing and avoiding my gaze. "When I drink more than a glass of wine... well, you can't trust anything I say or do. Was I horrible to you? I hope I didn't embarrass myself."

I looked over to the kitchen counter where I'd found Ashley last night, sitting bare-legged, drinking white wine from a deep glass. She'd trapped me in her legs, told me I smelled of pussy, and suggested she would be pimping me out to her friends in the Single Mothers Club.

"Um..." I hesitated. "You were... you were having a pretty good time."

"Oh my god," Ashley almost sobbed. "I can't believe what I said to you. I'm never filthy like that, I swear!"

I'll admit, remembering Ashley in her button-down pajama shirt and pink panties, her thighs parted and her legs wrapped around my waist, was making me feel excited. I shifted, trying to not let Ashley see my cock swelling up inside my loose pajama pants.

Ashley finally looked me in the eye. "Do you forgive me?" she asked. "Can you give your step-mom a hug?"

I smiled at her, and Ashley stepped forward, wrapping her arms around me and placing her cheek on my shoulder. I could smell the herbal scent of her hair, and though I tried to subtly bend my waist away from her, I knew there was a good chance she could feel my dick pressing against her body.

Still holding me tightly, Ashley said, "I made all this breakfast for you because I felt so bad. Please eat!" She handed me a plate and pushed me towards the kitchen island.

As I loaded up my plate with pancakes, sausage, bacon, and eggs, my eyes drifted to the calendar hanging from the refrigerator door. On it were written names from the Single Mothers Club. Last night Ashley had inferred that she was sending me out to fuck all these moms.

"Ashley, do you remember what you said about the calendar?"

"Oh god," Ashley moaned. "I think I made a really bad joke. I swear I'm not trying to get you laid. I made some calls last night, and there are a lot of moms in my walking group who could use a hand straightening up, or with babysitting. Is that alright? I promise they'll pay you."

I laughed. I couldn't believe I had thought, even for a moment, that my step-mom would be acting as my pimp! "Yeah sure, I'd love to help," I told her.

Ashley sat down across the table from me and smiled. I hadn't seen Ashley this happy since... well, I wasn't sure. I'd only returned home this summer to attend my dad's funeral, and Ashley had been heartbroken. Then we'd both been caring for her twins, Kit and Kat. And in bed, when Ashley and I had fucked, she'd had her eyes closed. She'd told me I reminded her too much of my dad.

But now her smile lit up her face like the sun peeking through the fog. "Listen, I did talk with Lupe last night, and she told me what you did together."

Memories of last night were still fresh: helping Lupe clean her house, talking with her as she showered, then the amazing feelings we shared as she gave me a blowjob and I ate her out. The kiss at the door...

I felt myself blushing.

"No, no, it's okay," Ashley said, still smiling. "I'm really happy you two had each other. I don't want you to feel any pressure, but a lot of the moms in the Single Mothers Club... well, dating is really hard as a mom. And you're a really handsome young man- don't blush, it's true! If anything happens... well, I want you to know I'm just going to be happy for you."

I found it a little difficult to swallow my food, hearing this. Ashley's mouth was smiling, but her large, dark eyes looked a little sad. Could she be... jealous?

Suddenly Ashley's cell phone rang. She stood up from the table and turned her back to me, answering the phone and leaning onto the kitchen island. Ashley laughed and leaned her elbows onto the kitchen island, her long pale legs stretching out. Her small blue pajama shorts rose up, revealing her milk-white thighs and the twin curves of the bottom of her ass. Ashley had a stunning ass, toned through years of jogging the steep hills and staircases of San Francisco. I felt a sudden urge, like an electric shock running through my muscles, to stand and grab her ass, to squeeze her firms cheeks so tight I'd leave bruises, to part her thighs and tear her shorts off her body...

Suddenly I noticed Ashley had hung up and was looking over her shoulder at me. She laughed as I blushed deep red. "Enjoying the view?" she asked, her nose crinkling and her lips parting mirthfully.

