The Best Erotic Stories.

Kate Ch. I
by Alex de Kok

This is a work of fiction, written for enjoyment and amusement, hopefully yours as well as mine. Comment and constructive criticism welcomed.

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It started on a Friday night. Friday was my evening to go bowling. A small ladies' league, all fun and gossip, no serious bowling intentions. That doesn't mean we couldn't play. We could, and very well too, but like I said, Friday night was fun night. Except that this Friday wasn't much fun. There are ten or a dozen of us who meet on a Friday, ages ranging from mid-twenties to retirement. Most married, with Connie Koski and myself widows. The married ones had been a bit wary of me at first, only in my mid-thirties (Connie's sixty), but when I made it clear that I had no interest in their husbands they warmed up and now we got on fine.

"Anyway, it was Friday, and I was going bowling. My daughter Meg - Megan - was in our pool, wearing - or nearly wearing - her new bikini. I wasn't sure I approved of it, because she looked more naked with it on than she did naked, but I wasn't about to say anything. I figured I had to let her make her own mistakes. I had always answered her questions about sex and the like as honestly as I could and I'd covered my bets by getting her on the pill. There wasn't anything else I could do. But that bikini!

"I'm off now, honey," I said. Meg swam over and climbed out of the pool, giving me a careful kiss.

"Okay, mom. Will you leave the front door open. Mike's coming over for a swim, should be here any minute."

"Will do. See you about ten."

"OK, mom. 'Bye."

I went through and was in the hallway when the doorbell rang. I opened the door. Mike.

"Hi, Mike, come on in."

"Hi, Mrs.. Evans. Meg around?" he asked.

"She's in the pool. Got your suit?"

"Under my jeans," he replied, smiling.

"Go on through. You know the way." I turned, looking for my purse, found it on the hall table and grabbed it. "I'm off now. I'll see you later if you're still here when I get back."

"'Bye, Mrs. Evans," he said, grinning. "Show them how it's done!"

I smiled at him. No, let's be truthful, I grinned. Most unladylike. "I'll do my best, Mike, you can be sure of that. I don't know any other way to play. Bowling, or anything else in life." I smiled again and went out to the car, then set off for the alley.

I was surprised when I arrived, for there seemed to be hardly anyone around. Friday is generally accepted as ladies' night, or for families, up until nine, when Charlie lets anyone in who wants to play. We 'gals' play usually from seven until nine-thirty or ten, then have a beer or a soda and go home. Tonight, Mimi Willis was sitting with Hetty Collier and Jan Seely. Betty Parker, Val Kostow and Jacqui Benton were at the next table. No-one else. I sat with Mimi, Hetty and Jan, nodding hello to the others.

"Where is everyone?" I asked.

"'Flu," said Hetty indistinctly. "And I think I've got it, too. If you ladies will excuse me," she said, blowing her nose fluidly on a huge handkerchief, "I'm going home." She smiled wanly and went out, saying goodbye to the others as she went.

"Well," I said, "that about puts paid to any competition tonight."

Jan nodded. AI think you're right, Kate. Hey, Betty?" she called to the other table.

"What is it, you long streak of misery?" asked Betty, grinning.

"Best of five?"

"You're on!" The two went off, arguing good-naturedly. Val Kostow came over from the other table.

"Pairs? Best of five?"

I looked at Mimi. She shrugged. "Why not?"

We played for a while. Mimi and I got beaten, three to one. None of us seemed to have any enthusiasm.

"I think I'll head home. No-one seems interested tonight. What about you?" I asked the group at large. It ended with Mimi and me leaving and the others deciding to play 'a couple more games'. Mimi and I got our coats and stuff and headed out. Being summer it was still light. I glanced at my watch. Eight-thirty. I didn't usually leave until about ten. It was still warm and I thought idly that I might have a swim before it got too cool. I said goodnight to Mimi and we set off in our opposite directions.

Mike's pickup was still parked outside, so I guessed they would either be in the pool or watching television. Oops! Or necking, I thought, about to march into the living-room. I don't want to embarrass them, I thought, peering into the room around the door. Ohmigod! I thought, biting my tongue so as not to say anything.

Meg was on her back on the sheepskin rug. She was naked. Mike was on top of her, his ass moving gently but rhythmically as he fucked her. The way they were lying, Mike's feet were towards me. Meg had her legs wrapped around him, her heels hooked into his ass. She was moaning gently.

