Incest THE SINGLE MOTHERS CLUB

[Odin chacha]

Chapter 1: Step-Moms and Other Mothers

Growing up, I'd never noticed the moms in my neighborhood. They were formless, blurred figures passing out snacks, disembodied voices calling my friends home at sundown. They were faceless, nameless, just part of that featureless sea of adult faces that surrounded us back then.

The summer of my father's funeral, everything changed. I met a group of moms who were anything but faceless, who taught me so much about what it means to grow up and be a part of the world. They also taught me a lot about myself, about sex, about the many ways to please a lover.

When I think back to that summer, I remember the clothes; my cheap black suit at the funeral, my step-mom's black dress clinging to her curves in the chill June wind, and then a rainbow of clothing, of tight yoga pants, of bright summer dresses, of tan shoulders above a halter top, of bras unclasped, of panties soaked, of zippers unzipped, and clothing wrinkled and torn and stained.

This was the summer my father died. It was the summer I graduated from college. It was the summer I moved back home. It was the summer I first had anal sex, public sex, a threesome. It was the summer I met the Single Mothers Club.

...

I showed up to my father's funeral a mess. I was unshaven, in a wrinkly cheap black suit I'd found at a thrift store on the drive over. I'd parked too far from the cemetery and had to walk a half-mile in uncomfortable shoes, constantly checking my phone for text messages. I was at the end of an ugly break-up with Cecily, a girl I'd met during my sophomore year in college and who I'd thought I'd loved.

By the time I reached my father's grave, I could already hear the service underway. The few relatives who were there gave me dark looks. A dozen folding chairs had been set up in the grass near the plot, and the only available seat was next to my step-mother, who held her twins on her lap.

I decided to stand.

The truth is, I'd never had an easy relationship with my father. My mother died of cancer when I was in kindergarten, and I don't think my dad had ever really figured out how to raise a kid on his own. By the time I was in high school, I was effectively raising myself, cooking my own meals, and studying as hard as I could so that I could escape my hometown and go to college. My dad and I saw each other on weekends, but our lives were separate.

So I was pretty shocked when my dad remarried. Especially when I found out his fiance was a twenty-three-year-old web designer named Ashley, half my father's age, and pregnant with twins.

Those last two years of high school, I became a free babysitter, watching after my squirming little step-siblings while my father and his new bride vanished into the bedroom for "date nights." As I fed, changed, and put to bed Kit and Kat, I could hear my father and step-mom fucking like prom dates through our apartment's cheap walls.

I wouldn't say I hated Ashley, but the day I left for college was the last time I'd seen her.

And now my father was dead, and there was my step-mom, with the twins in her lap. We were in Colma, just south of San Francisco, in a vast cemetery with a view of the bay. It was June, but the horizon was covered by a wall of fog, which breathed a cold wind over the low hills.

The priest droned on, half his words stolen by the wind, and then my father's casket was lowered into the ground. The guests all stood and lined up to throw soil into the grave.

I followed Ashley, who held the hands of Kit and Kat. Ashley wore a sleek black dress and heels. Her long brown hair was pinned up under a black brimmed hat that kept the overcast sun from her face. A gust of wind seemed to push us towards the open grave. The wind pinned Ashley's dress against her as she walked ahead of me. I saw, intermittently revealed by each gust, her slim waist, round but firm ass, and long legs accentuated by her heels. Her graceful neck was pale above the dark dress, caressed by loosened curls of dark hair.

My thoughts of Ashley seemed all a jumble. When I was in high school, I had been such a jerk to her. I of course refused to call her "Mom," and when I did speak to her it was usually through monosyllabic grunts. I saw her as a parasite on my dad, as an unwanted intruder in our house.

Now, though, with he wind pressing Ashley's black dress against her body, she looked more like a woman to me. I felt my heart stirring as her dress caught onto one firm cheek of her ass. For a moment, I imagined closing in behind her, and kissing the spot of bare pale flesh at the back of her neck. I shook my head.

Ashley was 29 now, and a young widow. I felt my resentments softening as I thought about her life alone with the twins. I knew such loneliness.

As I threw a handful of soil onto my father's casket, I made the old man a promise. This summer I would make sure Ashley was taken care of.

We returned to the flat in San Francisco for the reception. By then, the fog had thickened, and the weak sunlight through the sheets of mist cast a dim, gloomy pall on the plates of snacks and plastic cups of wine.

There were only ten or so people at the apartment. My father had never been a popular man. They were huddled in groups of two or three, talking in low voices.

A few minutes in, Ashley approached me. Kit and Kat trailed behind her, Kit holding onto the hem of Ashley's dress. I tried not to think of the curves I had seen revealed beneath the black fabric. Ashley gave me a wary look, then closed in for a tight hug.

"It's good to see you, Ansel. It's been so long," she said, her lips near my ear.

Ashley was a good head shorter than me, but I'd never really noticed it. Thinking of her as my step-mom had granted her fictional height in my mind. Now as I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her back, I could feel her breasts pressed against me. Her hair, now let down into looping curls around her neck and shoulders, smelled of soil and berries.

I let go, a little hesitantly. This was the closest I'd come to a woman since my breakup with Cecily. I felt a little shaky from her smell, how close she was standing. She had to tilt her head back a bit to look into my eyes, and I noticed that Kit's hold of her dress had pulled it down a little, revealing some cleavage. Her breasts were round and pale, scattered with freckles. I tried not to look.

"Can you help me with something?" Ashley asked, her deep brown eyes searching mine. I took a breath and nodded.

Ashley passed Kit's hand over to mine. "Can you watch the twins? I need to talk with the guests."

I laughed. "Sure, I'm used to it."

Ashley paused for a moment, taking in my reply. I could tell she wasn't sure if I was being genuine or sarcastic. But my smile reassured her, and she smiled back. Her eyes were tired, the skin dark and puffy, but when she smiled it was as if the sun had broken through the fog. Ashley had a long, oval face below her thick locks of dark brown hair; her lips were full and when she smiled a dimple appeared on her left cheek. She had what I would call soulful eyes, darker than most, which would suddenly catch the light and reveal flecks of gold.

"Thank you, Ansel. Again, I'm so glad you're here."

Ashley left her hand on my arm for a long moment, keeping her eyes locked with mine. Suddenly she leaned in and gave me a small kiss at the corner of my mouth. She turned and left. I could still feel the ghost of her fingers, her kiss.

'She's family,' I thought to myself. 'That's why she's being so nice to you.'

But was that it?

I had grown a lot in college. I was now a little over six feet tall, and the last few years of biking, swimming, and the free campus gym had packed a healthy amount of muscle onto my frame. I knew what a family smile looked like, and I also knew how a woman looked when she was interested. I'd seen that look on Cecily when we first met, and Cecily had accused many other girls of foisting that look upon me during our rocky relationship.

Ashley's long, searching gaze had bordered on the familial and flirtatious.

I felt my heart pounding. I shook my head, and looked down at the twins. "Do you want to draw some pictures?"

...

The twins, now six, didn't last long. By dinner they were asleep in their tiny beds.

I spent the rest of the evening chatting with the few remaining guests, then cleaning up. I kept an eye out for Ashley. I saw her smiling at the guests, listening attentively to their long-winded stories about my father. But when the guests walked away, I saw that smile fall. I saw exhaustion and sadness cloud her features.

I could still feel the warmth of Ashley's touch on my arm, the kiss at the corner of my lips. I tried to put it out of my mind, and instead focused on wrapping up the food, recycling the plastic cups, sweeping up crumbs.

Once all the guests left, Ashley and I sat on the couch, picking at leftovers and drinking lukewarm wine.

Ashley was leaning against me, her head on my shoulder. Idly, her fingers traced down my forearm and found my hand. As she put her fingers through mine, she sighed. "Oh Ansel, what am I going to do? My mom is coming to take the twins for a while, but she won't be here for another week. I'm expected back at work, and your father was the one to watch the kids until summer camp starts."

The smell of Ashley was in my nose. There was the saltiness of her exhaustion, her tears, followed by the berry scent of her shampoo, and a deeper muskiness that smelled like sheets after a long night's sleep.

"I could stick around a while," I said. "I can watch the twins while you're at work."

Ashley stifled a sob. "God, that would be so helpful," she said. She tightened her grip on my hand. I looked down at her, and she lifted her chin. Our faces were close, and her dark brown eyes searched out my own. "Your father would be so proud of you."

I smiled, suddenly reminded that my father was dead, and his widow was pressed up next to me.

"Why don't you go to bed," I suggested, "and I'll finish cleaning up."

Ashley bit her lower lip, and placed her other pale hand on my cheek. "I really appreciate this, Ansel."

She stood and walked down the hall. I sat on the couch a while, waiting for my erection to subside.

...

I finished cleaning the apartment. My old room had been turned into a guest room, but I found clean sheets and blankets in the closet and made up the bed. I propped up the pillow and for a while sat there, scrolling my dating apps to see if I recognized anyone back in San Francisco.

I heard a noise coming from Ashley's room. I turned off my phone, realizing Ashley was sobbing.

I stood, shirtless in PJ bottoms, and walked to her bedroom door. The sobbing was louder now. I knocked gently. "Ashley, are you okay?"

"Ansel," came the choked reply.

I opened the door. Ashley lay on her side, the sheets bunched in her arms, crying into her hands. She wore a long blue pajama top with little white buttons. One of her white, pale legs was exposed, wrapped around the bunched blankets.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I miss him so much," she sobbed. "Ansel, will you just hold me for a while?"

I took a deep breath and crawled into the bed. Ashley's back was turned to me, so I eased myself against her, then looped my arm around, being careful to find a safe space between her breasts and thighs.

She held onto my arm, tight, and continued to cry. I could feel her back spasming against my chest. I just laid there, holding this beautiful woman, letting her cry for my lost father.

I awoke early, with the birds chirping outside the window. I hadn't moved all night. My arms were wrapped around my step-mom, my nose buried in her hair. I took a deep breath in.

Ashley murmured in her sleep and adjusted her body, pressing against me. I felt her ass press into my crotch, and I suddenly realized I'd woken with a full hard-on.

"Mmm..." Ashley sighed, wiggling her hips against me. Her pajama top had ridden up in the night, and she had kicked the tangled sheets to the bottom of the bed. I could see a pair of white panties and her flat belly. She continued to move her ass against my erection, which now seemed to throb with every beat of my heart.

I held my breath, and raised my head to look at her face. Ashley was still asleep, breathing deeply. And yet some subconscious part of her mind was awake, responding to what she felt pressed against her back. She smiled in her sleep and arched her back, pressing her ass cheeks even harder into me. She reached up, and her hand traced along the back of my neck and gripped my hair. Before I could move, her other hand gripped mine and started raising it towards her tits. My fingers started to move over the firm underside of her breast. Ashley moaned again.

My mind cast wildly for a way out of this. If I woke her, Ashley would think I was purposefully groping her. But if I let her continue her subconscious moves, I might as well be taking advantage of her!

Ashley continued to shift her ass against my hard cock. I started to have flashbacks to all the mornings Cecily and I had fucked, starting half-asleep just like this. I remembered being barely awake, and Cecily sliding my cock into her wet pussy. I remembered thrusting drowsily against her while massaging her breasts, pinching her nipples, cumming hard, then falling asleep again, still inside her.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I started to pull myself away from Ashley. Though her grip on my neck and hand momentarily tightened, I was able to gently free myself. She stirred, took anther deep breath, then quieted.

I eased myself off the bed. My cock pressed out against my pajamas, straining to be free. I tiptoed from Ashley's room and back to my own.

I laid down on my own bed, trying to catch my breath. What had just happened was so wrong- my own step-mom grinding against my erection, my hands on her breasts- and yet... Ashley, after all, wasn't that much older than me. If she weren't my step-mom...

I tried to relax. I tried to urge my erection down. But it stayed there, hard as a rock. Finally, I couldn't help it. My mind filled with images of what had just happened, what could have happened, I pulled my cock from my pajamas and started stroking. Almost instantaneously, I came, barely pulling a wad of tissues to my swollen head in time.

...

I found Ashley in the kitchen, scrambling eggs for the twins. She gave me a wry, unreadable smile. "Hey sleepy, want some breakfast?"

"You need to sit near me!" said Kit, motioning to a chair by his side.

"No, sit near me!" screamed Kat.

I laughed. "I'll sit between you both."

Ashely served up scrambled eggs, as well as leftover bagels from the previous day's reception. She didn't look at me, though I couldn't tell if she was actively avoiding my gaze. Did she know what had happened this morning?

My own heart leapt and charged each time Ashley came close. She was still in her blue pajama top, though now she wore lose pajama shorts below. She had left the top few buttons of her shirt open, and when she bent down to scrape eggs onto the twins' plates, I could see her breasts free beneath the soft fabric. Suddenly I noticed Ashley was looking right into my eyes. I felt my face blush. Ashley gave me a wry smile, then turned and continued making breakfast.

"Kit, Kat," she said, "your big brother Ansel is going to stick around this whole week."