Ashley walked over to the calendar, and bent over, this time theatrically, wiggling her ass in my direction. "We have another one! Lara says her Christmas lights are still up six months too late and she's willing to pay any handsome young men who can take them down. Wow, this is going to be a busy week!"

Ashley was right, it was a busy week.

I started just down the street, babysitting Olga's six-year-old daughter while she went to work. Thirty minutes into the day, Olga's cousins were at the door, dropping off their three children. Then an hour later, Olga's neighbor brought her little boy, his friend, and their pet iguana. By the time Olga returned from work, I had six kids and a lizard hanging off of me.

The next day Ashley's friend Marika asked me to help her move out some old furniture and assemble a new dresser, bookshelf, and desk in her son's room. I wound up sticking around after and playing Mario Kart with her kid, and she made us all dinner.

Over the weekend I took down Lara's Christmas Lights, drove Valerie's car to the mechanic, and removed a dead raccoon from Erin's garage.

As I returned from Erin's garbage can, I suddenly noticed that despite handling the raccoon corpse with thick gloves, I still smelled like death. I knocked on Erin's door and backed away. Erin answered the door with some money in her hand. "What are you doing back there?" she asked. "Are you scared of me?"

I laughed. "No, I just smell really, really bad. I didn't want to shock you."

"Oh no! I feel so bad, I didn't think of that. Why don't you come in and take a shower? I have some of my ex's clothes you could wear."

Erin led me inside. Her long, copper-red hair flowed down her back. I couldn't help but admire her curves. Erin had broad hips and a large bust for her height. She wore a tight green t-shirt and jeans shorts that showed off her powerful legs.

Erin showed me to the bathroom and left me a towel and a change of clothes. In the middle of my shower, there was a sudden knock at the door.

"Ansel?" Erin called. "Can you hear me?"

I said I could, but Erin still opened the bathroom door. The shower curtain was opaque, but I still felt exposed, and excited by it. The truth was, I had been fantasizing about Erin, about her large breasts in the tight green t-shirt and the freckles I could see dotting her collarbone. I'd wondered how much of her was covered in freckles, and if I would ever find out. I'd sprouted an erection, and I was suddenly scared that Erin would somehow know from the other side of the shower curtain.

"Sorry for intruding," she said. "I was just thinking you might want to stay for dinner."

"Sure!" I said. This had been happening a lot. The moms in the Single Mothers Club loved to cook me dinner. They always served me heaping portions of food.

Erin said, "That would be great. Stewart's at my ex's, and I really didn't want to eat alone tonight. You're sure Ashley won't miss you?"

"Oh, she's probably sick of me by now."

Erin laughed. "That's not what the rumors say!"

"What?"

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's just that whole hot step-mom and hot step-son thing. People watch too much porn."

"Oh yeah?"

"I'll see you when you get out," Erin said. "I hope you're hungry!"

My heart was racing. Did people know my step-mom and I had fucked? Erin had said it was just a rumor. Could Ashley have told someone? The other night when I'd been with Lupe, she'd hinted that Ashley had told her everything. I wondered, dizzyingly, what it would mean for my life if I gained the reputation as someone who fucked his step-mom.

At the same time, picturing Ashley and I as a couple made me excited. Ashley was 29, eight years older than I was... should that be so unusual? Despite being a mother of twins, she had a young spirit about her, and I could imagine folks thinking her to be my age. I had a sudden image of us at a neighborhood picnic in Golden Gate Park, eating lunch and drinking wine with friends, the two of us a couple. Ashley's hand in mine, her body leaning against my body. Nudging her dark curling hair aside with my chin so I could press my lips against her neck...

I was rock hard again. By the time I finished up my shower, dried off, and changed into the new shirt and slacks, I had barely calmed back down.

Erin had made a simple meal of pasta, salad, and garlic bread. To be honest, it was delicious. Erin had a small kitchen, but it was obvious she used every inch of it. Pans hung from the wall, spice jars were shoved into every nook and corner, and the cookbooks piled on top of the refrigerator were heavily bookmarked.