"Oh, fuck me, lover, fuck me, fuck me," she moaned. "Fill me with your come," she whispered hoarsely. A I want to feel you come in me!" At her words, I felt a flush of warmth in my cunt. I held my breath, scarcely daring to breathe, knowing that I should not be watching this, knowing too that I was not going to move, I couldn't.

Mike began to move a little harder, still keeping a smooth rhythm. Meg was trembling visibly and she began to pant. Her hands were all over Mike, fluttering.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Meg moaned, almost chanting, "I'm co-o-m-m-i-i-n-g!" Her hips began to buck and Mike moved urgently into her.

"Meg! Oh, Meg, baby, I'm coming!" Mike said, driving his cock into my daughter. My cunt throbbed and suddenly my panties were soaking. 'Jeez', I thought. 'I wish it was me!' I had my hands to my mouth, so as not to make any noise and I was thinking furiously. I didn't want to embarrass Meg, or Mike, but I wasn't sure I could get back out without them hearing me, now that they were coming down from their sexual high.

Carefully, I started to ease back but I must have made some noise, because suddenly Mike looked over his shoulder, horrified.

"Oh, shit!" he moaned in anguish.

"What's up?" I heard Meg ask, alarm in her voice.

"Your mother," said Mike.

Meg's face suddenly appeared over Mike's shoulder, horrified. Our eyes met and she sank slowly back out of sight, muttering, her eyes closed. Mike withdrew hurriedly from Meg, his prick suddenly visible to me. I looked at it, fascinated, then caught Mike's eye. I flushed scarlet - I must have, I felt so hot - and turned away, muttering "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" as I did so. I finally got my leaden feet to work and hurried out.

In the fresh air, I got back into the car and was about to drive away when I stopped myself. What was I doing? Okay, I'd just caught my daughter and her boyfriend fucking. Big deal! I'd put her on the pill because I thought they were! I was embarrassed, and no doubt they would be, too. So what the hell was wrong with me. My cunt throbbed, reminding me. Heck, I'd thought the thing was dead, it had been lifeless for so long. Since Tom was killed I'd had no interest in sex. I tried to analyse my feelings, but whichever way I figured it I reached the same conclusion. I wished it had been me, Kathleen Evans, thirty-six year old widow, that twenty-year-old Michael Hanson had been fucking. I flushed again, embarrassed at myself. I sat and stared out of the car windscreen, my thoughts in turmoil.

Movement caught my eye. Meg, in jeans and sweatshirt, looking anxiously in at me. She smiled wanly. Get a grip, Kathleen Evans, I told myself. That girl is expecting a roasting, when she needs sympathy and support. If that was her first time it could be a touch traumatic, because that prick of Mike's must be about eight inches!

I got out of the car. Meg began to say something but I put my fingers on her lips. "Inside, sweetheart. Come on, it's all right." I took her hand and led her back indoors.

Mike was standing waiting. Score one for you, I thought. You stayed to face the music. I gazed at him and despite my inner turmoil managed a smile. Not a big one, but a smile.

"Sit down, Michael. You too, Megan." I indicated the couch and sat opposite them in the armchair. "All right," I said, "how long has this been going on?" I was careful not to let any anger show in my voice. In truth, now that I was over the shock I realised I wasn't angry, just concerned that all was well between them. I knew from my spectating that Meg was a willing participant.

Meg looked at Mike, surprised, I think, but answered me readily enough. "It was the first time, mom. The very first time." She smiled crookedly. "I suppose I'm grounded now, or banished or something. I warn you, mom, I'll sneak out to meet Mike if I have to."

"You're not grounded, sweetheart," I said. "Why do you think I put you on the pill, you silly goose? I saw the way you were behaving with Mike. I guessed something like this might happen."

"You're not angry, Mrs. Evans?" asked Mike, surprised.

"No, Mike. I'm not angry, although I could have wished you'd been somewhere other than in the middle of the sitting-room floor when I came in. It's something of a shock to find your daughter and her boyfriend stark naked and screwing like crazy on your best sheepskin."

Mike flushed deeply. "I guess it is," he mumbled.

"Next time, use Meg's bedroom, will you?" I said.

"Next time?" asked Meg in surprise, her voice a strangled squeak.

"I take it there will be a next time?" I asked dryly.