"Yay!" the twins screamed.

Kit leapt from his chair and landed in my lap. Kat started pulling at my arm. "Let's go play! Let's go play!"

Ashley laughed. "Eat your breakfast, little ones. Then Ansel can start earning his keep!"

...

The next week was a blur of mac n cheese, nap times, tea parties, and stuffed animals. Ashley returned to work during the day. She had used most of her paid leave caring for my dad before he passed. I dressed the twins, fed them, walked them to the park, and straightened up the apartment while they napped. In the evenings, Ashley would return, and I'd walk over to the grocery store, then cook dinner.

It felt a lot like the old days, when the twins were first born. Only my dad was no longer around. And I saw a lot more of Ashley. She gave me some money for the grocery store, plus more for myself. And she showed gratitude in other ways. She left a hand on the back of my neck for a little longer than necessary when she passed by. When telling me a story from work, she'd grab my arm, lean in close. A few times at the dinner table, her foot drifted over to my shin, and she stroked my leg with her toes.

At the end of each night, we'd head to our rooms. I'd read, or scroll mindlessly on my phone. And then, always, I would hear her crying.

This became our nightly routine. I'd knock gently, just like the first time. I'd open the door. I'd lie down in her bed. I'd spoon her. Ashley would grab my hands and wrap my arms tight as her body shook. She would press her back, her legs, her ass into me, until we were like one body shaking with grief. When she finally fell asleep, I would retreat to my own room, and masturbate furiously, the smell of her, the feel of her, filling my mind.

Finally, at the end of the week, Ashley's mom brought over pizza, changed the twins into PJ's, then took them for an extended sleepover. Ashley stood at the window, looking down as her mom packed the sleepy twins into her van and drove away. "She's going to keep them for the summer," she said, her eyes sad and soulful. "Then when school starts they'll come back here. Of course, by then, you'll be gone too."

She turned to me and took my hand in hers. Absentmindedly, she played with my fingers. She wore gray work slacks with a loose white blouse tucked in at her waist. Her hair was down, framing her pale, oval face.

I noticed the apartment was silent. The air still. Our breathing seemed synced.

"Ansel," she said.

"Yes?"

"I'm..." she bit her lower lip, and seemed unable to meet my eyes. "I'm pretty tired... you know, worn out from work. I'm going to take a shower and head to bed early."

"Oh, okay."

She hesitated a moment, then leaned in and kissed me just where she had the first time, at the corner of my mouth. This time, though, she stayed there, her lips pressed against me, her breath soft against my cheek.

Then she broke off, blushing. She turned and left the living room.

From the couch, I heard the shower go on, turn off. I heard the bathroom door open, her bedroom door open, and close. I had my phone on, but I wasn't really looking at it. I was just waiting. Barely breathing.

Then I heard her.

"Ansel?" she called out, quietly.

I walked, quietly, to her door. I heard her again. "Ansel?"

"Yes?"

"Can you... can you hold me again?"

I opened the door. Ashley lay in bed, the sheets pulled up to her neck. Her face was very pale in the dark bedroom.

"I'm still in my clothes," I said.

"That's okay. You can take them off and get into bed with me."

I took a deep breath, realizing that my dick was swollen and almost erect. I turned from her and took off my shirt, my pants. I tried to keep my back to her so she wouldn't see my cock pressing against my boxers. I sat at the edge of the bed, then slid beneath the covers.

"Come here," Ashley said.

Her back was to me as well, just like it had been each night. As I moved towards her, lifting the sheets slightly, I saw her body. She wasn't wearing her pajamas. She wasn't wearing anything at all. Her back was long and pale and beautiful. I could see the curve of her spine, the lift of her ribs. Her smooth, freckled shoulders. The gentle crest of her breast.

"Come here," she said again.

"Are you sure?"

"Just... just hold me. Like you have every night. I want to feel you against me. I need to not be alone."

I eased myself against her, feeling the cool skin of her back against my chest, her long smooth legs against my own. I felt her beautiful ass settle against my crotch.

 

[Odin chacha]

"Mm, that feels nice," she murmured.

Again, our breathing seems to sync. Ashley held my hand against the smooth skin of her belly. Just as I had every other night, I breathed in the smell of her dark, curling hair. But I couldn't stop thinking of her body beneath the sheets. That glimpse of her breast. Her bare ass. As much as I tried to fight it, my cock continued to swell, and soon my erection started to rise, tracing a path against her ass like a matchstick being lit.

I expected Ashley to kick me out of bed. I expected her to call me a pervert, to accuse me of having an Oedipal Complex.

Instead, she moaned. Ashley pressed her ass back into my crotch, rubbing it against my cock. I felt my erection settling between her ass cheeks. She started to gyrate, slowly, her body and my own sandwiching my dick.

I stuttered, "Ashley, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Shhh," she whispered. "It's okay. You know, I wasn't quite as asleep as you thought this week."

I felt myself blushing furiously. "I wasn't trying to-"

"It's okay, Ansel. I liked it. It made me feel... wanted again. You know, your father and I... he'd been sick for a while, and he was getting older... It's, well, it's been a while since I've felt something like this."

"Oh."

"You've been so good to me this week. So good to the twins. Let's just relax together. It's okay to feel good."

Ashley continued to gyrate her hips, her ass against me. She raised my hand across her belly and ribs, up to her firm round breast. She cupped my hand against it. It was warm, soft. Her nipple was engorged, hard against my fingers. Her hand pressed against mine, massaging the flesh.

"You remind me so much of your dad," she said. "He could do anything. I loved him, I really did."

I heard Ashley's breath quicken. Suddenly she was crying again, a quiet cry.

"Ansel, I want you. I want you to fuck me. I need it. I need to feel something inside me. But I... I can't look at your face. You are too much like him. So whatever you do, don't let me see you."

I felt her ragged breath through her back and the skin and bones of my own chest, as if I were the one crying. "Are you sure, Ashley?"

She reached back with her hand, slid it between our bodies and into my boxers. She found my cock, swollen huge and hard. Her fingers slipped around the head of my cock, and she gently stroked it with her fingertips.

"God, yes. I need you inside me. I need to be opened up, please Ansel. I need you to fuck me until I can't think anymore."

Ashley's words lit a fire deep within me. I felt my heart beating strong, my muscles tensing. All those years of being her free babysitter. Those years of cleaning the apartment, picking the twins up from school. Those years of college when I would call home, hear Ashley pick up the phone, and hang up. All that grief, that anger suddenly transformed into lust. Ashley was here in my arms, and I could do anything I wanted to her. I had promised my dad I would take care of Ashley. If that meant fucking her mindless, I would do so.

I ran my hand down Ashley's belly and between her legs. I could feel head radiating from her pussy. My fingers found her soaking wet. Her pussy lips were opened to me, and I started sliding my fingers up and down the length of her. Ashley groaned.

I dipped a finger into Ashley's pussy, feeling her pussy walls quiver at my touch. I started to slowly finger her. She bucked back against my boxers and cock. She reached up and ran a hand through my hair.

I continued to slide a single finger in and out of Ashley while I kissed the back of her neck and her shoulders. Her face was turned from me, and I left it like that, so she wouldn't see my own. I picked up the pace of my finger, enjoying hearing Ashley's quickened breath. Ashley's pussy loosened more, covered in juices. I spread her pussy lips with my fingers, then found her clit, swollen and ready. I traced little circles around it with the ball of my finger.

"Oh god!" she groaned.

I circled her clit faster, then started rubbing it harder. Ashley pushed her hips harder against me, grinding against my cock. I slid my other hand beneath Ashley's ribs and took her breast in my palm. I pinched her nipple between two fingers and rolled it, not too gently.

"Yes, yes!"

I kept rubbing Ashley's clit, squeezing her breast, pinching her nipple. Ashley started to squirm in my arms. "I'm close!" she said through clenched teeth. I slid two fingers into her pussy, fucked her to my second knuckles, then returned with wet fingers and rubbed her clit hard.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Ashley cried, her body thrashing as she came.

She stilled for a moment, then reached back and took my cock in her hand. She lowered it and slid it between her wet thighs. I felt the head of my cock rubbing against her hot, wet pussy lips. Ashley started rocking her hips, moving her pussy over the top of my cock. Suddenly the head of my cock slipped between her lips and entered her pussy. Ashley shuddered in pleasure.

I paused there, enjoying the heat on the head of my dick. Then I started thrusting, very small thrusts, just an inch or so in and out, never letting the head of my cock go too deep or exit Ashley's pussy. She moaned, trying to press against me, trying to force more in. I reached up with one hand and held onto the back of Ashley's neck for better leverage. I kept slowly sliding a little more cock into her, just a little at a time, rocking back and forth.

Ashley reached back and grabbed my hips with her hands, trying to pull me deeper. She made noises beyond speech, deep grunting breaths. But I held back. Just a little at a time, I entered her.

I knew this would drive her crazy. It's how I'd loved to fuck Cecily. She would swear at me, scream at me, tell me to fuck her deep and hard, but I knew she loved it too. Because I could always make her come this way, teasing her with my cock, until she climaxed over and over.

With a final small thrust I slid the rest of my cock into Ashley's pussy. I stayed there for a moment, then slid almost my whole shaft out, entered her again. I started to pick up the pace. Ashley grunted, breathing heavily, still faced away from me. I kept one hand on her neck, the other on her hip. I started to thrust harder and harder, my whole dick filling her with each stroke.

I started to feel my balls tighten, so I slowed, and pulled myself out.

"More," Ashley gasped. "Please, more!"

"Get on your knees," I told her.

Ashley sat up on all fours. I could see she had her eyes closed as she faced the headboard.

I got behind Ashley. Her ass was perfect, two beautiful pale cheeks. Her pussy lips were swollen and pink between, and her asshole was like a little flower bud.

I got on my knees behind her and placed the head of my cock against her pussy lips. As I entered her, I reached over and grabbed her hair close to her scalp. I pulled her head back as I thrust forward. Ashley arched her back downwards, her breasts bouncing up and a cry of pleasure escaping from her open lips. I slammed against her ass, over and over, filling her with my cock.

Ashley reached down and started to rub her clit with her fingers. "Don't stop!" she cried out. "Don't let go!"

I kept my hand in her hair and another on her hip, pushing her against me with each thrust. I lowered Ashley's head to the mattress, admiring how her ass raised back towards me. I couldn't keep my eyes off of Ashley's body. Her slim waist, her fine back, and her small round breasts shaking with every thrust. The beautiful curve of her swan neck. Her open mouth gasping beneath tightly shut eyes.

"Oh god I'm cumming again," she cried out. "Oh god, oh god, oh god!"

Ashley suddenly collapsed to the bed, sliding off my cock. I lay down next to her, and she quickly turned away from me before she could open her eyes.

"That was amazing," she said. "I... I really needed that."

"I'm glad," I replied, breathing hard.

We lay like that for a while, just breathing, the sweat cooling on our skin. I wasn't sure if Ashley had fallen asleep. Suddenly her hand reached back, tracing my arm and chest. "Are you still awake?"

I laughed. "Yeah."

Her hand brushed downwards and found my cock. "Oh my god, are you still hard?"

I laughed again. "Yeah."

She laughed too. "I forgot what it's like to fuck someone young. Stay there, okay?"

Ashley got onto her hands and knees. I saw her eyes were still closed. She ran her hands over my body, finding my shoulders and hips. She reached down and grasped my cock in her hand.

"Mm, so hard!"

Ashley straddled my hips, leaning over my face. Her round breasts with their pink nipples swung over me. I raised my head and took one nipple in my lips, sucking hard. Ashley grabbed my cock from behind her ass and lowered the head to her pussy. She started to slide her hips down over my cock as she pressed her breasts onto my face.

I held onto Ashley's waist as I worshipped her boobs. I licked circles around her nipples, then pulled them into my mouth. I flicked my tongue over them, then opened wide and took as much of the breast in as I could.

Ashley's eyes were still closed, but she was smiling, biting her lip.

I felt myself going deeper inside her each time she lowered her hips. I raised my own hips a bit to meet her.

"Oooooh, yeah," she groaned, "keep doing that."

I grabbed Ashley's ass in firm hands and against thrust upwards as she came down. I felt my control slowly eroding with each thrust. My grip tightened.

"I think I'm going to cum," I said.

Ashley picked up her pace, sliding down faster, harder. "Tell me when," she said.

I thrust again, and again, and buried my face in her breasts. I couldn't hold it anymore.

"I'm... I'm..."

Ashley slid off of me, then pressed her whole body against mine, sandwiching my cock between us. I felt my own climax rushing up, and suddenly I shot cum between our bodies. I clamped my lips on Ashley's shoulder and moaned into her flesh as I came again and again.

Ashley's eyes were still closed. She ran her hands through my hair, then rolled off my body. My chest was covered in sweat and white streaks of cum.

"I think I need another shower," Ashley laughed. Her back still turned to me, she stood from the bed and walked out into the hall.