Erin proved to be wonderful company. She was an amazing storyteller, and had a hilarious anecdote about every mom in the Single Mothers Club. I nearly shot spaghetti through my nose, laughing at a story about Lara and her Christmas Lights.

As I helped Erin clean up, I saw it was already eight o'clock in the evening. I checked my phone and saw I'd missed a call and a few messages from Ashley. She'd wondered if I was going to be home for dinner, then later messaged me to not worry about it. Her final message had been sent just ten minutes before. It read 'I hope ur having fun with Erin.'

I excused myself and walked away from Erin, calling Ashley. She picked up after a few rings.

"Hey, I'm sorry I didn't call earlier," I said.

"Oh, it's fine Ansel," Ashley replied. I couldn't read her tone. "Are you having a nice evening?"

"Yeah, Erin made me dinner. I should be home soon."

"Oh, you're not staying later?"

"Huh? Um, no..."

"It's okay if you want to stay."

I looked over at Erin, who was drying dishes. She'd thrown on a baggy auburn sweater, but still wore her short jean shorts. To be honest, I wouldn't have minded staying later. But the thought of Ashley alone, so soon after the death of her husband, my father, swayed me.

"No, I'll be heading home in just a minute."

Ashley's reply surprised me. "Do you want to watch a movie tonight? I thought we could have popcorn and some drinks."

"Yeah, that sounds great. You pick the movie, I'll watch anything."

"You're such a good sport."

I smiled. "I'll see you soon, Ashley."

"I'll see you soon. I love you."

Ashley hung up.

I stood frozen. Ashley's final words echoed in my mind.

"Is everything okay?" Erin asked.

I swallowed, tried to get my composure back. "Um, yeah," I stammered. "I should get going. I think Ashley's having a tough night."

Erin looked away from me, her lips in a tight smile. "Oh, okay. I had a really nice time with you tonight."

"Me too!" I said. "I'd love to have dinner again, or maybe a drink!"

Erin still looked away from me. "Well, that might be a little tough. I have Stewart again for a while, since his father is traveling for the rest of the summer. This is kind of my last free weekend."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well.."

Erin turned towards me. She suddenly gave me a hug. I could feel her large breasts pressing against my chest. Erin kissed me on the cheek.

"You're a really sweet guy. Let's not be strangers, okay?"

I squeezed Erin back, feeling her curvy body press into mine. Was I really giving this up because Ashley was lonely? But I'd told Ashley I would be home. And something inside of me knew I was making the right choice.

"Absolutely," I said. "I'll see you around."

As I walked back to the apartment, Ashley called. I didn't even have a chance to say hello before she erupted with apologies.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry I didn't mean to say that!"

"It's okay, it's okay!"

"No, I need you to know... you just sound so much like your father on the phone. I'm still not used to him being... gone... It was just an old habit."

I felt my heart drop. I knew it was silly to feel jealous of my dead father, but some small part of me had hoped what Ashley had said was true.

Ashley continued, "I do love you, Ansel, but... as family. You're my step-son, you know? You're really important to me, and I feel like I'm just getting to know you. I just don't want you to be weirded out when I get a little crazy. Your father being gone, and you being here... I just get a little mixed-up."

"Ashley," I interrupted, "it's okay. It was a mistake. I understand. I, um, I miss him too."

"I know you two didn't get along, and I'm pretty sure you hated my guts."

"Well..." I blushed in the cold night air.

"I just..." Ashley faltered. "Lately I've felt happy for the first time in a while. And... it's because you're here. You've really helped me out. And I want you to know that. So I love you. I love you Ansel. Because you're family, and you're here for me, and that means everything."

I swallowed and took a deep breath, my heart racing. "Thanks, Ashley. I really mean it."

"Okay, anyways, I was just embarrassed that I'd said that. I'll see you soon."

It took me twenty minutes to walk home, but it could have taken me twenty years or twenty seconds. My mind swam as Ashley's words repeated in my head. She said she loved me, but as family. But we'd also fucked. Ashley had told me it was okay to sleep with the other moms in her walking group. But tonight she'd acted like a jealous girlfriend on the phone. What did Ashley want? What did I want?