"Yes, mom, there will. I enjoyed it too much not to want to do it again." Meg's tone was defiant.

"Well, sweetheart, I think it would be better if you made love in your bedroom, rather than on the floor in here." A thought took me and I couldn't help myself, I grinned. "You can take the sheepskin if you want, your bedroom's big enough."

Meg stood up and came across to hug me fiercely. "Mom, you're the best!" she said.

"I doubt it, sweetheart," I replied, Abut I'm realistic enough to realise that now my daughter has discovered the joy of lovemaking she'll want to do it again."

"I do, mom, I do."

"Well, all right, but not on the floor in here. At least, not unless you are absolutely certain there is no way I can catch you at it, and I don't think you can be that certain."

"I guess not, mom." Meg smiled. "Not unless you go away on holiday." She frowned suddenly. "Why did you come home early?"

"The competition was postponed, everyone seems to have the 'flu. There were only seven of us, then Hetty Collier decided she was going home to her sick bed, never mind anyone else! I just played a couple of games with Mimi, then came home." I stood up. "It's still early, I know, but I think I'll go to bed. Don't make too much noise, will you?" I smiled. "Mike, you can stay the night if you wish. After all, it is Saturday tomorrow and neither of you have to go to school. But for goodness sake, the two of you, be careful!" And on that note, I went out.

I left stunned silence behind me, but I didn't doubt that they would be talking about what I'd said. I'd put money on it! I went into my bedroom and closed the door behind me. I undressed and took a good look at myself in the full-length mirror. A thirty-six year old widow looked back at me. Slim, for I look after my figure, with reasonably slim hips, a decent waist and big tits. Actually, they're not really that big, 36C, it's just that, like Meg, I have a narrow back.

I lay down on the bed, still naked. For the first time in over four years, I caressed my tits, the nipples slowly stiffening. My cunt was still throbbing and I remembered how Tom used to like to watch me playing with myself, before we fucked each other to sleep. A vision of Mike's prick came to me and I felt myself flush, then slowly, almost of their own volition, my fingers stole between my legs and I began to masturbate, stroking my clitoris, fingering the soaking tunnel of my cunt. My orgasm was quick and violent, alarming in its remembered turbulence.

I lay until I regained my equilibrium, then did it again. I lay, cooling, breathing heavily, then got up and took a quick shower, flushing the traces of my own juices away. I dried myself quickly on a coarse towel, enjoying the roughness on my body, then donned my usual nightwear, one of Tom's old tee-shirts. I had hardly got into bed when there was a knock and Meg's head appeared around the door.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course, sweetheart." I patted the bed beside me. "Sit here."

Meg came over and stretched out beside me.

"Mike gone?" I asked.

"Yes. We thought, well, better he went home, this time." Meg hugged me suddenly, then giggled. "He's bringing his toothbrush tomorrow."

I laughed, then took Meg's hand, squeezing it gently. "Are you all right, sweetheart? You're not hurting, or anything?"

"It hurts a little bit, mom, but it felt so good when Mike was inside me."

"I remember my first time, too. Your Dad had a van, and we had an old airbed and some blankets. I couldn't have wished for a better bed."

"You miss him, don't you, mom?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I still miss him." I laughed ruefully. "Particularly after the emotions you two stirred up."

"Mom, I'm sorry," Meg began, but I shushed her.

"It's all right, hon, it just means I'm alive again."

"You sure it's OK, mom? We never intended you should catch us fuc . . er, making love."

"I'm sure, baby." I squeezed her hand. "Did you enjoy it, or did you just put up with it to please Mike?"

"Oh, mom, I enjoyed it! It felt great!"

I was relieved. I had always enjoyed fucking with Tom, and I was pleased that if nothing else, my daughter had inherited my blonde hair, my brown eyes, my big tits and my joy in fucking.

"I'm glad, sweetheart. Your Dad and I always enjoyed our fucking."

"Mom! I never knew you used language like that!" Meg was teasing me.

"You were just my little girl before. Now you're a grown woman who likes to fuck with her man."

"I do, mom. I surely do. Did you really mean it, that Mike could sleep with me?"

"Yes, I did, or even stay awake with you, which is even more fun!"

Meg giggled. "You've changed, mom. We've always been friends, I know, but tonight, I don't know, it's different."

"That's because we're not just friends, or mother and daughter, we're intimates."