Suddenly Ashley turned. Her slim, beautiful body was fully exposed. In the dark, she seemed to glow. Her round breasts, her narrow waist, the dark patch of hair between her legs hiding the wet and warm pussy I'd felt before. She was covered with a sheen of sex, the same that coated my own body. Her eyes were open, bright, full of golden fire.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

...

I awoke in Ashley's bed.

I could hear her in the kitchen, the gentle clang of a pan, the sizzle of bacon, and her voice laughing and chatting on the phone.

I smiled to myself. Last night had only increased in intimacy. We had showered together, running our hands over each others' bodies in the warm, soapy water. Then, in bed, we spooned naked beneath the sheets, falling together into a deep sleep.

I made my way into the kitchen in my pajama bottoms, shirtless. Ashley winked at me, but continued with her phone conversation. I realized with a start that she was talking about me.

"Yeah, he's sticking around for the summer. He was so helpful with the twins, just a complete angel. He's very affordable, too." Ashley winked at me, then slid a plate of eggs and bacon across the kitchen island.

"Tonight? I'll ask him. I'm sure he'd be up for anything, though. See you soon, Lupe!"

Ashley brought two steaming cups of coffee over and pushed one towards me, leaning over the island. She wore a violet bathrobe that showed off her cleavage. She caught me staring at her breasts, and laughed.

"Listen, Ansel," she said, taking a sip. "Last night was... a lot of fun. I needed that. It felt really good, and I'm glad it could be with someone so... important and close to me. But..."

She looked out the window. The pale morning light made her oval face glow within the tangled curls of her dark hair.

"The truth is, it's not something we can ever do again. You're my step-son. It's... it's pretty fucked up, what we did."

I blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, no, don't apologize. I loved it. I fucking loved it. God, it felt good. But can you imagine if the twins found out about us? If our neighbors knew? I mean, we're not related by blood, but I was married to your dad for six years. My children are your step-siblings. It's just not normal."

"Do you want me to move out?"

Ashley shook her lovely head. "No, no, I don't think that's necessary. But... maybe you should spend a little time out of the apartment. Give me a little space to figure myself out. Listen, I was just talking with my friend Lupe. She's in a group of moms I walk with each week."

Ashley took out her phone and started scrolling through pictures. She turned her phone to me, and I saw a selfie crowded with beautiful women. Some pushed strollers or held swaddled babies to their chests. The women were all in their late twenties or early thirties, beautiful West Coast moms smiling and kissing towards the camera.

"We call it- it's silly, but we call it the Single Mothers Club. Not everyone is single, though now I guess I am..." Ashley stared again out the window. "But we help each other out. Anyways, Lupe's got a one-year-old. Her husband died in Afghanistan a few months ago. Really sad... She just was telling me that she can't remember the last time she took a shower, and her place is a mess. Would you be up for heading over there tonight and helping her out?"

Ashley zoomed in on one of the moms. She was Hispanic, a small young woman with a round face, long black hair, and a tight little body. She was pursing her plump, pink lips at the camera and winking.

"Wow, she looks young."

"Yeah, I think Lupe is around your age. Maybe 23? God, that's how old I was when I married your dad..."

"I'd be glad to," I said. And I meant it. If Ashley and I weren't going to sleep together tonight, then I felt it would be helpful to be out of the apartment in the evening. Especially with the twins gone, the air between us with thick with tension.

"She's willing to pay you, too," Ashley said.

"She doesn't need to do that!"

"I think you should take the money. It'll make her feel better, like she's not just using you."

I nodded. Ashley turned back to the stove, cleaning up. With her back turned, she added, "Lupe's been pretty lonely. I'd love for you to help her feel... less alone. Like you've done for me."

I felt my heart skip a beat. What did Ashley mean by that? I would have to find out tonight.

...

Later that evening, I arrived at Lupe's door dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a zipped hoodie. She lived in the Outer Sunset, a district of San Francisco with small homes set in rows a few blocks from the shore. It was cold out, foggy again.

When Lupe answered the door, I barely recognized her from the picture. She wore a baggy sweater, wrinkled and stained. Her black hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, but had loosened itself, and stuck out in wild loops in all directions. She held a screaming one-year-old against her hips. Her jeans were spattered with baby food, and her plump pink lips were pulled into an exhausted rictus.

"Oh thank God!" she gasped. "You're Ansel, right? Dios mio, get in here!"

The small house was a mess. Baby toys were scattered over the floor, dishes were piled in the sink. A vacuum cleaner had been left in the middle of the carpet, and now served as a drying rack for towels.

Lupe looked up at me. "Wow, you're tall. Ashley didn't mention that."

Lupe appeared to be barely over five feet. Like many short women, she had a small, curvy body, filling out her jeans without being fat. I could see the sexy woman of Ashley's photo beneath the tired eyes and baggy sweater.

"How can I help?" I asked.

Lupe waved with her one free hand all around her, then pointing to the boy screaming and flailing in her arm. "I'm going to try and put this little monster to bed. Can you help me straighten up?"

"You got it. I used to help my step-mom with the twins when they were this age. It can be tough."

"Step-mom, how cute," Lupe smiled at me. "Is that what you still call her?"

I wasn't too sure what to say. How much had Ashely told Lupe over the phone?

Lupe carried her son into the back of the house, and I started cleaning. It wasn't too difficult. I just started in one corner of the house, and made my way slowly across. I put away clean towels, made a laundry pile of dirty clothes, and added dirty dishes to the pile in the sink. As I filled one side of the sink with hot, soapy water, I heard Lupe singing to her son in the back.

I cleaned the dishes, dried them, put them away. I vacuumed. I straightened up the scattered mail on the coffee table, making a neat pile of important letters while recycling the junk. I honestly found it easy and comforting to do this work, knowing it was helping this young mom.

As I worked, I was watched by a photo of a man about my own age, wearing a military uniform. Next to it was a framed medal. Though he wasn't smiling in the photograph, the man's eyes looked kind.

I heard a door open, and Lupe walked back into the living room. She looked around in amazement. "Wow, papi, you really know how to clean! Ashley wasn't kidding about you."

She gave me another look, tracing her eyes from my feet to my face. She half-smiled and nodded. "Okay. Hey, can you stick around while I take a shower? If the monster wakes up, you can bring him a bottle of milk from the fridge."

"Sure thing! Take your time, I can be here all night."

"All night? Hm..." Lupe winked at me, then walked back to the bathroom. Soon I heard the sound of the shower and Lupe's soft singing.

I was about to start dusting the countertops when I heard Lupe's voice. "Ansel, can you help me with something?"

I walked to the door of the bathroom. "Yes?"

"I'm all out of soap in here. Can you get me a new bar from the bathroom closet?"

"Um, sure!" I walked in. The bathroom was small but brightly lit. It was filled with steam. The shower was enclosed behind a thick glass door, textured so I could only see Lupe's blurred form. I tried not to stare.

I found a new bar of soap in the closet, and walked sideways towards the shower door, keeping my gaze averted. "Here you go, Lupe."

She opened the door a bit. "Can you hand it to me?"

I turned just a bit, so I could see Lupe out of the corner of my eye. She stood naked in the warm blast of the shower. I could just see her large, perky breasts. On a taller woman they wouldn't be too noticeable, but on Lupe's small frame they seemed enormous. Her hips were just as full as they'd looked in her stained jeans, and there was a tangle of dark hair between her legs.

"Ay papi, are you ogling me?"

I thrust the soap in and turned away, blushing as Lupe laughed.

"I'm only teasing you! Hey, sit down a minute, I would love to talk to an adult for a change. It's been nothing but lullabies and baby talk for I don't know how long."

"Um, sure," I muttered as I took a seat on the lid of the toilet.

"So Ansel, you have a girlfriend?" Lupe asked, her voice still sharp with laughter.

"No," I replied. "Well, I did, but we just broke up."

"What? I can't imagine why someone would break up with a tall, handsome man like you! Was she cheating on you?"

I blushed. "Um, I don't think so. She, uh... she thought I was too boring."

"Boring?" Lupe seemed shocked. "You don't seem boring to me! Maybe she was just scared?"

"Scared of what?"

"I bet she wasn't ready to commit, especially to a reliable man like you. Were you her first boyfriend?"

"No, she'd dated other guys."

 

[Odin chacha]

"Was she your first girlfriend?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "I've always been pretty shy around girls, er, women."

"Well if you ask me," Lupe said, "you just seem like a nice guy who doesn't want to hurt anyone. And maybe that wasn't right for her. Anyways, now you get to fuck other women, so it can't be all that bad."

I let out a laugh.

"So," Lupe continued from inside the shower, "she was your first, huh? Tell me about it."

"About... what?"

I was trying not to look, but I could see Lupe's form inside the foggy glass. She was rubbing her body, her back arched against the water. Her breasts jutted out, balanced by her round ass.

"The first time you had sex, loco," she teased.

I stammered, "Um, well, we'd been on a few dates, and, um, she invited me back to her place, and, well, yeah."

"Oh come on! I've been cleaning diarrhea and listening to Baby Shark on repeat for the last year. I need some real adult conversation, you get me? Slow it down for me, tell me what happened."

I took a deep breath and thought back to that first night with Cecily. I was drunk with love and lust, and I couldn't believe this beautiful blonde nymph was inviting me into her room at night.

"Well, we'd gone to the movies, but we just made out the whole time."

"Just kissing?" Lupe asked.

"A little more than kissing."

"Details, papi! Details!"

"During the movie, as I kissed Cecily's neck, she undid my belt and zipper and slid her hand in my pants."

"Oooh, a handy at the movies. Did you like it?"

"Well, yeah! It was the first time I'd been touched like that."

"Did you come?"

"What?" I couldn't believe the conversation I was having with this woman. "Um, no. But it felt really good. The truth is, I felt shy and asked her to stop."

"Ay, I bet she didn't like that."

"No, I guess not. Anyways, after the movie she invited me back into her room. We were kissing more on the bed. I was... I was touching her breasts-"

I heard Lupe make a sound of pleasure. In the foggy glass, I could see her own hands rubbing soap onto her breasts. "Tell me more," she moaned.

"I... I could feel her nipples beneath her shirt. I started kissing them through the shirt, then pinching them with my fingers."

"Oh yeah? I love it when a man does that," Lupe said.

"Cecily had me lay down on the bed and she took off her shirt. It was my first time seeing her breasts, and I was... well, I was really turned on. She could see that, and she unzipped my pants and, well..."

"Go on, go on," Lupe said. Now I could see that her hands were moving down her body. She braced one hand on the foggy glass door.

"She, uh, she started giving me a blowjob."

"Mm... What did she do?"

"Um, she took me in her mouth and, uh, started stroking me with her hand, too."

"Mouth and hand? You must have a big dick, huh papi?"

"Um..." I could see Lupe's form, one hand buried between her legs. Her breath was coming quick. "I, uh, I guess. So she sucked on me for a while, then had me take off the rest of my clothes."

"You still hadn't come? Wow, you've got endurance!"

"I think I was pretty scared. Cecily took off her pants too, and got on top of me. She started to rub my, um, my dick with her, uh, her vagina."

"Was she wet?" Lupe asked, gasping a little.

"Yeah, really wet. I couldn't believe it. I asked if she wanted me to, you know, eat her out, but she said no. She just, um, just wanted to fuck."

"Mm, I bet. Keep going."

"She squatted over me and she, um, put the tip of my dick inside of her. She closed her eyes and started lowering herself, taking a little more at a time. She was touching herself too, and kind of bouncing up and down."

"Damn, that girl knew what she wanted!"

"Yeah, I just couldn't believe how beautiful she was. Soon she was, well, soon she had all of me inside of her. And she just kind of rocked back and forth, touching herself. And then, um, then she came."

Lupe groaned again, and I saw her form hunched over in the shower. "Did you come? I bet you were just so ready to come inside her."

Lupe suddenly let out a little yelp, and I saw the hand against the door relax.

"I, um, I actually didn't. I think I was still a little scared. After she climaxed, we just kind of snuggled the rest of the night."

"What a selfish girl," Lupe said. "Ansel, I liked that story. Thank you for this adult conversation." She giggled. "Now let me wrap up in here and I'll meet you in the living room for your payment."

I stood and left the warm, steamy bathroom before Lupe could see the enormous erection pushing at the front of my jeans.

...

As I sat on the couch, I looked over the work I had done in the small house. The living room, dining room, and kitchen were spotless. All the loose items that had been scattered over the floor were put away or neatly stacked. The dishes were clean, and the carpet vacuumed. The house had transformed from the mess I had walked into hours before.

Lupe suddenly walked in from the back, and she too had transformed. She had brushed her long hair into a black waterfall parted in the middle. It framed her round face with her dark eyes and plump red lips. She wore a white tanktop that barely held her breasts, and black gym shorts that showed off her brown, firm legs.

"Dios mio, Ansel, I feel like a new woman!"

"You look great," I admitted.

She smiled coyly, then looked around at the house. "Ay, you did such a great job! Everything Ashley said about you is true!"

"I was happy to help."

