Chocolate Milk

"Could I offer you tea or coffee, Miss Hagen?" asked Mrs. Winsor.

"Coffee, please," said Alexandra Hagen.

"Lucie?" said Mrs. Winsor, turning to the young maid, who hurried out of the drawing room to urns on tables set up in the hall. "And tea for me, please."

"You have a beautiful home," said Alexandra. "I had no idea such places existed so near the city. And in an area that seems so wild, surrounded by forest and lakes."

"Yes, we are rather isolated here," said Mrs. Winsor. "But it suits me. I'm weary of the city, and it's a good place for my son - it calms him."

Lucie returned carrying a tray. She set it down on a low table next to the chair Alexandra sat in. "Sugar or cream, miss?", she said.

"A bit of sugar, please," Alexandra said, as Lucie poured the coffee and tea.

"Will there be anything else, ma'am?"

"No, thank you, Lucie, that will be all," Mrs. Winsor said. The girl made a little curtsy, then tripped out of the room.

"Sweet girl," said Alexandra. "Do I hear a bit of an accent?'

"She's Romanian," said Mrs. Winsor. "She came with her mother, who works as my cook. Yes, she is a nice girl."

Mrs. Winsor took a sip of her tea and then sat back and looked at Alexandra. "I daresay you're wondering why you're here," she said, smiling at Alexandra.

"Well, actually, yes," Alexandra said. "You contacted me through the email I use for my business, but your message was a bit, well, ambiguous - I might even say a little cryptic! In any event it intrigued me, as did your address. Before I arrived I admit I was expecting to be greeted by, well, by a gentleman,"

"Quite," said Mrs. Winsor, sipping her tea. "Yes, quite understandable, but no gentlemen live here, except for my son and old Mr. Fawkes who tends the gardens." She clasped her hands together and leaned forward, looking closely at Alexandra. "Nevertheless," she said, "it is in your professional capacity that you've been invited here."

Alexandra gave a short laugh. "You surely know what my business is, what I do for a living?" she said.

"Oh, indeed I do! You've been thoroughly vetted, one might say, by my social secretary Mrs. Atkins. We were particularly impressed by some of the articles you've written."

"Really! Well, I have to admit that I'm not often praised for my opinions on the subject."

"Yes, I know that, and I think it's entirely unfair! Yes, I'm in the minority, and I know about the prejudice that abounds, even among the privileged few such as those who raised me! But then I've always been the black sheep of the family."

She paused and sipped her tea, then went on.

"Even before reading your writings I was convinced that what you do is perfectly honest work, even necessary in many circumstances."

"Even if the work involves sex?" Alexandra asked quietly.

"Especially then!" asserted Mrs. Winsor. "I was so impressed that you insist on calling yourself a sex worker, rather than a 'prostitute'. Why is one person hired for a skill a valued employee or service provider, while another is an exploited prostitute?"

Alexandra opened her eyes wide in surprise as she drank her coffee. "Oh my," she said, "I'm not used to hearing my words being thrown back at me! It's like the choir preaching to the preacher!"

Mrs. Winsor laughed. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "It's just so rare that I get to vent like this to anybody. Even with my late husband, he was very open-minded, but whenever he used words like 'whore' I got livid! So unfair!"

"I'll drink to that," said Alexandra, lifting her cup. She put her cup down in its saucer. "Now, as to why I'm here. Are you looking for a woman who knows how to be with another woman? If so, I can recommend ..."

"Oh no, nothing like that," Mrs. Winsor said hastily. "Tell me, Alexandra - may I call you that?"

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you. Well, Alexandra, do you have children?"

"No, I don't. I'm not married, but of course that doesn't matter these days - but no."

"Yes, of course. Well, I have two. You're probably aware that children can be a blessing, but they can also be very trying! Tilda, my daughter, is married and gone off, far away, and like the old cliché I never hear from her! My son Christopher is still with me ... and probably will always be. He's what is sometimes offensively called 'special'."

Alexandra listened attentively, but said nothing.

"He's nineteen years old but has the mind of a child - a very young child. He's actually quite intelligent, but that intelligence has in some ways never matured. Things he's interested in are no problem for him - animals, the forest and the lake, numbers - he loves numbers! - and books, some books, anyway. But awareness of adult matters, relationships, future goals, he seems devoid of all of this."

Alexandra nodded. "Have doctors seen him?" she asked.

