Idle Hands

"Not really," he gasped, as his hard cock appeared. She cradled it lovingly in her hands, softly rubbing. He closed his eyes. "I didn't dare. You're gorgeous, obviously. But I wouldn't have dreamed of making a move on you."

"Well," she smiled, her heart singing. "Let's make sure I give you a proper send-off."

She pushed his knees apart with her hands, bending her head down. Part of her was a little disappointed by his length. Don't be greedy, girl. They can't all be Josh. And he's thick enough to do the job. But the rest of her mind and body was caught up in a firestorm of lust. She caught his cock-tip in her mouth, shuddering in pleasure. She swirled her tongue around the sensitive glans, smiling as Jeremy writhed under her touch, his hands clutching the arm-rests of the chair.

God, I've needed this. It's been too long. She bobbed on his shaft. Her mind glazed, her body demanding his submission, his seed.

Thirsty. I'm so thirsty. I need his come. His salty, wonderful semen. It will make me strong. Powerful. She slipped off her blouse and unclasped her bra, letting her breasts fall free. She groaned as her sensitive areolae grazed his legs. Almost immediately, her nipples contracted and thickened, drawing into hard, turgid buds on her chest. She moved closer to him, grabbed his hands, and placed them on her breasts. Taking the hint immediately, he began to caress her firm mounds, driving her pleasure even higher. She let her hands fall to his thighs, bracing her, and her hair fell around her face, hiding his groin.

"Mmmmm," she said, moaning around his stiff length as she slurped up and down his rod. His taste was intoxicating, a combination of male musk, clean sweat, and an unidentifiable odor which was his own. She raised her head, one hand slowly fisting him while her mouth labored on his cock-head, licking the slow seepage away from his slit, delighting in her feeling of dominance and control.

~Yes, that's it. Make him ours. He'll be at our call whenever we need him. And so young! He'll be able to satisfy us over and over!~

Rachel frowned as the triumphant voice sounded in her head. Us? Who is us? But her thoughts were cut off by Jeremy's hoarse voice and the twitching cock in her hand.

"Ms. Wainwright, please. I'm about to..I'm going to..."

She immediately drew back, her lips separating from the red head of his prick with an audible pop. With the fingers of one hand, she circled the base of his shaft, squeezing hard. "Oh, no you don't. You're not getting away that easy. You are going to come inside me. But not my mouth." She glared up at him until the spasming muscles of his cock slowly relaxed. "Good."

She stood and hiked up her skirt. Slowly, wriggling her hips in a conscious display of eroticism, she slid her panties down her legs until they lay abandoned on the floor. She strutted over to the window and placed her hands flat on the glass. Bending over, she thrust her rear in the air and pulled up her skirt, exposing her naked ass and wet, pouting pussy-lips.

"Now," she commanded. "Sink that lovely cock into me, Jeremy. Fill me up with your prick. Shoot your come into me!"

As if in a trance, wearing only his white work shirt and his tie, her intern made his way over to her. She smiled and let her head sink as she felt his hands settle on her hips. For the smallest moment she felt the tip of his tool rest against her soaking cleft, then with a mighty shove he buried herself inside her.

Yes!

~Yes!~

"Yes," she moaned, bracing her hands on the glass, her unfocused eyes looking out over the lake. "That is so good." After an eternity of celibacy, the muscles of her vagina eagerly grasped Jeremy's invading cock, milking his hard length as he plunged into her over and over again. She humped back towards him, forcing him harder into her with every stroke. His cock rubbed on her clit, sawing against it, sending her skyward joyfully.

She closed her eyes, living in a world of pure sensation. The entire universe seemed to contract until it consisted of her body and Jeremy's hands on her hips and his rock-hard shaft, every stroke feeling like a blessing. She felt him sag towards her, gathering her breasts in his cupped hands, kneading her inflamed flesh gently. Moisture trickled down her thighs, mixing with her sweat. Her legs shook under the strain, but she kept herself erect, feeding the pool of lust which boiled in her loins.

She felt the approaching wave of her climax and opened her eyes, staring blankly out over the lake. Suddenly her eyes opened wide in shock. For an instant she thought she had seen three people reflected in the glass. Herself, Jeremy, laboring over her, and a third. She blinked and looked again. Yes, there she was, fading in and out of her vision like a mirage in the desert. A tall blond woman, completely nude, impossibly beautiful, with a sweet, angelic face and an incredible, ripe body. Even Rachel, who aside from a few drunken episodes in college was steadfastly heterosexual, could feel her erotic pull.