Lupe looked at me out of the corner of her eye. "And in the bathroom... well, I haven't really felt like that in a while. I feel like I've just been a big, stained mess lately, and you made me feel like a sexy woman again."

"Well," I said, "you are a sexy woman."

"Oh, you think so?"

I nodded, blushing.

"I have some money for you in my purse, but if I'm totally honest I think you deserve a little something extra for all you've done."

Lupe walked over to me. She leaned over and kissed me. I felt her plump lips parting mine, her tongue darting into my mouth. I reached up and grabbed her hips. She giggled.

"Ooooh, I bet you like that after our steamy talk. Sit back and relax. I want you to feel as good as I do."

Lupe got down on her knees and unbuckled my belt, then unzipped my pants. She opened up my fly, reached in, and freed my cock from my boxers. "Mm, muy grande!" she exclaimed.

My dick was already swollen, almost stiff. Lupe gently stroked it, running her thumb over a sensitive spot under the head. Immediately the head of my cock swelled up, big and red. Precum beaded at the top.

"Yummy!"

Lupe bent down and licked the drop of precum from the tip of my penis. She giggled, then took the head of my cock in between her pink lips. She moaned in pleasure, and ran her tongue around my cock head. I groaned and gripped the back of the couch.

Lupe started to slowly bob her head, taking more of my cock into her mouth. She kept her dark eyes on my face, and I saw a constant smile there. More and more of my cock vanished between her lips and she sucked me faster and faster.

She pulled off my dick and gasped. Strands of saliva were suspended between her open mouth and my cock. With one hand she continued to stroke me, using the thick spit as lube.

"Does that feel good, papi?"

I nodded. "So good."

Lupe tugged my pants further down. She freed my balls from my boxers and gently cupped them in her hand. She bent over and licked my cock from the base to the tip, returning and licking again and again. Then, she took my balls in her mouth, sucking them in and pulling gently. Meanwhile, she stroked my cock with her hand, running over the head at the top of each stroke.

"Oh my god," I groaned.

Lupe popped my balls from her mouth, then returned to the head of my cock. She swallowed even more of it, her hand gripping tight on the base. I felt the head of my cock reach the back of her throat, and she gagged, but didn't lift her head. I reached down and ran my hand through her dark silky hair. Finally, she lifted her head. Saliva coated her thick lips and small chin.

"Oh, I'm out of practice," she lamented. "I used to be able to go way deeper."

"It felt really fucking good," I said.

Lupe stroke my cock more with her hands. She started especially teasing the head, spitting thick saliva on her hand and tracing over my swollen head with her fingers. She ran a circle with the ball of her thumb just below the head.

"This used to drive my husband crazy," she said.

I nodded wordlessly. It felt incredible. She knew just the most sensitive spot to touch.

"Did your girlfriend ever do this?" Lupe asked.

"N-no," I stuttered.

"Yeah, she seemed like a selfish bitch. A real woman knows how to make a man come."

Lupe once again sucked on my balls, all while rubbing the head of my cock. I felt my hips bucking.

"Lupe, I think I'm going to-"

Lupe shot up and swallowed my cock into her mouth. She stroked the base of my cock with her hand. Her dark eyes were on mine the entire time. I couldn't hold back. I reached down and grabbed handfuls of Lupe's black hair. My hips bucked against her, almost slamming into her face, and I suddenly shot cum into her throat.

Lupe swallowed, breathing hard through her nose.

I groaned, sighing.

"Jesus!" I said.

Lupe pulled off my cock and wiped her mouth. "Mm, yum!" She stood up, leaned over, and kissed me deeply. I could taste the salty remains of my cum on her tongue.

Lupe flopped onto the couch, her breasts bouncing. She reached a hand into her gym shorts. "I am so fucking wet," she said. Her dark eyes were shining with pleasure. She crooked a finger at me. "Come here, lover boy. I want you to do to me what that bitch Cecily didn't let you do."

Lupe pulled her gym shorts down and kicked them off the couch. She wasn't wearing underwear. I saw that she had shaved in the shower, and the dark skin around her pussy was smooth and clean.

I tucked my cock into my boxers, then got down on my hands and knees on the couch. Lupe parted her legs and I lowered my face to her pussy. Her pussy lips were dark brown, darker than the skin of her beautiful thighs, but they blushed pink as I came nearer. The smell of her was all around me.

I ran my tongue from the bottom to the top of Lupe's pussy, a big puppy dog lick, and repeated it. Her taste was incredible, and she moaned in pleasure. I could see her pussy lips parting, revealing pink flesh and the bud of her clit. I licked her more, and ran my hands under her pert ass to shove her harder into my mouth.

I darted my tongue between her pussy lips, and explored there a moment, fucking her with it. I felt her juices covering my lips and chin. Lupe's clit was easy to find, a big pink knob that I immediately attacked with my tongue and lips. Lupe moaned and bucked against my face.

With one hand I slid two fingers into Lupe's pussy, continuing to lick and suck on her clit. Lupe moaned louder. My fingers were soaked, and her pussy loosened even more.

"Keep going, papi!" Lupe cried. "It feels amazing!"

I decided to take a little risk, and try something Cecily had liked. I had one hand on Lupe's ass, and I slowly inched it between her cheeks. Coyly, I touched a fingertip to her asshole.

"Oh, you naughty boy," Lupe laughed.

I kept my finger there, pressing gently against her asshole, as I continued to flick my tongue over her clit. I now had three fingers fucking her pussy. Lupe started to buck harder, down against my hand between her ass cheeks, up against my wet fingers and tongue. Suddenly she started to cry out. "Ay! Ay! Ay! Si! Si! Si!"

Lupe shook wildly and clenched my head between her thighs. Then, with a shudder, she collapsed back onto the couch.

I started to lift myself from Lupe, but she reached out and pulled me to her. My head wound up against her pillowy breasts. She squeezed me tightly with her arms and legs.

"You were worth every dollar," she sighed, happily.

We lay there for a while, enjoying each other's warmth.

...

Lupe kissed me goodnight at the door, and handed me a stack of dollar bills. She winked and said, "For everything. Give my love to Ashley."

I drove home, glowing.

It was late when I got to the apartment, but a light was on in the kitchen. Ashley sat on the counter in her blue pajama shirt, her legs bare, drinking a glass of white wine. She waved me over.

"How'd the house cleaning go?"

"Oh, uh, really well. I think I helped a lot."

I started for the fridge, but Ashley blocked me with one of her long, pale legs. She slid the other around my side, then looped her ankles behind me and dragged me close. As her thighs parted, I could see her pink panties beneath the blue fabric of her pajama shirt.

"Hm..." she said, sniffing the air. "Hey, you smell like pussy!"

I blushed a deep red.

Ashley took a long sip of wine while staring into my eyes. She swallowed, then shook the hair from her face. "Did she pay you?"

I nodded, and took out the stack of bills. Ashley grabbed it and counted. "Nicely done, step-son!" She took a few bills from the top and tucked them into the pocket of her pajama shirt, then gave the rest back to me.

Ashley's smile widened. "Lupe actually called me while you were driving back. She gave you very good reviews, said you really helped her feel... oh what were the words she used? Oh yeah, 'fucking sexy.' I'm proud of you. She really needed it. In fact..."

Ashley gestured with her wine glass towards a calendar hanging from a magnetic hook on the refrigerator door. I saw a number of days circled, with names and times written in.

"I made a few more calls," Ashley continued, "and a lot of others from my Single Mothers Club are looking for... help."

Ashley reached out a finger and wiped something from the corner of my lips. She stuck the finger in her own mouth.

"Mm... Anyways, we better get you cleaned up. Can't have you smell like pussy juice on your date tomorrow."

"I... I have a date tomorrow?"

"Oh yeah! Olga said she could really use a... full service cleaning. She said she needs a really long, hard cleaning. A real hose-down. Then on Monday, Kim... Well, I'll give you more details in the morning. You looked drained."

Ashley laughed, unlocked her ankles from behind me, and gently pushed me away.

I shook my head in amazement as I passed the full calendar. All those names, all those moms. As I said before, I had never noticed the moms in my neighborhood. But this summer, I would be getting to know them all. Their voices, their laughter, their kisses... the taste of their pussies, the feel of their lips on my dick. Their fantasies, and where they liked to be touched. How deep, how rough, how often they liked it.

This would be my summer of the Single Mothers Club.

 

[Odin chacha]

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.

 

[Odin chacha]

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."

 

[Odin chacha]