Meg was quiet for a while, then said, AI think you're right, mom. It's different, isn't it?"

"I think so. Some don't."

"More fool them. I think I'll go to bed now, mom." She leaned over and hugged me, kissing my cheek. "Thanks, mom, for being the best mother in the world. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, baby daughter become a woman. Sleep well. Pleasant dreams."

Meg giggled again. "Erotic ones, I hope! 'Night, mom." She went out.

Goodnight, daughter, I thought. May the fates smile on you.

I masturbated twice more before I could get to sleep.

Saturday morning I left fairly early, did the photographs I had to take and kept away from the house. I knew Mike would be there with Meg and wasn't sure just how I felt. I liked him, sure, and I respected him for standing by Meg when I caught them, but that was as my daughter's boyfriend. Any half way decent boy would have done the same. What worried me were the feelings I had when I saw his prick thrusting into Meg's cunt, even more so when I saw it withdraw and realised its size. A thirty-six year old widow should not be lusting after a boy little more than half her age, even more so when it was her daughter's boyfriend.

I realised, of course, that I couldn't hide from them, stopped at a Chinese for a takeaway meal for three and went home at about six. Mike and Meg were in the pool. I waved the bag at them.

"Chinese. Five minutes."

"Okay, mom. Five minutes."

I enjoyed the meal and forced myself to relax. I can be a courteous hostess when I've got my hormones under control and apart from a couple of minutes of uncomfortable silence from Mike, before he realised that I wasn't about to say anything about the night before and relaxed, we had a quiet and comfortable evening watching TV.

Meg and Mike went off to bed about ten, both of them unnaturally silent. I laughed to myself, then went off to my own lonely bed and masturbated myself to sleep again.

Sunday was similar, except that I was only out for a couple of hours and the lunch was cooked by Meg. Trying to impress Mike, I figured, but she was good and getting better. I can cook and I enjoy it, but my recipes tend to the conventional, while Meg keeps trying new ones she's found in magazines and books.

I went out at four, telling the kids I'd be back after eight. I wanted them to have some time to themselves without being embarrassed by my presence. I guessed that four hours would be enough time to have a decent fuck. Or two. Maybe three. With Meg due to visit her grandmother in New York Thursday to Sunday - long since planned - I invited Mike over to dinner on Wednesday.

"You won't be seeing Meg until Sunday," I said, "so come over for dinner Wednesday before she leaves. Make it six-thirty. I have to be at the Golf Club dinner to take the photographs by eight-thirty, so you'll have the evening to yourselves."

"Thanks, Mrs. Evans, that'd be great," said Mike. I noticed that he was flushing less when I arranged to be discreetly absent. Not that this was the case this time. I genuinely did have to shoot the Golf Club dinner.

Monday and Tuesday Meg didn't see Mike, because he was helping his Uncle Bob do the stocktaking in his sports goods store. Wednesday dinner was good. I was pleased that Mike had gotten back to his usual relaxed self, he'd been wary around me at the weekend and I missed his corny jokes. He'd gone when I got back to the house at eleven. Meg was sitting up waiting for me. I kicked my shoes off and sprawled inelegantly on the couch.

"Why do the photographers have to dress for the dinner as well?" I asked plaintively. AI don't object to wearing a dress, but those heels will kill me! I like my sneakers!"

"How'd it go, mom? The usual stuffed shirts?"

I grimaced. "Yeah. Judge Wilson gets worse. His speeches used to be short and witty when I started doing the dinner shoots, but they're getting longer and losing the wit. I used to get great audience shots, laughs and smiles galore. Now it's poker faces and yawns."

Meg laughed. "Poor mom. Can I get you a drink?"

"After watching those idiots I need something special. Get me a large malt whisky, with just a tiny drop of water."

"Coming up!"

Very quickly Meg handed me a shot glass uncomfortably full of whisky and - I noticed - very little water. Never mind, I enjoyed a good Scots malt and tried to keep a couple of different ones. I didn't often drink them, so I doubt if I got through four bottles in a year, but I liked them.

"Have a good evening, hon?" I asked.

Meg grinned. "Yeah!" She laughed, then sobered. "I'm going to miss Mike."

"He'll miss you too, hon. Think of the reunion!"

"I know. I mean, I love grandma, but I'm going to my lonely bed at nights with no nice warm man around."

I had a sudden idea. "Come up to my room. I want to show you something."