By the time I got back to our apartment, Ashley had two large bowls of popcorn set out on the coffee table in front of the couch. On the TV was the DVD menu for the movie My Fair Lady. Ashley was sitting on the couch in her pajamas, her long legs curled beneath her. She sipped a from a glass of white wine as she scrolled on her phone.

As I entered she leapt up. "You're here!" she cheered. "Get into your pj's and join me. I'll open a beer for you."

I changed and settled into the couch. Ashley brought me an open beer and refilled her wine glass. Waving at the screen with the remote, she said, "I've always wanted to see this movie. It was my grandma's favorite, but I never got a chance to watch it with her."

Ashley pressed play, then grabbed her bowl of popcorn. The light from the screen flickered over her pale face. Her dark eyes were entirely enraptured by the start of the movie. As she lifted a handful of popcorn to her mouth, some dropped down the front of her button-down pajama shirt. "Whoops!" she giggled. As she fished around between her breasts, she noticed me looking. "I guess I'm a little more entertaining than the movie, huh?"

I laughed. "Sorry, I just got a little distracted."

I settled down and started watching the film. It was cute, but the plot had not aged well. I found my mind drifting half-way through. Ashley shifted beside me. She stretched out her legs- pale beneath her blue pajama shorts- and placed them in my lap.

"Is this okay?" she asked.

I nodded.

The film continued, but I was having some trouble paying attention to it. I placed my hands on Ashley's ankle. She jumped. "Ooh, cold hands!"

"Sorry!" I said, and stared rubbing Ashley's ankle, foot, and shin to rid her of goosebumps. Her skin was amazingly smooth, her calf muscle firm and shapely.

"Hey, while you're down there, I wouldn't mind a foot rub," Ashley suggested.

I started rubbing Ashley's feet, finding the tense muscles on the ball of her foot, working my fingers down her sole and between her toes. Ashley gave a quiet moan, still watching the TV. Her feet were right in my lap, her heels resting above my cock. I tried not to think about it, but my dick definitely stirred as she moaned.

"Oh god," Ashley suddenly sighed, "this movie is so boring. But I feel like I need to finish it. I'm going to fall asleep if we don't talk. How was your week?"

I told Ashley about the work I'd done for the moms in her Single Mothers Club. Ashley listened, but kept watching the movie. She reached over to refill her wine glass, and took a deep sip. When I finished describing ridding Erin's garage of the dead raccoon, she put her wine glass back on the coffee table.

"So," she asked, "you and Erin, huh?"

"What?"

"You stayed for dinner and didn't call me. Was this another Lupe situation?"

I felt myself blush. "Um, no, we just had dinner. She's nice."

"Oooh, nice, huh?" Ashley teased. "Come on, she's a total hotty. She's got huge tits and a skinny waist, isn't that every guy's dream?"

I laughed, a little embarrassed. "I guess. She is very, um, pretty. And she's got a really nice sense of humor."

Ashley scoffed. "Every guy says they're attracted to a girl's sense of humor. But I think that's just a code for a girl who's willing to swallow."

"What?" I nearly spit out a sip of beer.

"Hey, let's play a game," Ashley suddenly suggested. "I want to know more about you. Let's play Hot or Cold. I'm going to say something I think is true about you, and tell me how close I am to being right. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," I said. Honestly, anything to get away from Ashley teasing me about Erin!

"Okay..." Ashley paused for a bit. Her eyes were still on the TV. "You like... those intellectual artsy indie movies."

"Hot," I admitted.

"Yeah, you're a total college boy! Your dad couldn't stand them, it was all action or horror for him. Your turn."

I thought for a bit. "You can't stand cold weather."

"Cold!" Ashley scoffed. "I love the cold because I get to break out my favorite sweaters. It's also the best snuggle weather. Hm... you always order the weirdest sushi you can find at a Japanese Restaurant."

"Warm," I replied. "I honestly get embarrassed ordering anything too weird, like I'm just a typical white guy trying to seem cool."