I followed Samantha back inside the house, careful to take off my dirty shoes and brush off my clothes before stepping onto the cool tiles of the kitchen. At a small table, Ms. Okinawa had set out two more sweating beers, and some expensive looking cheese and crackers.
I sat down and finished off my first beer. "Do you want one?" I asked Samantha.
She laughed. "I'm only 18, I don't drink!"
"Oh yeah," I recalled, "your mom is pretty strict, right?"
"Strict is an understatement," Samantha admitted. She started to slice up some of the softening cheese.
Suddenly I felt a presence, as if another light had been turned on in the room. Ms. Okinawa's cool, affectless voice came from behind me. "The yard looks great, Ansel," she said.
Ms. Okinawa glided to the table and sat in one of the chairs. Even sitting in a kitchen chair, she looked elegant, like a statue carved from cold white marble. She had let her hair down, and it flowed almost to the small of her back, long and lustrous like Lupe's, but with more body to it. She brushed a curl from her forehead and took a sip of beer. I saw her throat working as the cool liquid slid down.
Ms. Okinawa smiled cooly, and looked between us. "I didn't realize you two knew each other."
Samantha nodded. "Ansel helped me out a lot in high school. He was like my guardian angel."
Ms. Okinawa gave me a long look. "We need nice guys like you, Ansel. I hope you find one in the fall, Samantha."
"In the fall?" I asked Samantha.
"I'm going to college in August," she said. "UC Berkeley. I'm so excited!"
Sammy did a little dance in her chair, her soft body bouncing to a beat from inside her head.
Ms. Okinawa said, "I'm sure you'll miss your mom. Are you leaving anyone else behind? A boyfriend?"
Samantha gasped. "Oh no, Ms. Okinawa! My mom never let me date."
"Oh but come on," Ms. Okinawa teased. "Surely you've been seeing someone behind her back. I have to imagine you have a line of boys interested in you."
I saw Sammy blush and she looked away. "My mom would have found out, I'm sure of it. What she says is the law in our home."
Ms. Okinawa shook her head sadly, then turned to me. "Ansel, don't you think a young woman like Samantha needs some dating experience before she goes to college? The men there will eat her alive."
I shrugged, not sure what to say. "Sammy's a smart cookie. I think she'll figure it out."
Samantha gave me a thankful smile. I could tell the conversation had upset her. Once more, I was acting as her guardian angel.
Suddenly there was a whine and cry from down the hallway.
"Uh oh," Samantha said, standing up. "Little Leanne is awake. I'll go check on her."
Ms. Okinawa's dark eyes followed Samantha as she walked from the kitchen. Then she turned back to me. She propped her chin in an elegant hand, and gave me a strange look. "I hear you've been helping out with the other Single Mothers," she said.
I nodded. "Babysitting and cleaning, mostly."
She raised an eyebrow. "Mostly, hm?"
The corner of her mouth rose in a wry smile.
"I guess you really are a nice guy," she said.
...
I could tell Ashley wasn't home when I walked through the door. The apartment was silent, and more than that, the smell of her was absent. I felt something drop in my chest.
In the shower, my thoughts returned to Ashley. I thought of her last night, touching herself on the couch. How she told me she liked to be spanked, her hair pulled. Her beautiful mouth fucked. I felt myself getting hard. As I stroked my cock, I'm not sure who I thought of. The images in my mind were of Ashley, but also of Samantha's luscious bouncing tits, of Kimberly Okinawa's slender neck and piercing eyes. Perhaps I thought of Lupe's ass in her leggings and her long black hair blowing in the wind outside the museum. Or Erin's red locks and full legs beneath her jeans shorts. As I came, my mind was crowded with lips and tits and thighs and asses, flooded by beauty and lust.
Dried and shirtless in my towel, I saw I'd missed a call from Ashley. I immediately called her back.
"Hey Ansel," she said, "I just talked with Kimberly."
"Oh yeah?"
"She said you did a great job in the yard. I'm not surprised."
"Oh thanks!"
Ashley paused for a moment, and then I heard a bit of wickedness sneak into her voice. "She also told me you ran into Samantha."
"Yeah, Sammy was babysitting for Ms. Okinawa."
"She's turned into a little hottie, hasn't she?"
I laughed, and I knew that Ashley would be able to practically hear my cheeks blushing through the phone.
"Anyways," she continued, "Kimberly was asking if she could take you out to dinner, as a thank you for the hard work you did today."
"These moms and their dinners!" I exclaimed.
"Well, you know what they say. The way to a man's heart is-"
"Through his stomach," I finished.
"I mean, that's one way to a man's heart. I bet you could think of another way," Ashley teased.
"Are you playing Hot or Cold again?" I asked.
Ashley laughed. It was good to hear her laugh. "No, no, I don't want to get in trouble at work. Oh, speaking of work, I'm going to be staying late. There's a lot to catch up on. Before you get dressed for tonight, check out the suit I left on my bed. I pulled it out of the closet this morning, thought you might like it. Your dad wore it once or twice, and it looked sharp on him."
"Do you want me to wear it?"
"Yeah," Ashley said, "it would make me happy to think of you in it."
"Okay," I replied, "I'll check it out."
"Kimberly will be swinging by to pick you up around seven. I've got to get back to work. I..." Ashley's voice trailed off for a moment. "I hope you have fun tonight."
"Thanks Ashley," I said, ending the call.
Thinking over Ashley's final words, I wandered to her bedroom. On the bed lay a well-cut gray suit and white button-down shirt. I tried it on, and looked at myself in a full-length mirror near Ashley's bed. For a moment, my heart shuddered. I was looking at a ghost of my father, a reflection of his younger years. This must be what my father had looked like when he met my mother.
I felt him, suddenly, in this room he had shared with Ashley. In the bed where he had slept next to her. Where he had fucked her. Where I had fucked her. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing I still lusted after my dad's wife. I felt revulsion, knowing I wanted to fuck my step-mom again. I felt lust, my cock stirring, wondering when I would once more share Ashley's bed.
...
A little before seven, I heard a honk outside. I ran down the steps in my suit and my nice shoes from the funeral. Kimberly Okinawa sat in the driver's seat of a black Tesla, her thick black hair down over her shoulders and back. I saw her eyes dance over my suit, and she gave me a half-smile. "Looking good, Ansel."
I got into the passenger seat, and we set off. Ms. Okinawa told me she was taking me to one of her favorite Japanese restaurants. "I wrote them a great review once. Now they let me park in a private spot in the back. One of the many benefits of being a reporter," she laughed.
Ms. Okinawa had a beautiful laugh, like crystal clear water flowing over smooth pebbles. Sitting in the car with her, I felt a little dizzy with her beauty. She was wearing a starched white blouse with a high collar, half unbuttoned to show off her ivory sternum and a hint of her small breasts. Her long, gorgeous legs were concealed under a pleated green skirt the color and weight of seafoam.
Cars filled the street outside Ms. Okinawa's favorite restaurant, but she pulled down a tiny alley and parked in a secluded spot next to a cinderblock wall that had been painted with a mural of fish and mermaids. When we got out of the car, I was reminded how tall and elegant Ms. Okinawa was.
We entered the restaurant through the back, and Ms. Okinawa led me through the crowded tables to the hostess at the front. The whole way I could see men and women turning to stare at this statuesque beauty walking before me. I couldn't keep my eyes away from her tall, slender figure, and the thick mane of black hair cascading down her back like an ocean's waves on a moonless night.
Ms. Okinawa had made a reservation, and we were led to a small table near the window. As we sat down, Ms. Okinawa grabbed both menus and handed them to the waitress. "Omakase, and my usual, but for two," she ordered. "And sake, hot." The waitress nodded and walked off.
Ms. Okinawa turned her dark, narrow eyes towards me. I felt as if a spotlight were shining upon my seat, the rest of the restaurant fading away into the darkness.
"So," she said. "Are the rumors true?"
I gulped. "Rumors?"
"Come now, Ansel. I'm worried about Ashley. It's unusual for her to be ordering someone around like she is with you. She's usually a much more... submissive person. She's acting out of character, don't you think?"
I felt pinned, as if in a spider's web. "Um, I'm not sure. I never really got to know her well before I went to college."
Ms. Okinawa stared at me, her face almost emotionless. Only her eyes showed her interest. She had a feline beauty to her, Ms. Okinawa, and I was a mouse frozen in her gaze.
I suddenly found myself telling Ms. Okinawa all about my step-mother- that is, about my life with her before my father's death. I confessed to her the poor relationship I'd had with my dad. How I had been so distrustful of Ashley when I'd met her. She'd been 23, in a new relationship, and I hadn't made things easy. I detailed for Ms. Okinawa the two years of high school I'd spent babysitting my twin step-siblings while my dad and step-mom fucked loudly in the bedroom. I couldn't stop the flow of words, talking about college, about the awkward phone calls home, the few visits. And finally I came to the funeral. Recalling Ashley at my father's wake, her black dress contrasting with her pale arms and face, the hug and kiss she'd given me, and that night, the night I first held her in my arms... I suddenly went silent.
Ms. Okinawa's eyes narrowed. She leaned forward, and I could see more of her breastbone and the tops of her small pale breasts through the open top of her blouse. It looked like she wasn't wearing a bra, and imagining her nipples rubbing against the fabric of her blouse gave me a shock of pleasure.
"I'm a prize-winning reporter, Ansel," she said in a stern voice, "and that's because I can smell bullshit from a mile away. I'm going to ask you a question, and if you lie to me you'll be walking home. Do you understand me?"
I nodded, wondering and fearing what this goddess was about to ask.
She raised her sharp chin and looked down her thin nose at me. "Are you two fucking?"
Suddenly the waiter was there, placing a bottle of warm sake on the table, and pouring a small cup for each of us. Steam rose between us. My heart was thudding, and I picked up my cup in a shaking hand.
The waiter told us the food would be ready soon, and left. Ms. Okinawa picked up her cup, but kept the steaming sake by her lips, her eyes frozen on mine. I felt the heat of the sake starting to burn my fingertips, and knew Ms. Okinawa must be feeling the same. I also knew she wouldn't drink until I answered.
I took a deep breath. My voice seemed to be trapped in my stomach. My answer took its time crawling up my lungs, through my throat, and out my mouth.
"Yes," I said.
We drank.
As I released my cup onto the table, I added, "But just once."
Ms. Okinawa refilled our glasses and we drank again.
"Kind of," I finished.
Ms. Okinawa raised a fine dark eyebrow. "Are you two... a couple?"
I shook my head, blushing. "No, no. Just... I don't know. I think she needed comfort."
Ms. Okinawa nodded thoughtfully. She refilled the glasses again. I was starting to feel a little loopy, but I gulped the hot sake down.
"Okay, I understand," she said. "This will stay between the two of us. Don't worry. I'm very protective of my friends. And I think you and I could be good friends. Ashley told me you studied writing in college?"
I nodded and started to tell Ms. Okinawa about my studies. I had been absolutely passionate about writing for the first few years of college, but in my senior year I felt myself burning out. It became harder and harder to get the words down on paper.
Ms. Okinawa listened thoughtfully, adding her own opinions and experiences. Slowly our food arrived, a plate at a time. Ms. Okinawa told me about each dish, what she liked about it or found challenging, serving generous portions onto my plate. When we finished the first bottle of sake, she ordered another, though didn't pour herself any more. "I need to get us home safely," she laughed.
The sake and food seemed to melt Ms. Okinawa's icy demeanor. She started sharing stories from her own college years, hilarious stories about boys she lusted after, girls she experimented with, professors she still had crushes on.
"I was a bit of a slut in college," she admitted. "Does that tarnish your view of me?"
I laughed and told her that I found her honesty frankly attractive. Ms. Okinawa was a fantastic conversationalist. She asked interesting questions, gave insightful answers, and made me nearly shoot sake through my nose with laughter. She seemed to be warming up to me, too. At one points she reached out to wipe some salmon roe from my chin, then left her slender fingers here. She traced my cheek with her finger and looked me in the eye.
"I can see what Ashley sees in you," she said. "I guess I understand now why you're the hot topic of the Single Mothers Club."
I blushed, and Ms. Okinawa laughed, pulling her hand away.
Suddenly, over her shoulder, I saw a face staring our way. It was a man in his late 30's, with black hair pulled back into a short ponytail and a scrum of beard on his strong chin. Below his thick black eyebrows, his eyes were hot coals staring death in my direction. He gripped a pair of chopsticks like a dagger he wanted to plunge into my neck.
Ms. Okinawa must have seen a strange look cross my face. She turned, then sighed. Her beautiful slim shoulders slumped.
"Oh god, that's John. That's my husband," she said. She turned back to me and hurriedly added, "We're separated."
"I, uh, I heard about it."
"Oh yeah? I guess you're not the only one being gossipped about."
"He, uh, looks angry."
"Well yeah, his wife is on a date with a handsome young man. I bet he's angry. Let's see how he feels when I do this..."
Ms. Okinawa reached out, grabbed my chin, and pulled me across the table for a kiss. Her lips parted mine and her tongue writhed into my mouth. I felt electricity enter my body, I felt the restaurant shift and fall off a cliff, I felt the moon crash into the earth and I felt Ms. Okinawa's hot breath and beautiful face pressed against mine.
She released me, and I collapsed back into my chair.
Ms. Okinawa's cheeks were pink and her lips were flushed from kissing. She took out a stack of bills from her purse, placed them on the table, and stood. "Let's go," she said.
I followed Ms. Okinawa back through the restaurant to the back door. Again, the eyes of men and women were on us. This time, though, I could tell something was different. They weren't just seeing a beautiful woman and a young man. Ms. Okinawa had created something with that kiss, a dream, a story. The eyes on us could see possibility, could see lust and desire, could see my cock pressing against my slacks as it tried to burst out and plunge into Ms. Okinawa!
And I knew, the entire time, that John Okinawa was wishing death upon me. I just didn't care.
Ms. Okinawa burst out laughing as we exited. "Oh, to see the look on his face! That must have been gut-wrenching!"
I laughed too, still dizzy from the kiss. Ms. Okinawa took my hand as we crossed the small private lot to her Tesla. Before she opened the driver's side door, she pulled me into a hug.
I wasn't used to hugging taller women, but it felt amazing. Ms. Okinawa wrapped her long arms around me, and pressed me into her blouse and skirt. I held onto her waist and ran a hand up her back, feeling her trim figure.
Ms. Okinawa pulled back, but still held onto me so that our hips were pressed together. I knew she could feel my erection pushing against her skirt and what lay beneath it.
"I had a really great date," Ms. Okinawa said, smiling at me. "My first great date in a while. Thank you."
"I had a great time too."
"Let me drive you home," she said. She winked at me, and let me go.
Shakily, I crossed over to the passenger side door and got in. Ms. Okinawa was sitting in her seat, but hadn't turned on the car. The private lot was dark, barely illuminated by a street light almost a block away. Behind her I could see the painted fish swimming over the wall.
Ms. Okinawa turned towards me, her eyes narrowed over a wicked grin.
"We could start driving home," she said, "or we could make out like horny teenagers."
I didn't wait to answer. I sunk my fingers into Ms. Okinawa's thick black hair and pulled her to my mouth.
Ms. Okinawa was a strong kisser. She hungrily pressed her lips against mine and ground her tongue into my mouth. Her hands trailed through my hair and grabbed onto the back of my neck. The smell of her was in my nose, the taste of her on my tongue, and my whole body seemed to be pouring through my lips into hers.
I broke away from Ms. Okinawa's lips and kissed down her sharp jawline and slender neck, down to her collarbone in the open top of her blouse. Ms. Okinawa hurriedly started unbuttoning her white blouse, her fingers precise over the buttons. She was wearing no bra, and her small breasts, each perfectly palm-sized, were soon free. Her nipples were large and pink, standing out like twin thumbs. As Ms. Okinawa lifted her head in pleasure, I kissed my way down her breastbone towards her left breast. I licked around her areola, big wet licks coating her breast in my saliva. Then I flicked my tongue over her large nipple, teasing it. Ms. Okinawa laughed.
"Oh god that feels good," she moaned. "Suck on them. Suck on my tits."
I obliged. I sucked her large nipple between my tight lips. Meanwhile, I squeezed her right breast in my hand, pinching and rolling the nipple between my fingers. Ms. Okinawa breathed heavily, her head thrown back, her hair coiling over her bare shoulders and between her breasts.
Ms. Okinawa pulled my hand away from her breast and to her mouth. She slipped a finger between her lips and sucked on it. I switched breasts with my lips, sucking the whole breast into my mouth and working my tongue around the nipple. Ms. Okinawa moaned around my finger. She grabbed my hair and kept me at her breast. I continued to suck hard, my lips latched around her broad areola. My hands worked down her body towards her pleated green skirt. I started to work the hem up her legs, but Ms. Okinawa pulled me away.
"Wait, wait," she said. "It's your turn now. Sit back."
I sat up, then lowered the seat into a more relaxed position. My cock was pressing up against my gray slacks. Ms. Okinawa's eyes were on my crotch, a hungry look in their dark depths. With a long, pale finger, she trailed up and down the length of my erection. I gave out a shuddering sigh.
Ms. Okinawa skillfully unbuckled my belt, and unbuttoned and zipped open my pants. She pulled my cock from my boxers. It was swollen into a massive erection, the head of my cock purple and beaded with precum.
Ms. Okinawa gingerly wrapped her fingers around my shaft, then dipped the pad of her thumb into the precum. She swirled her thumb around the head of my cock until it was glistening. I felt like my cock was going to burst, it was so hard. I groaned.
Ms. Okinawa stuck the thumb in her mouth and sucked on it. "Yum," she said. She licked her fingers, then rubbed her saliva-coated hand over my dick.