She whipped her head around, staring, but the room was empty aside from Jeremy and herself. She looked back into the window and saw the woman again. She lifted a ghostly hand, caressing Rachel's back in a long, slow stroke that started at her buttocks and ended at her neck. Rachel's flesh prickled under her touch and she arched her back, shuddering. Her nipples hardened further, contracting into stiff, knotty buttons.

~Arise, my handmaiden. Be thou blessed. I, Althea, claim thee for my own, to be my disciple as long as thy life shall last.~

Once, when Rachel was a small child, she and her parents had taken a trip to Florida. She had been playing in the ocean when a wave hit her unexpectedly, knocking her to her knees. The whispered words had the same effect. A rushing tide of power seemed to fill her, waking a fire in her belly. She spread her legs, feeling her orgasm draw near.

"Now," she said, her teeth clenched. Her words seemed to throb with strength. "Come for me, Jeremy. Fill me up. Give me your come. Come with me now!"

With the final word, Jeremy gave a strangled gasp and collapsed across her back, though his hips continued to pump into her. She keened, trying to keep her cry of passion in check, even as her orgasm crashed over her, muscles clenching and releasing in her thighs, her belly, her womb. She could dimly feel Jeremy's cock throb within her, sending torrents of his come deep inside her. Over and over, until it seemed there would be no end to it, his hot seed filling up her eager vessel.

Finally the spasms stopped. They stood still, kept from collapse only by Rachel's hands, still braced sweatily on the glass of the window. Jeremy pried himself off her back to the sound of sweat sliding over their joined skins. His face, when she met his gaze, was suffused by awe.

"That was..." he shook his head. "I've never felt anything like that. Ever. Thank you."

She smiled and patted his cheek fondly, then dropped to her knees and took his prick into her mouth. She licked it until it was completely clean, the taste better than the finest wine to her eager taste-buds.

"You're welcome," she said, when his cock, shining wetly, had returned to its place between his legs. She picked up her bra and blouse and began dressing, filled with a deep, satisfied languor. After a few awkward moments, Jeremy joined her.

When they were both dressed, he looked at her hopefully. "Can I see you again?" he asked.

She raised her eyebrows and gave him a lopsided smile. "I'm seventeen years older than you, Jeremy, and have two grown children. And I am not looking to start a new relationship. But," she continued, as she saw his face crease with hurt, "that doesn't mean we can't be part of each others' lives. Do you have any plans for Memorial Day weekend?"

"Weekend after this?" Jeremy asked. "Mom and Dad and me will be going to my sister's place in Deerfield that Monday. She and her husband invited us for a meal. And I'll get to see my baby niece again."

"Me and the kids will be staying in town," Rachel said. "Why don't you come on over on Sunday? My daughter is a great cook. She wants to be a chef. She's nineteen years old," she said, hinting outrageously, "and she doesn't have a boyfriend."

"Are you trying to fix me up with your daughter?" he asked suspiciously.

"Yes," she answered, putting on her jacket and gathering up her laptop. "She is attractive, near your own age, intelligent and a genuinely good person, if a mother may be allowed an opinion." She nodded toward a framed picture of Sarah on her wall.

"Besides," she said, her eyes glinting wickedly, "it gives you an excuse to see me, doesn't it? Or would you rather we never meet again?

"All right then," she said, taking his flustered silence for assent. "I'll text you the details later in the week. I look forward to seeing you."

*****

It's not enough, she thought as she drove home on I-90. She had parted with Jeremy in front of the bar, handing him the bottle of scotch and giving him a firm handshake in farewell. He had been the only person who could see how her blood heated at his touch.

He's not the answer. Not a permanent one. I need more. And I know where to get it.

I just have to convince him. And not get into a fight.

She hit the speed dial on her phone and was soon rewarded by the sound of her ex-husband's voice.

"Hello, Rachel."

"Hi, Josh. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay." After an uncomfortable pause, he continued. "I'm putting together a new show for next month. Several carved wood and cast bronze nudes, as well as some other stuff."

Rachel chuckled, shaking her head. She and Josh Sunderman had met when she was a freshman and he was a sophomore at the University of Illinois. She had been a political science major, already thinking about law school. He had been in the College of Fine and Applied Arts, and had two major shows under his belt by the time he was twenty.

Despite having practically nothing in common in their background, they had fallen in love almost immediately. They had been married, a little tardily, during the summer after her freshman year. Alex had been born when she was a sophomore, Sarah during her first year of post-graduate study. To his everlasting credit, Josh had done more than his fair share of taking care of the children while Rachel labored her way through law school. With the help of his parents, who had abandoned their flower-child youth to found a successful clothing business (specializing in tie-dye, of course) they had each graduated on time, and in Rachel's case, summa cum laude.