"You need to take more risks," Ashley said.

"My turn. Um... you really like white wine."

"Hot, hot, hot," Ashley said, taking another big gulp from her glass. "But that's cheating, you already knew that. Remember what I said about taking risks? Let me show you how it's done. Let's see... you like... to cum on a girl's tits."

"Oh my god!"

"What? Tell me how close I am!"

My cock immediately swelled in my pajama bottoms against the weight of Ashley's feet. I noticed her heels stir a bit, as if feeling for me.

"Okay, um..." I took a deep breath. "Hot, yeah. I think that's really sexy."

"I knew it!" Ashley crowed. "Okay, you need to ask me a sexy one now. Come on, take a risk."

I tried to think of a sexy suggestion that would still be safe. "You like... to get spanked."

Ashley, with her eyes still on the screen, asked, "You think I'm a sicko like that?"

"Oh god," I immediately backtracked, "I didn't mean-"

"Relax you perv, I'm just joking! You actually got me right on target. Hot. I love getting spanked by the right guy."

My heart was pounding in my chest.

"Let's see," Ashley took another sip of wine. "You like... anal sex."

"Cold. Well, maybe warm. I've never tried it."

"You've never tried anal? What did you do for four years in college? Oh buddy, you are missing out!"

I had a sudden image of Ashley's ass, her cheeks spread, in front of my engorged cock. I was getting seriously hard now, and I knew Ashley could feel it. Her feet were gently grinding down against my growing erection.

"Your turn," she reminded me.

"Okay, um... you like to get your hair pulled."

"Like at the grocery store?" Ashley teased.

"No, I mean... you like to get your hair pulled during sex."

"Hot again. You're good at this."

Now Ashley's feet were moving back and forth along the length of my cock. Her eyes were still locked onto the TV, but I saw her chest moving quickly with her breathing, her breasts standing out against the flimsy fabric of her pajama shirt.

"Hm..." Ashley bit her lip, thinking. "You like fucking older women."

"Hot," I admitted, a little too quickly. I saw Ashley smile.

"You like getting your..." I hesitated. The idea that had popped into my head suddenly seemed too impulsive.

"Go on," Ashley said.

"You like getting your... well, you like it when a guy... um... fucks your mouth..." I felt my gut drop even as my dick swelled up even more.

"Hm..." Ashley thought. She raised her fingers to her mouth and slipped one between her lips. "Hot. Very, very hot. I love it when a guy takes control like that, feeling myself being used for his pleasure. Good one, Ansel."

She lifted her feet from my crotch, and immediately my dick sprang up, tenting the soft fabric of my pajama pants.

"You should take that out," Ashley said quietly, still not looking in my direction. "It's okay if you want to touch yourself. I'd like it if you did that."

I unbuttoned my pajama bottoms and freed my erection. Precum beaded at the head of my cock, rolling down the shaft. Ashley still had her eyes on the TV.

"You..." she said, her own hand trailing down her stomach and beneath the hem of her pajama shorts. "You... like to fuck outside of the bedroom."

"Um, yeah..." I muttered, stroking my cock slowly.

"That's not how you're supposed to answer. Try again. You like to fuck... in the kitchen." Ashley moved her hand beneath her shorts, and with her other hand started squeezing and pinching her breasts through her shirt.

I remembered Ashley bent over the kitchen island, her pajama shorts riding up her thighs, the round bottoms of her ass cheeks exposed. I imagined myself tearing away her shorts and panties, thrusting myself deep into her warm, wet pussy.

"Hot," I said.

"You like fucking... in the bathroom," Ashley said.

I stroked my cock faster now, using the precum as lube. I couldn't keep my eyes off of Ashley as she touched herself, though her eyes were still firmly locked on the movie.

"Hot."

"You like fucking... in the living room."

"Hot," I said.

Ashley groaned, her hips grinding against the couch. Her pale face was flushed, her dark locks drifting over her eyes.

"You like fucking... on the couch," she said, her voice a little more than a whisper.