 

[Odin chacha]

"God that feels good," I moaned.
"Don't cum yet," Ms. Okinawa ordered.
She started to stroke me up and down, gently squeezing her hand over the head of my cock each time, collecting more precum which she spread on the way down. With her other hand she played with her tits, massaging the flesh and pinching her large pink nipples.
Ms. Okinawa had her dark feline eyes entirely on my cock. Her pale, high cheekbones were flushed pink, and her small tits rose and fell with each quick breath. Her tongue darted over her lips hungrily, and she lowered her head towards my lap.
Suddenly there was a loud banging on the car window. Ms. Okinawa leaped up in her seat. I scrambled to pick my crumpled jacket off the car floor and cover my cock.
"You bitch! You whore!" a voice shouted from outside.
"Oh Jesus, it's John," Ms. Okinawa swore.
John Okinawa, Kimberly's husband, stood outside the car, his shoulders high and his face twisted in fury. He banged again with an open palm against the window of the driver's seat door.
"You slut! You fucking slut! Stop it! Stop it right now!" John shouted.
Ms. Okinawa held her blouse closed with one hand, and raised a middle finger towards her husband with the other.
"Fuck you, John," she said through the closed window.
John suddenly collapsed against the window, his head against his arm.
"Oh god," he moaned pathetically, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Kim. Kimmy, my Kimmy, please, please stop. Please take me back. I'm sorry, it meant nothing, I swear!"
Ms. Okinawa just stared at him. I didn't know where to put my eyes. John looked so sad, like a puppy forced out into the rain.
Ms. Okinawa asked him, "What are you even doing here?"
"I was missing you," John admitted. "This was always your favorite place. I just wanted to be somewhere important to you. And then I saw you with... with him. Isn't he a little young for you?"
"Wasn't your secretary nineteen?"
"Oh god, you're right Kim, I'm a bastard. I was weak. I'm an idiot. But please, you're breaking my heart. Please don't fuck him."
Ms. Okinawa gave out a single cold laugh.
"I'm going to," she said.
I felt my cock leap beneath the jacket.
John stared through the window in disbelief.
"I'm going to fuck him, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's going to be the best pussy he's ever had, John. I'm going to fuck him until he cums inside me, then I'm going to fuck him some more. He's going to worship me like a fucking goddess and no other pussy will ever be as good."
John groaned, closing his eyes, and then the car was silent. Finally, he looked through the window and asked in a small voice, "Can I watch?"
Ms. Okinawa unlocked the doors.
"Get in the back," she commanded. "You may not talk, and you may not touch yourself. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Kimmy."
"Sorry?" Ms. Okinawa's voice could have cut steel.
"Yes, my goddess," came John's humble correction as he opened the back door and slid inside.
My heart was thundering in my chest. Maybe it was all the sake I had drunken, or maybe it was Ms. Okinawa's commanding presence, but I suddenly knew that I would do whatever she told me to.
Ms. Okinawa turned in her seat towards me, reading me with those narrow, dark eyes. She reached out and stroked my cheek.
"Just relax," she said, "but keep your eyes open. I want you to see everything I'm about to do to you."
I nodded.
Ms. Okinawa moved my jacket aside. My dick had gone limp in all the tension between her and John. As John breathed heavily in the backseat, Ms. Okinawa lowered her beautiful face to my crotch. I wove my fingers into her long, thick black hair.
Ms. Okinawa ran her tongue up and down the shaft of my cock. She lapped at the sensitive spot right beneath the head of my dick. Immediately I felt blood rushing to my cock, and the head started to swell up. Ms. Okinawa sucked the head of my cock into her mouth. She ran her lips up and down the head, squeezing it, getting it wet with her saliva. I started to get hard again. I gathered more of Ms. Okinawa's dark curls in my hands so I could watch her face in profile. She had a hand around the base of my cock, squeezing it, and her lips stayed on my head. She started to bob her head, taking in a bit more of my cock, slowly. Meanwhile, her hand started to pump my shaft. Suddenly her fingers slipped into my boxers and Ms. Okinawa took my balls in her hand. She gently squeezed them as the rest of my cock vanished down her throat. I groaned.
Behind me, I could hear John's breathing quicken.
Ms. Okinawa kept my cock deep in her mouth for many long moments. I could see her beautiful pale throat working as she fought off her gag reflex. Finally she lifted up, gasping for air, thick strands of saliva trailing between her open mouth and my now rock-hard erection.
Ms. Okinawa started to stroke my cock, her hand moving all the way from the base over the head and back down. Her stroke was fast and firm. She raised her face to mine and kissed me deeply. My lips and chin became coated in her saliva.
Ms. Okinawa lowered her face back to my dick and gobbled it down again. As I held her hair out of the way, I could see her mouth stretched over my girth, her eyes closed in concentration. She bobbed her head, sucking me, making little grunts as I eased down her throat each time she lowered her face and slid out each time she rose. I started to thrust my hips a bit each time she lowered her head, getting my cock even deeper into her mouth.
I felt overwhelmed by lust and desire and the strangeness of the situation. I was getting a blowjob from this statuesque woman, this mother and neighbor and friend of my step-mom's. Her husband watched us from the backseat, silent and suffering. It was incredibly hot, and incredibly wrong. I loved it.
I felt myself nearing a climax. "I'm getting close," I warned Ms. Okinawa.
She immediately pulled her face away, my cock popping out of her lips. She wiped the saliva from her chin and looked me in the eye.
"You better not fucking cum until I tell you, got it?" she commanded.
"Yes, Ms. Okinawa," I said.
"Good boy," she smiled wolfishly.
Ms. Okinawa sat up in her seat. Her blouse was still unbuttoned, and breastbone and the tops of her tits were flushed red. She started to gather her pleated light green skirt up around her thighs. She wriggled, and slid black lacy panties down to her knees, then over her feet.
"I'm going to need your help with this," she said.
She got up on her bare knees on her seat, keeping her skirt up around her waist. I could just see hints of her upper thighs, but her pussy was concealed by the loose fabric. She braced herself against my window with a hand, then maneuvered herself over my lap. She drove her knees into the seat on either side of my hips. She reached down beneath her raised skirt and grabbed my hard cock. She angled it upwards and rubbed it against her hot, wet pussy lips.
Ms. Okinawa looked over my shoulder.
"Are you watching me, John?" she asked.
"Yes, my goddess."
"Don't fucking talk, John."
Ms. Okinawa sank down over my cock in one fluid motion. Her pussy was tight and hot and wonderful. I let out a loud groan and grabbed onto her hips.
Ms. Okinawa started thrusting her hips out and down, out and down, riding my cock. Though I held onto her, she was in complete control. She held onto my shoulder with one hand, the back of the seat with the other. Her small tits bounced right in front of my face, and her thick black hair was everywhere around us.
Ms. Okinawa let out a little satisfied moan each time she thrust downward, her pussy kissing my crotch. Sometimes her eyes were closed tight. Other times they bore into mine, her face completely serious, as if daring me to lose control.
I lost control.
I grabbed hard onto Ms. Okinawa's hips and started thrusting hard into her, meeting her as she came down. I must have been slamming right into her clit because Ms. Okinawa started moaning with each thrust, with each loud slap of our flesh. A blush crept over her breasts and neck.
"Oh god, Ms. Okinawa. I can't hold back," I groaned through gritted teeth.
"Cum inside me," Ms. Okinawa commanded. "Now!"
I released. I thrust once, hard, slamming Ms. Okinawa upwards, and shot what felt like a waterfall's worth of cum into her. I kept my hips raised, balancing Ms. Okinawa on my crotch, before collapsing down.
Ms. Okinawa kissed me, then looked me in the eyes. Her face was flushed, but she still wasn't smiling.
"Don't pull out yet," she said.
Ms. Okinawa leaned back and raised her skirt up above her waist. For the first time I could see her pussy. She had shaved her thick black hair into a small stripe above her pussy lips, which were stretched over the based of my cock. She reached down and got her fingers wet with the juices covering her pussy and my dick. She started to rub her clit furiously, grinding down into me with her body.
"God, you're beautiful," I said.
"Shut the fuck up," Ms. Okinawa shot back, her eyes closed, her free hand running over her neck and through her thick black hair. "Do you know what you are to me? You are just a fat cock. A piece of fucking meat. I can use you any time I want. I can just call up Ashley and say 'Send that fat cock over to my house now.' And you'll come running over, crawling over, wriggling like a worm to my door."
As she talked, Ms. Okinawa rubbed at her clit and ground her hips in a circle.
"You worship me, you sad little shit. You're a motherfucker, a real actual motherfucker. You're a sick little pervert fucking his own step-mom. I bet she treats you like a dog. I bet she says 'sit' and you sit. I bet she has you get on all fours and lick her pussy like a good little boy. You might as well be a fucking dildo. A fucking vibrator that can also do housework."
I felt myself getting hard again inside Ms. Okinawa's pussy. Her dirty talk made me feel exposed, as if she were seeing my secret self.
Suddenly Ms. Okinawa bent over, her hair cascading over my face. She let out a piercing cry as her face turned beet red and she came.
She kissed me with her mouth wide open, her tongue a wild thing against mine. She pulled a bare inch away from my mouth and whispered, "Don't stop kissing me. Don't stop kissing me until you cum again."
This time I took control. I locked my lips against Ms. Okinawa's, breathing her breath, my tongue in her mouth, and I grabbed onto her ass beneath her green skirt. I started forcing her hips up and down over my cock, thrusting my own hips to meet her. The slap of her flesh, the wet noises of our kissing, her moans and my groans filled the car. Knowing John was there, watching me fuck his wife, watching me kiss her dirty mouth, added a perverted edge.
I slammed Ms. Okinawa down over my cock, using her, as if she were just a sex toy I could masturbate with. I squeezed her ass and bit her bottom lip. I kissed her deep as if I were sucking the breath from her lungs. And I said nothing when I came, only thrust harder, my balls aching as I shot my load deep inside her.
Ms. Okinawa collapsed against me in my car seat. She was breathing heavily, her body radiating heat. I felt sweat prickling my skin. I could hardly see anything, with her thick black hair tumbling over my face. I closed my eyes.
I heard the back door open, and John left.
Ms. Okinawa and I stayed there for endless minutes. I felt my cock shrink and slide from her wet pussy.
Eventually, Ms. Okinawa tenderly kissed my neck, then maneuvered herself off of my seat and back into her own. She slid her panties back over her long, pale legs and back under her skirt. She buttoned up her shirt, and smiled at me as I put myself back together.
"Shall I drive you home?" she asked.
...
The next morning, I again woke up after Ashley had left for work. My body was tender from the previous day's yard work. My cock and balls were sore, a feeling that kept the memories of last night fresh in my mind.
The day passed quickly: breakfast, a jog, then work for the Single Mothers Club. Ashley had filled my week with babysitting, cleaning, and errands.
Ashley left for work before I woke, and stayed there for dinner, picking up food near her office. When she got home in the evening, our conversations were brief. She'd complain of feeling tired, and retreat to her bedroom, where I'd hear her watching TV on her phone.
The week passed this way.
I worried over Ashley. Since the funeral we had built such a bond, a tether woven from grief, and need, and desire. I hungered for her company. When I woke after she left, when I returned to an empty apartment, I felt the ghost of her in every room. I missed her in the living room, watching an old movie on the couch. I missed her in the kitchen, leaning over the island and gossiping on the phone. As I walked to my bedroom, I would miss her call through her door, and feel the absence of her body against mine.
On Friday, as I jogged around the park, my mind was still on Ashley, and it took me some time to realize I was being followed.
Golden Gate Park is never empty, and I didn't notice the black Tesla until it slowed down on the road beside me. As the window rolled down, I expected to see Ms. Okinawa's beautiful slender frame. Instead, John greeted me.
"Hey! Hey, Ansel!"
I didn't hesitate. I turned and ran up a small dirt path into a grove of eucalyptus trees. I heard John swear behind me, and the slam of a door.
"Ansel!" he shouted. "Stop!"
I charged up the steep path, leaping over roots. Looking over my shoulder, I saw John charging up behind me. He wore a business suit, his jacket open, his tie flapping. I swore and kept running.
"Stop!" John shouted again through heavy breaths. "Goddamnit, stop running!"
I turned down a more narrow path and ducked beneath a heavy branch. Suddenly my foot caught in a gopher hole and I spilled onto the pathway. I turned over onto my hands and feet, and leapt up into a run, but John's hand clamped onto my arm.
Gasping, he cried out, "I don't want to heart you! Goddamnit, I just want to say thank you!"
"What?" I shouted.
John put his hands on his knees and sucked in wind. I leaned my arms against the heavy branch and tried to regulate my own breathing.
Finally, John stood. He swept his hair back with one hand and put the other on my shoulder.
"I want to say thank you, Ansel," he said, his eyes on mine. "Both of us do, actually, Kimberly and I."
"Why the fuck are you thanking me?" I burst out. "I fucked your wife right in front of you!"
"I know," John said. "At first I was pissed off. But I've got to tell you. I've never seen my wife look so... sexy. I mean, I know she's a beautiful woman. And when we first met, I couldn't get enough of her. But I guess in recent years I got complacent. Since the baby was born, my eyes started to wander."
John's looked out into the eucalyptus forest, avoiding my eyes. I could tell he felt embarrassed about fucking his secretary. I took the moment to assess this man who Ms. Okinawa had married. I could see how she had fallen for him- he was handsome. He had thick black hair down to the nape of his neck, and strong black eyebrows. His square jaw seemed always coated in stubble, like some photoshopped male model. The way he had sprinted up the hill behind me, I could tell he was fit. When he and Ms. Okinawa had met, she must have felt like she had struck gold. Little did she know that years later she would catch him with his handsome face shoved into his secretary's pussy.
John continued, "When I saw her fucking you... it reminded me just how incredible she is. How lucky I was to meet her. How crazy it is that she ever fell in love with me. I suddenly realized I had to do anything I could to keep that fucking sexy goddess."
"What did you do?" I asked.
John smiled. "I quit my job. I gave up a lot of money. And the secretary, of course. But I kept my wife. She took me back, and we've spent the week working things out. We've been talking a lot. And, well, fucking a lot too. Man..."
John stared off into the forest again.
"So anyways, we were going to call you later, but I saw you in the park and I took the opportunity to talk with you. I really didn't mean to scare you like that."
"Um, it's okay," I said.
"Listen, why don't you come over after dinner for drinks and dessert tonight? We can all celebrate true love together."
I hesitated a moment, then shrugged.
"Sure, why not?"
"Great! I think this will make Kimberly really happy."
John looked back down the path, and said, "I should probably get back to my car. I don't think I'm legally parked."
I laughed, "I guess I'll see you tonight."
John smiled at me and winked.
...
I was sitting on the couch watching an old show and eating a microwaved dinner when Ashley walked through the door. She was talking on the phone and gave me a quick wave, then walked straight down the hall to her bedroom.
When a half hour passed without her return, I approached her door.
"Ashley?" I called out. "Do you want me to make you something for dinner?"
"No," came Ashley's reply, "I ate at the office. I'm just changing, I'll be out soon."
I checked the time on my phone. I planned on leaving in the next twenty minutes or so. I shrugged, and left to wash up in the bathroom, then changed into my father's gray suit. Wearing it, memories returned to me of Ms. Okinawa. I could feel her thighs against mine, her fingers at my zipper, her thick black hair twisted around my fingers.
As I headed towards the front door, I heard Ashley behind me.
"Oh my, you're looking quite handsome," she said.
I turned. Ashley was dressed in a slim, sleeveless black dress. Her hair was down, framing her pale face in chestnut curls. She wore just a hint of makeup, and a thin gold necklace. The dress emphasized her long arms, her swan neck, the curve of her round breasts.
My mouth must have been open, for Ashley laughed and lifted my chin with her fingers.
"You like it?" she asked. "I picked it up today during my lunch break."
"Yeah, um, it looks great," I said, trying to recover my composure. "Why are you wearing it? Are you going out?"
I suddenly imagined Ashley looping her arm in mine and telling me she was coming to the Okinawa's. I saw us sharing dessert and drinks with the couple, her hand trailing over the back of my neck as we told stories and laughed. Later, we would sit by the large fireplace I had seen there. I would sit in a plush chair, and Ashley would sit on the floor, her head resting in my lap.
"I've got a date tonight," Ashley said.
The dream vanished like a popped bubble.
"With who?" I asked.
"Why, are you jealous?" Ashley gave me a wicked smile. "It's a blind date, I'll have you know. Kimberly set us up."
I didn't know what to say. Of course, it was good for Ashley to date other men. I was her step-son, I could never be what she needed. On the other hand, I remembered Ashley on the couch, touching herself as she commanded me to masturbate. I remembered Ashley in bed, on her knees, her ass in my hands, her face buried in her pillow. And I remembered Ashley in my arms, sobbing in her grief, and the comfort I was able to provide.
I managed to squeak out, "Have fun tonight."
Then, without another look at my beautiful, lovely, sexy step-mom, I walked out the door.
...
John greeted me at the door. He was dressed in slacks and a silk button-down shirt, the top buttons opened to reveal a chest with wiry black hair. He looked relaxed and happy.
"Come in, come in!" he said.
He led me to the living room, lit by a fire burning happily in a large fireplace. Ms. Okinawa sat on a couch in a blue body-hugging dress, her slender leg revealed up to the thigh by a high slit, a deep dip in her bodice revealing her flawless sternum. Her hair was curled over one shoulder.