"Sure, mom. Lead on."

I picked up my shoes and my glass and led the way. I had finished most of the drink and I think my judgement was blunted or I might never have done what I did next. I rummaged in my bottom drawer, found the box I was looking for and took it out. Meg was sitting on the bed, curious. I opened the box and stopped, flushing.

"What is it, mom? Why are you blushing?"

"I'm embarrassed. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, getting this out."

"You can't stop now! You've gone too far."

I took the item from the box and held it up. Meg flushed scarlet in her turn and giggled, then held out her hand.

"Give it here, mom. Wherever did you get a dildo?" At least she knew what it was.

"Your Dad gave it to me on our third anniversary. He had to go away for a week on a course. It was the first time we'd been separated for more than a day or so."

"Did you use it?"

"Not for three days. Then I missed him so much, I had to. It's no substitute for the real item, but it's better than nothing."

Meg examined my husband substitute carefully. She looked at me quizzically. I shrugged.

"Take it with you, hon. I don't know how it compares to Mike, but don't for gosh sakes let your grandma see it!"

"How do I use it?" asked Meg.

I laughed. "Come on, sweetheart! You know where it goes!"

"I guess I do. Oh, the end unscrews. What's that for?"

"Fill it with hot water. That way you get a warm prick in you even if it's not a live one."

"Thanks, mom." She hugged me, then laughed. AI don't doubt some of the girls at school have these, in fact I know they do, but I bet I'm the only girl who got one from her mom!" I must have looked alarmed, for she continued. ADon't worry, mom, the only ones who'll know this are me and you."

"And Mike, no doubt."

"Not if you don't want me to tell him." Meg was concerned.

"I don't mind, honey, it might make him laugh."

"What about you, mom?"

I frowned. "What about me?"

"Won't you need it?" Meg's tone was gentle.

I shrugged. AI haven't had a prick of any sort in me since your Dad was killed."

"Time you did, then." Her words shocked me and I made to speak but Meg held up her hand. "Mom, think. You're thirty-six. That's young! Take a lover!"

"Megan Evans! What are you saying?" I was surprised at my daughter, but a stirring within me suggested she was right. My cunt was definitely coming back to life!

"Come on, mom. You're a good-looking woman in her prime. There's many a man would jump at the chance to bed you!"

"Yes, and most of them married. No way do I risk spoiling someone's marriage. The ones who aren't married don't particularly attract me." I opened my mouth to carry on, then stopped, appalled at myself. I had been about to say, 'except Mike'.

Meg looked at me curiously. "Except?" she prompted gently. I flushed. Her eyes widened. "Except Mike? Is that it? It is!" she exclaimed as my flush deepened and I avoided her eyes. Meg reached out and touched me.

"Mom," she said gently, "if you want Mike and can get him into bed while I'm away, go ahead, but I want him back, Sunday. Understand?"

"Megan Evans, what on earth do you think you're saying!"

"That you've got the hots for Mike, mom. Come on, look me in the eye and deny it!"

I raised my eyes and looked at her. There was nothing but concern on her face.

I nodded. "You're right, sweetheart. I haven't been able to get him out of my head since I caught the two of you on Friday. But I don't intend to do anything about it."

"You're a fool then, mom. Mike is a wizard, with a magic wand."

Despite myself, I laughed. AI have to look at myself in the mirror, sweetheart. I'm not about to make a fool of myself with my daughter's boyfriend."

"Why not? You'd be doing me a favour."

"Tell me how you figure that one out, Megan Evans."

"If he's fucking you, he's not fucking one of my friends. Mom, you I trust!"

"I think you're being ridiculous, Meg. Now, I don't want to hear another word."

"Mom, I repeat. If you can get Mike into bed, go ahead. But Sunday, he's mine again. And OK, now, I'll shut up. Want some cocoa?"

"Please, sweetheart."

Meg went out and I thought about what she'd said. I had to acknowledge that thinking about Mike made my pussy throb, but the thought of actually bedding him was ridiculous. I lay, trying not to think about him.

Next morning, early, I drove Meg to the airport. She insisted that I get myself away and not wait to see her off.

"No point, mom. I'm flying. I'll do the waiting. You're not, so don't!"

"It makes sense, hon. You don't mind?"

"No mom, I don't mind. Mom?"

"Yes, hon?"