I continued to stroke myself, watching this beautiful woman beside me. I couldn't believe how sexy she was, her long toned legs, her high breasts and swan neck.

"Hot," I said. Everything in my body wanted Ashley to turn to me, to watch me, to mount me. To grind her pussy into my crotch, to take me inside her, to have her tongue in my mouth, her tits in my hands, her ass pumping, my cum deep inside her.

"Oh god," Ashley moaned. "I'm going to cum."

She bit her lips and groaned.

I kept stroking myself, my breath quick and short. "I can't hold it," I said.

"Don't," Ashley groaned. "Cum for me. Cum for me, Ansel."

I let out a deep sigh and suddenly white ropes of cum shot from my cock all over my pajama shirt and bottoms. Over and over again as I continued to stroke myself, I ejaculated, coating my hand and dick. I moaned pleasurably, my vision going dark, just the sound of myself and Ashley, the movie fading away, the world fading away, just the two of us here in the night.

I opened my eyes. Ashley was looking at me, smiling wryly. "Hot," she laughed.

"Oh my god, I made a total mess."

"Why don't you take off your clothes? I'll throw them in the wash."

I stood up carefully and took a few steps from the couch. I started to take off my pajama bottoms, lowering my underwear with them. I lifted off my shirt, wiping my hands. I let the clothes fall to my side, standing naked in front of Ashley.

Her eyes were on me, drifting from my cock- still swollen and half-erect- up to my chest and face. I waited for her to take off her clothes, to invite me in, to take my cock in her mouth or her pussy...

But suddenly I saw the light of the TV glimmering off of her wet eyes. Tears drifted down her cheeks.

"Ashley?" I asked.

"You look... you look so much like him," she sobbed.

Suddenly Ashley stood, her hands over her eyes, and ran from the living room.

I felt myself going flaccid, my naked flesh turning cold. Ashley and I had not been alone after all. My father had been here all along.

By the time I awoke in the morning, Ashley was already gone. This was her first day back at work since my father's funeral. On the kitchen island I found a plate of scrambled eggs gone cold and a note written in Ashley's hand:

'Kimberly Okinawa wants to hire you for yard work today, 1:00 pm.'

It gave an address in the Presidio and a phone number. It was 9:30 in the morning by the time I finished my cold eggs and a cup of coffee. I double-checked the calendar, and saw I had most of the morning free. I decided to go for a jog.

San Francisco is a wonderful city to jog in. The apartment I grew up in was just blocks from Golden Gate Park, and I knew a loop that took me past redwood trees, flower gardens, museums, and the nests of red-tailed hawks. Plus the park is full of beautiful young nannies walking strollers. They're always in pairs, strolling and trading rumors in Russian or Spanish or Tagalog. I can never stop myself from checking them out as I jog pass.

Half-way through my jog, I turned the corner by the De Young Museum, and saw a black-haired woman with an especially delicious ass barely concealed by tight leggings. She pushed a stroller, but was alone. I got an eye-full, then jogged past her. Suddenly I heard a wolf whistle and a voice shout out, "Ay, papi, nice butt!"

I turned and recognized the woman as Lupe. In her stroller was her "monster," her baby son, sleeping peacefully. Lupe's long black hair framed her round face and plump pink lips. She wore a loose white tank top over a sports bra that barely contained her large round breasts. She gave me a wicked smile and winked.

"Hey sexy, you staying in shape for me?"

I laughed. "It's good to see you and the monster, Lupe."

"Oh, I bet it is. Did you like the view back there?"

I blushed.

"Oh, I'm just teasing," Lupe continued. "How is Ashley doing?"

"Um..." I hesitated for a moment, thinking about her tears last night. "Good, overall. Still grieving, but slowly finding some happiness too."

"Oh yeah?" Lupe asked, giving me a glance out of the corner of her eye. "Is she finding happiness somewhere in particular?"

I wasn't sure what to say to that! "We've been... um... watching some old movies together," I finally said.

Lupe bit her lip suggestively, and my blush deepened.

"I hear you've been getting around to the other moms," she said.