 

[Odin chacha]

"Ansel, it's so good to see you," she said. "John told me you know all about us getting back together, and how important you were to our reunion."
I said, "I'm so happy for you both."
And I meant it. As much fun as it had been to dine with and fuck Ms. Okinawa, she was a woman a world apart from me. I felt like a mortal fucking a goddess, and I knew from reading mythology that nothing good ever happened when mortals stuck their dicks in divine power.
John, too, seemed transformed. In the restaurant he had been a knot of rage, and in the car he had been a pathetic lump. But now he acted as the attentive host, walking out of the kitchen with a bottle of scotch and three glasses.
"This is the good shit," he said. "We've been saving it for a special occasion."
Ms. Okinawa accepted a glass, and held it up for John to pour into.
"Saving our marriage seems like a special occasion," she said.
John brought me a glass as well. He sat on the couch, placing his wife's long beautiful feet in his lap. I sat in a plush chair facing the couple. We all touched glasses and cheered.
The first sip of scotch burned a caramel streak down my throat and chest. Warmth spread throughout my body, releasing unknown tensions from my muscles. I could see a similar effect overtaking John and Ms. Okinawa.
Ms. Okinawa took a second sip, then said, "Ansel is a writer, John."
John looked over at me appreciatively.
"A man of the page!" he exclaimed. "What are you working on?"
I looked away from the couple, and said, "Honestly I haven't written anything in a while."
John nodded, replying, "It's easy to get lost like that. I nearly lost my way too."
He ran his hand over his wife's leg, tenderly reaching up to her thigh and back to her ankle.
"You know what you should write about," Ms. Okinawa said. "Love."
"Love?" I asked.
Ms. Okinawa had her dark eyes on me. She was wearing a little mascara, and her lashes gave her eyes a feline mischievousness.
"Yes, love," Ms. Okinawa repeated. "I think you would have a lot to write about. You look like a man in love, Ansel."
John nodded. "I can see it," he added. "You do have that look in you. I think you need to embrace it. Love comes rarely, Ansel."
There was silence then, but a warm silence as each of us thought about the loves in our lives. Ms. Okinawa and John stared into each other's eyes. I looked into the fire, drinking my scotch.
John sighed contentedly, then added, "You know, my wife is a very fine writer."
"I know you're a journalist," I said to Ms. Okinawa, "but do you write anything else?"
Ms. Okinawa suddenly blushed. It was the first time I had ever seen her look embarrassed. She gave her husband a wild-eyed look, then took a moment to regain her composure.
"Well," she said, "I actually write fantasy books... under a pseudonym."
"Fantasy?" I exclaimed. "I, uh, didn't expect that!"
John said, "Have you read the Shattered Sword of the Sundered Vale?"
I laughed. "When I was a kid, yeah."
"That was my first work," Ms. Okinawa said. "I published it when I was a freshman in college. Though I kept trying to write important things- analysis of modern events, the great American novel, you know- anytime I had writer's block I returned to fantasy."
John started to list other fantasy books Ms. Okinawa had written. I couldn't believe it, I had read them all!
We spent the next hour reviewing Ms. Okinawa's works. I seesawed between marveling at her imagination and laughing at the cognitive dissonance it took to match this stunning woman with her stories of swordfighting and sorcery. John refilled our glasses of scotch, and I stood up at one point to add more wood to the fire.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.
Ms. Okinawa stood. "Oh my," she said, "our final guest is here."
"Someone else is coming?" I asked.
John smiled at me, and said, "Why don't I refill your glass?"
Ms. Okinawa walked out of the living room. As John poured more scotch into my tumbler, I heard the door open, and Ms. Okinawa's hushed voice. There were footsteps leading not to the living room, but down a hallway.
When Ms. Okinawa returned, she carried two white bowls. She placed them on a coffee table between the couch and my chair. In one bowl were piled luscious red strawberries, freshly washed and almost glowing. The other bowl was full of freshly whipped cream.
"A little light dessert to go with our drinks," John said.
Ms. Okinawa sat back down on the couch, leaning against her husband. I dipped a strawberry in the cream and bit into it. The tanginess of the strawberry, and the lightness of the cream dazzled my tastebuds. The flavors combined with the smoky caramel of the scotch and the smell of wood burning in the fireplace.
John dipped a strawberry in the whipped cream and brought it up to Ms. Okinawa's lips. She slowly licked the cream from the strawberry, her pink tongue running circles over the fruit. When all the cream had been eaten, she sucked the tip of the strawberry between her lips, and only then bit down.
"Mm, looks like you enjoyed that," John said.
Ms. Okinawa looked at me. "Your turn."
My hand shook as I scooped whipped cream onto another strawberry. I raised it across the table, and Ms. Okinawa leaned forward. Her lips parted, and I pressed the strawberry into her mouth. Her lips closed around the thickness of the strawberry. She looked straight into my eyes as she let the strawberry rest there, her long pale neck extended, her black hair trailing down her back. Ms. Okinawa bit into the strawberry and pulled the rest of it into her mouth. Before I could lean back, she turned her head and licked my finger, where some heavy cream had stuck. Ms. Okinawa sucked my finger into her mouth and started running her tongue over it.
Meanwhile, John leaned over and untied the back of Ms. Okinawa's dress. Ms. Okinawa leaned back, my finger sliding from her lips. At the same time, the top of her dress fell down, revealing her small pale tits with their broad pink areolas and large nipples.
John took another strawberry from the bowl. He placed the tip of it on Ms. Okinawa's bare breastbone, then slowly dragged it down to her areola. He circled her nipple while kissing the side of her neck and her jaw just beneath the ear. Ms. Okinawa closed her eyes in pleasure. John crossed the strawberry to her left breast, and teased her nipple with it. Ms. Okinawa's nipples were standing straight out, and a flush bloomed between her breasts.
Ms. Okinawa's dark eyes opened, and she smiled at me. Her gaze darted down to the visible bulge in my pants, then back to my face.
"John, do you think we should introduce Ansel to our guest?"
John popped the strawberry into his mouth and nodded. He stood, and helped Ms. Okinawa off the couch. I followed the two of them down the hall. The top of Ms. Okinawa's dress was still down around her waist, and I watched the movement of muscles in her long, lean back. John, meanwhile, carried the bowls of strawberries and whipped cream.
We passed through a door into a large bedroom. The room was warm and well-furnished, with an expansive plush bed and a thick, soft rug over hardwood floors. Music played from speakers across the room- old love songs.
A woman sat on the rug, listening to the music. Her back was turned to me. Her chestnut curls cascaded down over a black silk robe. She turned as we opened the door. On her pale oval face I saw a black eyeless mask, bordered in pink silk. The robe barely covered her round breasts and the constellation of freckles spattering her collarbones.
It was Ashley.
Ms. Okinawa raised a finger to her lips. She walked over to Ashley and ran her fingers through her hair.
"Ashley dear, I have your blind date here," she said. "John's also here. Is it okay if we stick around?"
Ashley smiled and sat up on her knees, facing me. She nodded, silent.
John placed the bowls of strawberries and whipped cream on a small table near the speaker. He unbuttoned his shirt, then sat on the bed.
"Ashley, you look gorgeous," he said. "Your date is speechless."
Ms. Okinawa untied the rest of her dress, and it fell the ground around her bare feet and legs. She crawled onto the bed then sat on her knees behind her husband, her naked body pressed against his back. She started rubbing his shoulders and kissing his neck. Her eyes were on me, but they darted towards Ashley, then the fruit on the table.
"Don't you think Ashley would like some dessert?"
I picked out a large, firm red strawberry, and dipped it in the whipped cream. I stepped towards Ashley, whose lips were barely parted. With one hand, I gently held her chin. I brought the strawberry towards her lips. As soon as the cream-covered fruit touched her lips, she opened her mouth wide. I placed the strawberry in her mouth, and Ashley closed her lips around it. She sucked off the cream.
"Mmmm," she sighed.
I pulled the strawberry from Ashley's mouth, then ran it around her lips. Ashley was breathing hard, her lips trembling at the touch of the fruit. She reached down with her hands and pulled the black silk robe from her shoulders. It pooled behind her.
Ashley's body was exposed to me now. The black mask with the pink silk fringe was the only piece of clothing she wore. In the warm light of the bedroom, my eyes settled on her round breasts, her firm belly, the dark hair between her thighs.
I got down on my knees and ran the strawberry gently down Ashley's neck to her collarbone. I traced a line down her breast and around her nipple. I watched as the nipple perked up. I continued down her breast, across to the other. As I touched the other nipple, Ashley raised her hand and tapped my wrist. She let go and pointed towards her open mouth.
I dipped the strawberry in fresh whipped cream. Ms. Okinawa's hands ran down her husband's chest. She started to massage the bulge rising in John's pants. He groaned, his hands on her arms, her hair, his lips searching out for her face. Their eyes, however, were on me and Ashley.
I raised the strawberry towards Ashley's face. Her mouth was gaping wide open. She extended her tongue, and I lay the tip of the strawberry upon it. She flicked off just a bit of cream, and swallowed it. Then she licked at the rest of the strawberry, her tongue circling it over and over, getting off every bit of cream. Finally, I placed the strawberry in her mouth. She bit it with a slight crunch, swallowed it.
Ashley's lips were red with juice, white with cream. I raised her chin with my fingers, and wiped her lips with my thumb. Ashley sucked my thumb into her mouth, running her tongue over it. As I pulled it free, she once again opened her mouth wide and pointed with a slim finger.
I started to reach for another strawberry, but paused. My eyes were caught on Ashley's open mouth. Her tongue sat there, just over her bottom lip. Her eyes were still covered, and her breasts heaved with each heavy breath.
I unbuckled by belt. I slid my pants and boxers to the floor. I unbuttoned my shirt, placed it next to my other clothes.
Ms. Okinawa was my mirror, unbuckling her husband's belt as I had unbuckled mine, unzipping his pants. John lowered his pants and underwear to the floor. Now we were all naked.
Ms. Okinawa started to stroke her husband's erection. Her eyes were still on me, and my cock was quickly swelling.
I took some whipped cream in my fingers and placed it at the tip of my cock. Swollen big and red, it looked just like one of the strawberries.
I approached Ashley again. Gently, I touched her tongue with the cream-covered tip of my penis.
Ashley started to lap at the cream. As she felt the shape of the head of my cock, she smiled. I stepped forward and slid the head of my dick between her lips. She closed her lips on it, sucking all the cream off.
I heard the bedsprings creak. Ms. Okinawa stepped off the bed and got on her knees in front of her husband. As he grabbed locks of her thick black hair, she started to suck on his cock. I could see the long pale length of her back, and her small, firm ass above her folded legs.