Their marriage had been happy for years, until it had foundered on the twin rocks of Rachel's ever-increasing workload and her plans for their children. Josh had never shied away from the fact that he thought the kids should be able to choose their own futures. For her part, Rachel had grown uncomfortable with Josh's habit of choosing ever-more outrageous subjects for his artwork, no matter how good the reviews were or how much money he brought in.

"You never change, do you Josh?" Rather than bitter, the words were fond. "What will the good people of Bolivia think?"

"It's Peru, Rachel. And that joke was bad the first time you made it." Following their divorce, Josh had moved to a small town only about an hour from Woodridge, but it might as well have been in a different century. "Small" was one word to describe it.

Also, rural, bucolic, and boring as hell.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your voice?" he said, and she could hear his smile through the phone. The sound alone made her squirm in her seat. Despite the fantastic fucking Jeremy had just given her, she felt a renewed warmth in her secret core.

He could always turn me on.

"I was wondering if you might like to come up for a visit," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "The kids miss you. And...I do, too," she finished in a rush. "And I'd like your help with Sarah and Alex. The time has come for them to get serious about their futures. We've put it off for too long. If we delay any longer, it might be too late."

When Josh spoke again, his voice was tight with disapproval. "We've had this conversation before, Rachel. I'm not going to browbeat my children into doing what they don't want to do. If Alex wants to be an actor, or a fry cook, or a sanitation worker, that's his choice."

"I completely agree," Rachel said calmly.

"Furthermore, you can't...

"Wait. What? Did you just say you agreed with me?"

"Yep," she said, grinning like a loon. It wasn't often she caught Josh off-balance. She was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

"I've changed my mind. Admitted I was wrong. I can't keep on trying to stuff a round peg into a square hole as far as Alex is concerned. And Sarah is even worse. She won't even argue. It's very unfair," she pouted.

"Although," she continued, letting her voice go low and sultry, "if you've got a round peg you'd like to pound into me...I wouldn't mind. I miss you, honey," she said. "What do you say to trying to make it work again? I've got this big-ass house, and the kids are going to be gone soon.

"Come up next weekend," she wheedled. "We can have a nice long visit, and we can hash things out with the kids. Sarah won't be hard. Just have her apply to Le Cordon Bleu and watch her take off. She's a damn good cook. She'll probably have her own restaurant by the time she's thirty-five. Maybe earlier. With Alex we'll need to set up some interviews with acting schools. He might prefer to get a place downtown. I'll need your help."

Her ex-husband barked a laugh into the phone. "Christ, Rachel, you don't do things by halves, do you? What the hell has gotten into you?"

"No one you know," she grinned, and he laughed again.

~Truly.~

"What do you say? See you Friday evening?"

"Sure," he said. "Why not? I've got to see the looks on their faces when you spring this on them. That alone would be worth the trip."

"Oh, I'll make it worth it in other ways," she promised, shifting in her seat. Already she could imagine the feel of his strong hands on her skin, how he filled her up when she took him from above.

"All right, sweetheart," he said. "I've got a few things to take care of. You can tell the kids I'll be there Friday afternoon. I'll be in touch if there's any change. Love you."

"Love you, too," she said, her voice breaking at the end. She hit the disconnect button and swiped happy, horny tears away from her cheeks.

*****

She arrived home twenty minutes later. Dropping her keys on the table, she went upstairs to her bedroom to change. Stripping off her clothes, she found herself admiring her rear in the mirror. Her hands grazed over her skin, and she sighed as she fingertips skimmed over the tiny, baby-fine hairs on her ass-cheeks. The muscles of her buttocks were slightly sore from the pounding Jeremy had given her, and her skin bore a slight flush from the top of her thighs to the base of her spine.

She went back downstairs and discovered the kids on the back deck, sipping beer and grilling steaks.

"Mmmm," she sighed, inhaling the fragrant aroma. "That smells great. What do we have to go along with it, Sarah?"

"An awesome brussel sprout dish," her daughter replied cheerfully. "Baked with onions, hot peppers, and bacon. And twice-baked potatoes. And garlic bread."

"Sounds fantastic. I've got some good news," she said, gathering Sarah into a sideways hug. Her body was warm and firm against her own. Alex looked on bemusedly. Behind them, fat dripped onto the coals, sending up gouts of flame and steam. She turned her head and whispered into her daughter's ear, her words hot with promise.

"Daddy's coming home."

End of Part One