"Yeah, I've been doing a lot of work at their places. Babysitting, cleaning, you know," I replied. "Later today I'm going to do some yard work at Kimberly Okinawa's. Do you know her?"

"Of course!" Lupe said. "You're lucky, she's a beautiful woman. So tall! I get jealous around her. And that husband of hers, what a jerk!"

Husband? I'd thought the woman in Ashley's walking group were all single! "What happened?" I asked.

"Oh, he's just your standard asshole who sleeps with his secretary. Dios mio!" Lupe shook her head, her loose hair shimmering over her bare brown shoulders. "Kimberly went to surprise him with lunch at his office one day, and found him already busy eating... if you know what I mean!"

I gasped in surprise. But at the same time, I remembered the night I'd shared with Lupe, on my own hands and knees, eating out her gorgeous, delicious pussy. Lupe must have seen the memory cross my eyes, because she shoved my shoulder.

"Get those dirty thoughts out of your head, papi! We're in public! You don't want to get a boner in those little shorts."

I did need to be careful, I felt myself getting excited.

Lupe continued, "Kimberly kicked him out almost a year ago. I hear he's been begging her to take him back, but she can be a stone-cold bitch when she wants to be."

Suddenly I thought of something Lupe could help me with. Recalling my conversation with Erin, I asked, "Lupe, are there rumors about me and my step-mom?"

"You and Ashley?" Lupe asked. She looked over her shoulder, then back at me. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know..." I hesitated. "Like, she's, um, got a crush on me or something."

"A crush?" Lupe howled with laughter. "Is that what you college boys call it these days?"

"I'm serious though, I don't want anyone to think badly of her. I'd rather move out."

Lupe put her small hand on my arm and looked me in the eye. "To be honest, the girls in the walking group have kind of figured out that she's lonely, you're handsome, and the kids are out of the house. Anyways, you're not really related, so who cares?"

I felt my blush return to my cheeks. "So... they know?"

Lupe shrugged. "Honestly it's just rumors and gossip. Ashley has been surprisingly secretive about it. That's unusual for her, especially after a few glasses of wine!"

I smiled at Lupe, thankful for her honesty. "I should get back to my run, I don't want to be late for Kimberly's."

Lupe winked at me again. "Stay fit, papi. I might just have you over for some more house cleaning."

Blushing fiercely, I jogged off, knowing Lupe would be watching my ass all the while.

I showed up at Kimberly Okinawa's that afternoon in ripped jeans and an old t-shirt. I'd found the t-shirt in my bedroom, a leftover from highschool, and it felt tight across my chest and shoulders.

Kimberly lived in one of the old Presidio houses, with white stucco walls and a red tile roof. The front of the house was close to the sidewalk, but behind the house I could see room for a large yard.

I knocked on the door, preparing myself for the tall, beautiful woman Lupe had described. Instead, a young woman answered. She had dark brown skin, thick hair sweeping down her neck and over her shoulders, and an amazing curvaceous body obvious beneath her babydoll t-shirt and tight jeans. She smiled openly at me, her large doe-like eyes, pixie nose, and full lips framed in a heart-shaped face.

"Hey Ansel! Long time no see!"

I must have been staring open-mouthed. I couldn't believe who was standing in front of me.

"Samantha? Sammy?"

She ran forward and gave me a tight hug, pressing her round breasts against my chest. I awkwardly wrapped my arms around her, trying to keep my hands from drifting up to her bra strap or down to her ass. I hadn't seen Samantha for years and years. She'd grown a lot. Samantha let me go, but was bouncing with excitement. Her high, firm breasts jiggled beneath her purple top.

"It's been forever!" I exclaimed. "Are you still in school?"

"I just graduated from high school. Can you believe I'm already 18? When did you last see me?"

I shook my head, trying to keep my eyes off of her body. "Maybe when you were 12? You still had braces."

"Oh, I was so awkward at that age!" Samantha giggled, her dark skin blushing. "Are you here to see Ms. Okinawa?"

"Um, yeah. She wanted me to do some yardwork."