"Mike doesn't have to go to school, today or tomorrow. 'Bye, mom." Meg turned on her heel and left, leaving me with my thoughts churning.

"All Thursday, I kept myself busy, catching up on prints that needed doing and keeping a long overdue promise to visit a girlfriend who lived about fifty miles away. Friday was the same, except for the visit. Saturday, too, at first. I went to the mart and did my shopping, then drove home with a ridiculous idea in my head.

Once I got home, I undressed completely and took a shower. Dried, I went naked into the bedroom and stood in front of the full-length mirror. I studied myself critically.

Hair, OK. Needed cutting, but the style was good and it suited my face. Honey-blonde, lightened by the sun.

Face. Straight nose. Full lips. Very kissable, Tom had always said. Chin, probably too strong, but not uncomfortably so. Reflected my stubborn side. Eyes. Deep brown, big. Straight brows. High cheekbones. Altogether, not unattractive, I felt.

Tits. Too big. 36C. Not too much sag, thank God. I reflected that Tom had always loved them. One thing, my nipples were sensitive. I could come from having my nipples sucked, or at least I used to.

Waist. Reasonable at 26". I could live with that. Belly slightly too rounded, but OK.

Hips. Good. 37". My hips didn't bother me.

I twisted to look at my butt in the mirror. Not bad, in fact, quite a nice butt.

Legs. Long. No excess muscle or fat, no varicose veins. I was proud of my legs.

I pondered, then went for my camera bag. By twelve, the shots were finished and proofed and I studied them carefully. They weren't the first nude shots of me by any means, but they were the first intended for any other audience but Tom and me. I made my selection and printed up a 10x8, then went to my wardrobe and studied my clothes. Don't be stupid, Kate, don't overplay. I selected a plain white blouse and charcoal skirt, just above the knee.

Underwear. I put back my first choices and took out a matching bra and panties set in deep pink silk. I hadn't worn these since Tom had been killed. Stockings, not pantyhose, I thought, taking out a tan pair and the ridiculous wisp of garter belt that matched the bra and pants. Once these were on, I studied myself in the mirror. Well, I thought, any reasonably red-blooded male seeing me in this outfit should at least feel interested, especially the way my tits hang out. I put on the blouse and skirt and a pair of flat-heeled shoes and went downstairs. On impulse, I went back up to Meg's room and took the sheepskin back down to the sitting-room. I took a deep breath and picked up the 'phone.

A female voice answered. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Hanson, it's Kathleen Evans, Meg's mother. May I have a word with Mike if he's there, please."

"He's here, Mrs. Evans, just a moment."

I waited, my heart pounding. His voice came on the line. "Hello?"

"Mike, it's Kathleen Evans."

"Hi, Mrs. Evans. What can I do for you?"

"Do you know anything about pool filters. Ours seems to be blocked." Liar!

"Not an awful lot, Mrs. Evans, but if you want, I could drop by and have a look."

"Would you, Mike? I'd be very grateful."

"OK if I come around now?"

"Now would be fine, Mike." Now would be absolutely marvelous.

"See you in about fifteen minutes."

I put the 'phone down and sat, trembling. It wasn't long before I heard Mike's pickup crunching over our gravel drive and I had the door open while he was walking up the path. He looked good. I smiled, and continued my lie.

"Hi, Mike, thanks for coming around. I think I got you here under false pretences. I pulled some leaves out of the filter and everything seems to be OK again." I smiled ruefully. Jesus, you lying bitch.

"Shall I have a look anyhow?" he asked.

I nodded. "I'd be grateful. While you're doing that, I'll make some lemonade. Do you like lemonade?"

"Sure do."

Mike went through to the pool and I busied myself making the lemonade, feeling my heart pounding in my chest and my cunt getting wetter.

"Mrs. Evans?" Mike called as he came back into the house.

"In the kitchen, Mike." He came through and found me sitting at the kitchen table with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. I poured one for each of us and handed him a glass, raising my own in toast.

"Here's to us!"

"I'll drink to that." He smiled. "Nothing wrong with the filter that I could see. Probably just the leaves."

"That's good. Mike?"

"Yes, Mrs. Evans?"

"About last Friday."

He flushed, and I held my hand up. "Don't be embarrassed, Mike, it's just that this is the first time I've managed to catch you by yourself. Meg and I had a good long talk after you'd gone. You are welcome in this house."