"Oh, doctors! Yes, of course, but they're as puzzled as I am. Some genetic abnormality, perhaps, they say. In fact," Mrs. Winsor said, clasping her hands together tightly, "they're not even certain as to how long he'll live!" She swallowed and fought back tears. Alexandra reached out and touched her knee gently. "He may die tomorrow or he may outlive me by many years! And frankly I don't know which is worse - I hate thinking of what would become of him without me to take care of him." She actually did begin to weep now.

Alexandra got up and sat next to her on the couch. She put her arm around the older woman's shoulders. "He's lucky to have someone who loves him so much," she said, doing her best to be comforting.

"Yes, I know," said Mrs. Winsor, trying to rally. She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and sat up straighter. "But I've resolved, you see, to do whatever I can to see that whatever life he does have will be as full as possible, as full and enjoyable as I can make it for him." She turned and looked straight at Alexandra. "I want him to experience pleasure, Alexandra. The pleasure of being with a woman."

Alexandra stared at her, stunned. She had not expected this!

"I know, I know this must shock you," the distraught mother went on. "But after reading what you've written, and now after talking with you here, I'm sure you're the kind of person who understands how deeply important sexual desire is for people, how it is part of what makes us human." She hesitated for a moment. "And," she went on slowly, "evidently you have skills."

Alexandra had to smile at this. "Yes, I suppose I do," she said softly. "Has he had any sexual experience at all?" she asked. "You know, by himself? Most boys do."

"Not as far as we can tell. I have often checked his sheets and underwear in the laundry - no sign at all."

Mrs. Winsor stood up and began to pace back and forth in front of the couch. "I've actually considered, you know, doing it myself! Oh, I know that sounds awful, but I've been at my wits end worrying about him! I thought about it but then decided that it wouldn't be at all appropriate - I mean, I am his mother, after all!"

"It's been known to happen," said Alexandra, "and sometimes I've been asked to pretend."

"Oh! Well, if Christopher wants to pretend that please don't tell me about it!" She covered her mouth and spun to face Alexandra. "Listen to me, assuming you've agreed to help me! And listen to me again trying to tell you your business! God, I'm so confused!" She sat down on the couch again and buried her face in her hands.

"First things first," said Alexandra. "Think we could meet Christopher?'

"What? Oh! Of course!" She opened the door to the hall and called out. "Lucie? Could you find Christopher, please? I don't know where he is."

*****

Lucie opened the door to let Christopher in. "He was talking to the little squirrels," she said, and left.

Christopher did in fact look very young for his nineteen years, as he stood before them in canvas shorts and a blue t-shirt. He was an inch shorter than Alexandra, and his face was grave but open and attentive. He appeared not to need to shave yet, for his cheeks were smooth with just a bit of youthful peach-fuzz. He was fair complected with dark, almost raven, hair, on the long side and slightly wavy. His eyes were a striking, deep blue, with long curved lashes - in fact, he could almost have been taken for a pretty girl, if not for the fact that his lean body was masculine and smoothly muscled.

"Say hello to our guest, Christopher," said his mother. "She's visiting us today."

Christopher was staring. "Chocolate milk!" he said suddenly, pointing at Alexandra.

"Christopher!" scolded Mrs. Winsor. "Where are your manners?"

For the fact was that Alexandra's skin was a warm, mocha color, the result of a happy union between her Norwegian father and Jamaican mother. Her long, black hair, parted in the middle, was very wavy, and could be positively kinky when she let it. She was tall, with an athletic yet voluptuous figure, and the lips beneath her straight nose were sensuously full. Her large, deep brown eyes sparkled as she smiled at him now, her teeth a brilliant white.

"It's all right, Mrs. Winsor," she said softly to the boy's mother. She turned back to him. "I like chocolate milk, Christopher! Do you like it too?"

He looked at her, his eyes wide. Then he broke into a smile. "Yes, it's my favorite!"

"So good, isn't it? So sweet!"

"Yes, sweet, it is!"

"Well, I'm very glad to meet you Christopher. My name is Alexandra." She held out her hand.

Christopher stared at it for a moment then shyly grasped it. "Hello, Alexad ... Alanax ..."

"You can call me Alex, Christopher. That's a lot easier, isn't it?"

He nodded slowly. "Alex ... yes."

"Well, I'd like to get to know you, Christopher. Would you like to be friends with me?"

His eyes widened. "Friends? You'll be my friend? I would like to, yes."

She smiled at him, struck and a bit saddened by the realization that he really had no friends at all, save for the people he lived with. Maybe that was enough? Who knows; she doubted it.