Samantha grabbed my hand and led me inside. The house was stunningly beautiful, full of light from the large windows. Huge green leafy plants stood in expensive looking vases in each corner, and the walls were hung with abstract paintings and strange wooden masks.

As she led me to the back of the house, Samantha explained how she usually babysat while Ms. Okinawa wrote at home. Ms. Okinawa's five-year-old daughter was sleeping now, but Samantha would be sure to introduce us if she woke.

To be honest, I could not take my eyes off of Samantha's body. While I'd been in college avoiding home, she'd grown into a total vixen, her body blooming into that perfect balance of soft flesh and firm curves. Her hand in mine was warm, and I still felt the ghost of her tight embrace.

So it was with some surprise that I met an even more beautiful woman in the kitchen at the back of the house.

Kimberly Okinawa sat in a reading nook, a cushioned bench next to a huge window overlooking the green backyard. She scrolled on a tablet balanced on one knee as she leaned back propped by her arm, her other leg trailing down. She was a tall, slender woman, with jet-black hair pulled back into a messy bun. She wore a beige blouse tucked into skinny white jeans that showed off her long, slim legs. In profile, I saw her absolutely flat belly, the small rise of her breasts, a slender neck and a jawline that could cut glass. As she stood up to greet me, I realized she was an inch or two taller than I was. Her pert, pink lips smiled, but her dark eyes with long lashes assessed me coldly.

I realized I had dropped Samantha's hand, and for a few moments had totally forgotten about her. I stuttered my greeting. "Um, hi Ms. Okinawa, I'm Ansel, I'm, um, here because Ashley, um, I mean, my step-mom told me that you needed help, uh, in your yard?"

Ms. Okinawa raised a perfectly arched dark eyebrow. Her eyes drifted over my chest and shoulders.

"Hm, yes, I guess you'll do."

She walked me towards the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. Pointing with long, slender fingers, she gave me precise instructions on the work needed. I was to plant some new trees, uproot a few shrubs, and pull weeds along the edge of the walkway. Ms. Okinawa gave me directions, and only directions, asking nothing about myself, and making no effort towards small talk. Once I repeated the directions back to her correctly, she guided me out the door and closed it behind me.

I took a breath of fresh air. Seeing Samantha for the first time in years had been enough of a surprise. She had grown up just a few doors down from my own apartment. Samantha and her mom had always been heading bake sales and door-to-door fundraisers for their church, and when I was a senior in high school I'd see her around with her freshman friends. She was so innocent, that I'd taken it upon myself to give her guidance and advice. In her braces and thrift-store clothes, she'd been such an awkward kid. But now she'd grown up into a sensation.

On the other hand, Ms. Okinawa could have been a model. She could have been a computer-generated model, for how flawless she was. Standing near her was like drinking cold wine. It was like meeting royalty. As she'd talked with me, she'd stood perfectly straight, and each gesture seemed almost rehearsed, not a movement wasted. I suddenly felt a twinge of pity for her husband. Ms. Okinawa was already intimidating enough, I could not imagine how frightening she would be full of the fury of a woman scorned.

I shook my head and got to work.

A few hours later, I was covered in soil and sweat, but the yard looked great. I glanced back towards the house and saw Samantha and Ms. Okinawa standing at the sliding glass door, talking. Sammy waved eagerly, and I smiled back. Ms. Okinawa said something towards Samantha, and she vanished for a moment, but then returned and exited the house. Walking towards me, I again had the chance to admire her body, the way her breasts jiggled with each step, the sway of her hips.

Samantha handed me a cold bottle of beer, beaded with moisture, a bit of mist rising through the open top. "Ms. Okinawa said you looked thirsty."

I took a deep gulp, then another. "Thanks, Sammy!"

"You're the only one who ever called me that, you know," she replied, looking embarrassed but pleased.

"Ah, you like it," I teased.

"Come on," Sammy said, gesturing with her chin towards the house. "Ms. Okinawa said there's another beer for you inside. She's done for the day, but her daughter's still sleeping."​