"Thank you, Mrs. Evans. You are a rarely fine lady." His face was slightly flushed and he avoided my eye

I shrugged. "You may not think so when I've finished." God, my voice was so faint I wondered if he could hear me. "On Friday, when I disturbed you and Meg, well, I'd been standing there, watching you, for about five minutes." I couldn't look him in the eye.

"Watching us?" Mike was puzzled. Embarrassed too, I think.

I nodded, feeling my face flush hotly. "Watching. I still feel guilty and I felt I must apologise."

"There is no need for apology, Mrs. Evans. Hell, we were fucking . ." His voice tailed off and he faltered, "uh, making love, on your best sheepskin."

I managed a faint smile. "I know, Mike. As I said, I was watching." I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "Mike, I was standing there with my pants wet and my cunt aching. I wanted it to be me lying there, Mike, not Megan. Me, with that beautiful cock of yours driving into me."

Mike looked amazed. He opened his mouth to speak, but I waved him to silence.

"When I realised that, Mike, there was no way I could fairly condemn the two of you, was there?" I asked.

Mike shrugged, confused, I think. "I guess not, although I wouldn't have been surprised if you'd ordered me out," he said with a rueful smile.

"And still face myself in the mirror? I'm not that much of a hypocrite. I wanted you, Mike." I looked away. "I still do," I said, my voice scarcely audible, my blood pounding in my ears.

"I'm sorry?" said Mike, patently not believing his ears.

I looked at him again. "Mike, I haven't had a man in my bed since Megan's father died. That's four years, Mike. I didn't think I missed sex until I saw the two of you on Friday." I sat for a moment, then reached to the envelope beside me. "You know how I make my living, Mike?" I asked.

"Sure, as a photographer for the Tribune."

I studied his face, then reached into the envelope. "I took a photograph for you, this morning. I just finished processing it before I 'phoned." I passed him the photograph. I watched the play of emotions on his face; surprise, mostly, but I thought I saw a glimpse of admiration. He looked at me. I shrugged, flushing. "Yes, it's me."

He looked again at the picture, then at me. "Why?" he asked.

"I want you to fuck me, Mike. I want to feel your cock in my cunt. You have no reason to think that there is any obligation on you, for I certainly don't intend to go screaming to your mother that her son raped my daughter." I managed a wry laugh. "I watched the two of you, remember? I think that picture gives you an idea of what you'd be getting, that I'm not exactly repulsive, so that you might actually consider doing it. I think I'm a good lay, Mike, or at least I used to be." I looked at him steadily, my heart pounding. "What do you say?"

He looked at me, then at the picture, then tore it in half and handed it back to me, his face solemn. Oh, Meg, honey, you'll never speak to me again when Mike tells you this! I was devastated. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. Cold shame filled me. I looked at him in mounting horror.

Then he smiled. "Mrs. Evans, I don't want a 'good lay'. I want to make love to a beautiful woman. If you still look that good, I want to see the original!"

I stared at him, speechless, then managed a smile. AI think it's still in good shape. If you'd like to come this way, sir."

I stood up and led the way into the sitting-room. Mike saw the sheepskin lying before the fire and glanced at me. I flushed again.

"I can still see the two of you in my mind, Mike. And I still get wet thinking about it." I managed a nervous gesture of some sort, and realised I had no idea how to proceed. "Mike, I don't know what to do next!" I said, agitated.

"Relax," he said, and came towards me. He paused about four feet away and studied me. I managed a faint smile and realised I was trembling.

Mike came closer. I reached out nervously and stroked his cheek.

"I can't keep on calling you 'Mrs. Evans', not in these circumstances," Mike said with a lopsided grin.

"Call me anything you wish, Mike. Kathleen, Kate, Kitty, I've answered to all of them at one time or another." Harlot and tramp fit just as well, Mike.

"Do you have a preference?" he asked.

"Kate," I said. Definitely Kate.

"Kate it is," he said, then stopped, shaking his head. "Kate, I can't do this. I can't betray Meg."

I smiled at him again, thinking 'Meg's a lucky girl, Mike'. I touched his hand. AI actually talked it over with Meg before she left," I said gently. "She said I could trust you and she'd let me borrow you until Sunday."

"Meg knows?" he was incredulous.

"Yes," I said. "I think she thought that at least this way you wouldn't be fucking one of her friends while she's away."

"Now, just hold on a minute! That's not my style!" He was upset.