After Lucie came to fetch him and take him to the kitchen for a snack, Alexandra and Mrs. Winsor chatted for a while.

"So, what do you think, Alexandra? We can try it just for the summer, if you like. His tutor, Miss Fenwick, will be on vacation."

"Well, it's certainly not like anything I've ever done before ... but yes, I think I would enjoy spending some time with Christopher."

"Oh, I'm so glad! We need to discuss details, of course. To begin with, if I'm not being too intrusive, could you tell me how much you make in your present work, just a round figure?"

Alexandra was surprised at the directness of the question, but gave an answer - it was an honest answer, if just a little inflated.

"Is that all?" said Mrs. Winsor. "Well, I'll double that, at least! And we'll want you to live here, we've got lots of lovely rooms to choose from."

"Well, that might be a problem - I share an apartment with a roommate, and I'm responsible for half the rent ..."

"Oh, I'll pay for that too, of course! Please say you'll stay!"

"You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Winsor," Alexandra joked, "but yes - I'll do it!"

"Oh, I'm so pleased! I'm 'Prue', by the way; short for 'Prunella', which I hate! Come, I'll show you around."

As they walked past the kitchen Prue called into the cook. "Set another place for dinner, Mrs. Bibrova. For the entire summer, in fact!"

*****

Some days later after settling in Alex was with Christopher in his room, which he had insisted on showing her. This was a good opportunity, she felt, to begin sounding him out so that she could decide how best to become more intimate with him. After he had shown her his collection of the animal pictures he had taken himself she noticed that he was looking at her curiously as she sat next to him on his bed.

"Mommy has those, too!" he said pointing at her bust. "But they're littler than yours."

Okay, she thought to herself - a good place to start!

"Do you know what they're called, Christopher?" He shook his head. "They're called breasts, and all ladies have them."

"Breasts," he said quietly, still staring at her chest.

"Have you ever seen your Mommy's breasts, Christopher?"

"No, but I can see how they move around in her shirt."

Oh, I'm sure you saw them at some point, Alex thought to herself - too long ago to remember, though.

"Would you like to see mine, Christopher? Would you like to see my breasts?"

He looked up at her. "Yes, please," he said, nodding shyly. "You're bigger than Mommy."

"All right," Alex said, "you just sit there and watch me." She stood up and faced him, and slowly unbuttoned her blouse. She removed it and put it on a chair behind her, and stood in front of him in her black brassiere as he stared up at her. She was watching him closely, to judge his reaction.

"You have a funny thing on!" he laughed, pointing.

"Yes, it's a special kind of shirt that ladies wear on their breasts," she said. "I'm going to take it off now ..." She reached behind her and unclasped the bra, then slipped it off down her arms. She put it on the chair with the blouse and stood in front of the boy with her hands held behind her back. Her light brown breasts were high and firm, full globes tipped with prominent dark chocolate nipples. She took a step closer to the bed, her ample breasts naked above Christopher's upturned face.

"Do you like them, Christopher?" she asked softly. "Do you like looking at my breasts?" She moved slightly to make them sway and bounce gently. He was looking up at her with wide-eyed fascination, his lips slightly parted. His manner was less playful now, she felt, more intent. She hoped other kinds of feelings were rising in him.

She cupped her breasts with her hands and lifted them slightly. "Would you like to touch them, Christopher? Would you like to touch my breasts?" She ran her hands slowly over them, squeezing gently.

"Yes, please." His voice was almost inaudible. He seemed mesmerized.

So far, so good, she thought. She looked at his lap - no sign there yet. No matter, plenty of time for that.

She sat down on the bed and turned to him. She took his hands and pulled them to her breasts, one hand on each, coaxing him to squeeze and move them from side to side. He stared down at his hands on her, squeezing her firm flesh and rubbing his thumbs over her erect nipples.

"Do you like that, Christopher? Do you like feeling my breasts?" He looked up at her and nodded, then back down at his exploring hands. She considered asking him to kiss and suck her nipples, but decided to leave that for some time later. "I like it when you squeeze my breasts, Christopher. I like how it feels."

"Me too, I ... I like it. They feel nice."

"Here, try lifting them, Christopher." She took his hands and positioned them underneath and on the sides of her breasts. Then she raised her arms and grasped the back of her neck, pushing her chest forward. "Go ahead, sweetie, lift them up and down while you squeeze them." He did as he was told, staring avidly at her dark brown nipples.