I grabbed the back of Ashley's head and started to slowly fuck her mouth. She groaned in pleasure. I slid just an inch of my shaft into her mouth, then pulled back until the girth of my head hit the inside of her lips. Then I thrust forward again, slowly, gently, a little deeper. Over and over, I fucked her mouth patiently, achingly slow, each time going deeper. Soon Ashley's lips, chin, and my cock were coated in saliva. When I touched the back of Ashley's throat, I pulled back, but Ashley reached up and grabbed my ass. She started to push me back in.
I tightened my grip on Ashley's chestnut hair, and pushed deeper. Ashley gagged for a moment, then relaxed, and I felt the head of my cock entering her tight throat. I pulled out, and thrust in again, even deeper. And again. Each time I felt a moment of resistance, then a weakening, and I pushed my cock deeper into Ashley's throat. Saliva dripped down Ashley's chin and onto her breasts. Her hands stayed on my ass, gripping me, pushing me, daring me to go further.
Finally Ashley's nose was touching my crotch. Her lips were stretched around the base of my cock. I felt her breathing through her nose, her breath tickling my pubic hair.
I stayed a moment longer, then pulled entirely out of Ashley's mouth. She gasped, wiping at the thick saliva with the back of her hand. Her nipples were standing straight out from her breasts, and I could see moisture beading the hair between her thighs.
I lowered down towards Ashley and kissed her deeply. It was a wet, passionate kiss. Then I placed my hands on Ashley's shoulders and lowered her body to the soft rug.
Ms. Okinawa stood, and pushed John to the bed. She crawled onto the bed again, then straddled John's mouth, facing me. He started to lick her pussy. Ms. Okinawa moaned in pleasure, and ground her hips down into her husband's face.
I picked out another strawberry from the bowl. I brought it to Ashley's lips. She sucked on the tip of the strawberry, but not for long. I traced the strawberry down her chin and neck, then along the length of her body as she lay on the rug. I dipped the strawberry into her belly button, then down through her dark public hair to her pussy.
Ashley's pussy was warm and wet, swollen and pink. I stopped the strawberry right at the mound of her clit, and left it there, barely touching her. Ashley moaned and started moving her hips, rubbing her clit against the strawberry. Her pussy lips were moist, growing wetter by the second. I put a little more pressure on the strawberry, and Ashley responded the same, shifting her hips upwards. Her fingers sank into the thick carpet.
I raised the strawberry back to Ashley's mouth and placed it between her lips, which were red with berry juice. She sucked on the strawberry. I lowered myself down between her open thighs. I brought my mouth close to Ashley's pussy, and breathed warm air on it.
Ashley moaned through the strawberry in her mouth.
I traced just the tip of my tongue from the bottom of Ashley's pussy to the top. I waited a bit, knowing Ashley's eyes were covered, that she would be anticipating my next move. Her thighs shook eagerly. I flattened my tongue, and this time gave Ashley a big puppy-dog lick, spreading her pussy lips as I lapped deep and hard. Ashley groaned, sucking greedily on the strawberry.
On the bed, Ms. Okinawa had shifted. She lay on her side, facing me. Her husband spooned her, and fucked her gently, while propped on an elbow. Both of them watched as I ate out my step-mom.
I started licking Ashley's pussy like crazy, burying my face in her crotch, breathing her in, getting her juices all over my lips and chin. I devoured her. I thrust my tongue between her pussy lips, then flicked it over her clit. I sucked on her clit, and inserted two fingers into her pussy, sliding them in and out. Her thighs were shaking, and she lifted her hips against my face. Her fingers continued to grip the thick carpet, and she sucked and moaned against the strawberry perched on her lips.
As I attacked Ashley's clit with my tongue and lips, and fucked her pussy with my fingers, I heard her breathing quicken. Her moans became a rapid series of muffled cries. Her thighs tightened around my head, but I did not let up. She bucked her hips wildly against my face, then suddenly let out a muffled scream. Her legs shuddered, and pussy juice flooded my hand, lips, and chin.
I heard a crunch, and looked up to see Ashley chewing on the strawberry in between deep breaths. I gave her pussy another kiss and sat up.
Ashley lay there, panting, her naked breasts flushed, her crotch wet with sweat and pussy juices.
I gently spread Ashley's thighs apart and sat on my knees between her legs. I took my cock in my hand and lay it down over Ashley's pussy, the length of it lying upon her slit. I started to shift back and forth, rubbing her pussy with my swollen cock. Ashley smiled and moaned with pleasure.
I placed the head of my cock at Ashley's pussy lips, but did not enter. Instead, I started to stroke myself. Each time my hand came to the top of my shaft, it touched Ashley's ass cheeks. She could tell what was happening, and responded by trying to lift her hips against my cock, to get me to enter her. I refused, withholding my cock, stroking faster.
I felt myself growing harder and harder. I suddenly grabbed Ashley's knee and pulled her over onto her side. I put my hands on her hips and lifted her onto her hands and knees. Again I placed my cock at Ashley's swollen, wet pussy lips, and stroked my cock. Ashley keened and pushed her ass towards me, trying to get my cock inside her, but I continued to tease her instead.
On the bed, John guided Ms. Okinawa onto her knees. As he entered her from behind, he pulled her hair from her face so they could both watch me tease Ashley.
I suddenly remembered sitting on the couch with Ashley, and how in our game of Hot and Cold, Ashley had surprised me with how she liked to be treated. My heart raced. I had never been rough with a woman before. And yet, here was Ashley, her bare ass facing me, her round tits hanging down, her hands and knees on the floor, a black mask over her eyes.
I suddenly pulled my hand back and slapped Ashley's ass, leaving a bright red mark on her cheek. Ashley let out a yip, then moaned with pleasure. I twirled a chestnut lock of hair around my fist, and pulled Ashley's head back while I thrust the full length of my cock into her pussy.
Ashley's back arched, her head tilting back and a loud groan escaping from her wide open mouth. Ashley's tits bounced wildly as I thrust against her, full deep thrusts, pulling the length of my shaft out of her then sliding it back into her wet pussy. My crotch slapped against her ass, and I kept a tight grip on her hair.
Ashley's arms began to shake, and I felt another orgasm ripple through her body. Her pussy gripped my cock tightly as I continued to fuck her hard from behind.
I heard, on the bed, John and Ms. Okinawa climax together, their cries in unison.
Guttural sounds came from Ashley's mouth, and a string of drool fell from her lips. I pulled harder on Ashley's hair, and she sat up on her knees, her back against my chest. I raised my hand and squeezed one of her breasts, hard, while turning her head towards me and kissing her open, wet mouth. I moaned into her mouth, feeling my balls tightening.
I pushed Ashley back to the ground and pulled my cock from her pussy. I put the head of my cock between Ashley's ass cheeks and pumped myself, riding the wave of pleasure towards my own climax. Suddenly I came, grunting and moaning, coating Ashley's ass and back in thick white cum.
Ashley lay with her elbows on the ground, her glazed ass raised towards me. I took a strawberry from the bowl near where she lay, and dipped it in the cum on her ass. I raised Ashley back into a sitting position, now facing me. I brought the strawberry to her lips.

 

[Odin chacha]

Ashley's tongue darted out, and tentatively licked the strawberry. When she tasted what was on it, she sucked it into her mouth. I pulled the strawberry back out, absolutely clean. Ashley swallowed, and smiled. I popped the strawberry into my mouth.
Ashley leaned forward and kissed me. Her lips were swollen with pleasure, wet with saliva and sweat. I could taste the tartness of the strawberries we had eaten.
Ashley brought her lips next to my ear, and whispered to me.
"I love you," she said.
I held her in my arms.
At some point, Ms. Okinawa and John were standing near us. Ms. Okinawa draped the black silk robe back over Ashley's shoulders. John, pulling on his pants and shirt, patted by shoulder and said, "Why don't we have another drink in the living room, give these ladies time to clean themselves?"
I put on my own pants and shirt, and followed John out. After cleaning up in the bathroom, I collapsed into one of the plush chairs near the fire. John poured generous glasses of scotch, and we sipped silently, both of us warm and exhausted.
Eventually I heard footsteps heading towards the front door, which I heard open and close. After a few minutes, Ms. Okinawa walked into the room. She wore a pale green robe. Her hair looked freshly washed, and her skin glowed. I realized enough time had passed here by the fire for her to have taken a shower. Ashley, probably, too, knowing the mess I had made on her ass and back.
"John," Ms. Okinawa said, "our guest just left in an Uber."
John nodded, and poured Ms. Okinawa a glass of scotch. She sat down on the carpet by John's feet, leaning against his knees.
"Ms. Okinawa," I said, "I have some thoughts on love."
"Oh yes?" she replied, her dark eyes with their black lashes turning towards me.
I nodded, and added, "Yes, but I don't know that I can say them yet. I think I might have to write them down."
"If you do, we would love to read it. Wouldn't we John?"
John nodded and smiled. He looked down at his beautiful wife, and his smile widened.
"I love love," he said, laughing.
Ms. Okinawa and I burst out laughing as well.
It would take me years to write about the love I felt then, the love I battled with that summer. Love is complex. Love is family, and love is a neighborhood. Love is sex, and love is climax. My love for Ashley, my love for my step-mom, was not something I would come to fully understand that summer. I'm not sure I do, even now. But I was thankful for it. And looking back on those numbered summer days, I am thankful it was there.
...
I had been tipsy before John and Ms. Okinawa invited me back to their bedroom. I was drunk by the time I left their beautiful house.
I fumbled with my keys at the door to my apartment, then discovered only after more clumsiness that the door was open. Inside, the lights were off, but a blue flickering glow emanated from the living room.
I found Ashley there, in a large college sweatshirt and pajama bottoms. She sat with her feet on the coffee table, drinking a glass of wine. My Fair Lady was back on the television.
"Are you watching this again?" I asked.
She looked up at me, and her face bloomed into a warm, wide smile.
"I am," she said. "I got a little distracted the last time I tried."
"Can I join you?"
"Sure!"
I sat down next to Ashley. She shifted, leaning her weight against me. She rested her head on my shoulder.
"How was your blind date?" I asked her.
"Hm..." Ashley thought. "Pretty good, I'd say. Kimberly knows how to pick them out."
I turned my face to Ashley. She kept her eyes on the television. Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. Her pale, oval face looked clean and innocent, her eyes drinking in the colorful costumes and joyful dancing of the movie. I noticed, suddenly, that my hand was in hers. Our fingers had intertwined, without my notice.
I sighed contentedly, and turned back to the television.
I suddenly wished for the movie to last the whole night. I wished for the movie to last the whole summer through.
The End
...
The entangled adventure of Ansel and Ashley will continue in The Single Mothers Club, Chapter 3!