"Sorry, Mike, bad joke." Come on, Mike, fuck me!

Mike laughed and I frowned. "What's so funny?"

"The title of a musical, it was on the late evening show last week. 'Kiss me Kate'."

I smiled, and put my arms around his neck. "What a good idea," I said, and raised my lips to his.

I was shaking, and he put his arms around me. The kiss was hesitant at first, exploring, gently finding out about each other. My tongue tip reached out tentatively and Mike sucked gently on it, then let his own tongue play with mine. I strained against him then, my arms tight about his neck, pulling him to me, pressing myself against him. He pulled slightly away from me as I felt his cock begin to stir. I moaned deep in my throat and he stroked my back as we kissed, letting his hands drift around my waist, then up, gently cupping my breasts. I nearly came then, just for the feel of a man's hands on my tits again.

I wanted more. Without breaking our kiss I took my arms from around his neck and unbuttoned my blouse, opening it to him before putting my arms around his neck again. He gently caressed my breasts through the bra. My nipples felt like rocks. He moved his hands behind me, feeling for my bra fastener.

I broke the kiss and buried my face in his neck. "It fastens at the front," I whispered. He brought his hands to the fastening and gently unhooked it, pushing the material aside, then cupping my breasts in his hands, lightly stroking the nipples with his thumbs. I couldn't help myself, I shuddered. He pushed the blouse and bra off my shoulders and I moved my arms to let them fall to the floor. Mike pulled his tee-shirt from the waistband of his jeans and quickly stripped it off over his head, then pulled me gently towards him again. I could feel the tickle of his chest hairs against my nipples, rigid against him.

He bent to kiss me again and again I moaned. He stroked my back, running his fingers lightly down my spine, then down, cupping my butt in his hands, then up, loosening the button at my waistband, sliding the zipper of my skirt down, down. I took my arms from his neck and dropped them to the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button, pushing the zipper down. I put my hand inside his pants and gasped involuntarily when I felt his cock, hot and hard.

He turned me around so that I had my back to him, cupping my breasts, kissing and nuzzling my neck. I reached behind me to find his cock, stroking gently. He slid his hands down over my belly and pushed my skirt down. I eased my ass away from him slightly to let it drop. He slid his hand down and into the front of my panties, down, over my pubic hair and let a finger probe gently at my cunt.

I was soaking, and he stroked me gently, letting his finger play with my clitoris. I nearly came on the spot, shuddering, then stepped away, turning to face him. I was breathing heavily, almost panting. God, I wanted him! I pushed my panties down and off, kicking them off along with my shoes. I reached to the fastenings of my stockings.

"Leave them on," Mike said hoarsely. I grinned, watching hungrily as he stripped off his jeans and shorts. I closed my eyes when I saw his erection, then sat down abruptly on the sheepskin. I didn't know if my legs would keep me upright any longer. I lay back, flinging my legs apart in abandon.

"Fuck me, Mike," I whispered. "Please, please, please, fuck me! Fuck me now!"

Mike knelt, then lowered himself until his cock was just at the entrance to my cunt, then pushed it straight into me. I screamed, I couldn't help myself, I was so ready, and came immediately, shaking violently. I don't know what made Mike do it that way, but it was just what I needed. A hot, hard prick deep in my cunt. We lay still, his cock still hard inside me, until my trembling eased, then he began long, slow strokes, pushing deep inside me, pulling back to the tip of his prick, then driving back into my cunt. I hooked my heels into the small of his back, urging him into me, my hands all over him, my head shaking from side to side.

I was muttering to myself, almost incoherent, urging him on. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Screw me, Mike. Let me feel you. Give me your cock, give me your come, fill my cunt, Mike, fill me full, fill me. Ride me, ride me hard. Oh, Mike, it's wonderful, I'd forgotten how good it is, it's been too long. Oh, God, it's been far too fucking long! Oh, Mike, give me your cock, give it to me hard! Fill me, Mike, fill me, sweetheart, fill me, fill my cunt with your cock."

"Soon, Kate, very soon," he gasped. "You're going to make me come, Kate, you're going to make me fill your cunt with my fuck-juice, Kate, you're going to . . make . . me . .c-o-o-m-e. Oh, shit! You have!" And he came, driving into me, burying himself up to his balls, shuddering to climax in his girlfriend's mother's cunt.

To Be Continued...


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