"Oh my, you are so strong! You're doing a really good job!" He nodded and bit his lower lip, never removing his eyes from her breasts in his hands. Alexandra smiled, pleased at how this was going. He may have a child-like mind, but his nineteen-year-old male hormones seem to be flowing just fine!

"Well, that's all for now, Christopher," she said. "Maybe we can do some more later when I tuck you into bed tonight." She took his hands and lowered them down to his lap, in the process brushing her fingertips between his legs. Oh yes, there seems to be something happening there!

"You're going to tuck me in? Mommy does that mostly."

"Well, we're going to give Mommy a little rest, is that okay? We're going to do all sorts of things together, since we're friends now!"

"Okay. Can I ... can I touch your breasts again later?"

"Of course, I'll let you touch me all over! And maybe I'll touch you, too - would you like that?"

"Oh yes, I want you to touch me!"

"I will, Christopher, we'll be touching friends. That'll be fun, won't it?"

"Yes!"

*****

Later in the evening Alexandra undressed and put on a scarlet satin dressing robe, and returned to Christopher's bedroom.

"Hello, Christopher - may I come in?"

"Hi Alex! Are you going to tuck me in now?" He was already in bed, looking at a picture book about squirrels. He was wearing lightweight cotton pajamas with blue and white stripes. It was a warm night, so only a sheet covered him.

"Yes, our first tucking in!" She moved to the bed and sat down next to him. Smiling, she took the book from him and put it on his night table. She had adjusted her robe so that considerable cleavage was showing between her full breasts. His eyes were fixed there now, as she had anticipated they would be.

"You're looking at my breasts, Christopher! Would you like to see them again?"

"Yes, please," he said without looking up. "I like to look at your breasts."

"All right," she said. "I'm glad you like to look." She started to undo the sash of her robe, but then paused. "Could I look at you, too, Christopher? While you look at me?"

"Oh, yes, you can look at me!" He lay in the bed grinning up at her.

Alexandra smiled, and lifted the sheet covering him, moving it down to below his waist. She undid the buttons of his pajama top and spread it open, then gently pinched the loose fabric of the bottoms. "Could you lower these," she asked, "so I can see you better?"

"Oh, okay!" he said, undoing the sash of his pajamas and quickly wriggling them down to his knees. "There!"

Alexandra looked down at his nude body. Oh my, she thought to herself, now look at that! His body was indeed that of a lovely nineteen-year-old boy. Below his flat stomach was a sparse patch of dark pubic hair, under which a penis of surprising length and girth was nestled between his smooth thighs.

"Oh, that's much better!" she said, grinning back at him. "Now watch me, Christopher ..." She slowly undid her robe and let it fall from her shoulders. She cupped her hands under her naked breasts and lifted them, offering them to his eager gaze. "Do you like that, Christopher? Do you like how my breasts look?"

"Yes ... I like them, yes ..."

As she gently kneaded her breasts, exposing herself to him, she glanced down between his legs. Oh yes, she thought to herself, I can see you like them all right, and so does your sweet manhood! His penis was stirring, showing definite signs of the beginning of an erection. He seemed oblivious to it as he stared, transfixed by the display she was offering him.

"And would you like touch them again, Christopher? Go ahead ... I want you to." She leaned over him so that he could easily reach up and take her breasts in his hands. He seemed to be fascinated by her dark brown nipples, which he gently pinched between his thumb and forefinger. "You like my nipples, Christopher?"

"Nipples?" he said, puzzled, while continuing to play with them.

"Yes, those are my nipples."

"Like with a ... a ..."

"Yes, like on a baby's bottle!" she said, with a giggle. "Be my little baby, Christopher, lick them and suck them ..."

She bent a bit lower to make it easier for him to reach her without raising his head from the pillow. With his hands still grasping her breasts he took her right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and then sucking on it. With a little gasp of excitement he switched to the left and sucked it eagerly.

"Ooh, that's so nice," she cooed, and gently caressed his hips and the sides of his body. As he went back and forth between her breasts she reached down and ran her fingers up his legs very close to his lengthening penis. He whimpered with a frustration he didn't understand and continued sucking feverishly on her breasts.

"Mmm that feels so good, Christopher," she whispered. "I like it when you do that. Do you like sucking me?" She kept her eyes on his penis, which was now half erect. She continued to tantalize him with fingertips brushing along his inner thighs and his stomach, but never quite touching his erection.