Idle Hands Ch. 03

"I do," he said, laying burgers on the grill with a sizzle. A tantalizing aroma rose and wafted over the deck. He sat down beside his wife and leaned in for a kiss. "It doesn't make it any less true."

"Miss Wainwright tells me you're an artist, sir," Jeremy said.

"For the love of God, Jeremy, call me Rachel. I'm not your boss anymore."

"I am," her father said, answering his question. He raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue.

"And that you do a lot of work in...adult themes?"

"I do," Joshua said. "It's gotten me into trouble sometimes. And not just by the so-called arbiters of moral authority and good taste." He cast a sardonic look at Rachel, and Sarah bit her lip.

Oh, please, not another fight.

But her mother simply smiled and raised her wineglass, conceding the point.

Shit. Are they actually not going to argue about this? Wow.

"An artist..." her father trailed off, then picked up the thread of his thought. "Any hack can make art that doesn't offend anybody. Think about every boy-band or flash in the pan pop-star you can name. Nice catchy tunes, forgotten in six months. But there's a reason why Mozart is remembered, and Salieri isn't.

"A true artist challenges people. Makes them sit up and question what they have always been taught was true, or acceptable." As he became caught up in the conversation, he leaned forward, his head looming over his large hands, which were folded on the table. Sarah eyed them covetously, wondering how they would feel on her skin. "Yes, some of what I've done is sexual in nature. But I've also done a lot that was political. I caught holy hell when I did a show after 9/11 that was critical of the government."

"Oh, crap, I remember that one," said her mother, with a shake of her head. "I thought we were going to have to move, people were so pissed. 'How dare he criticize the President?'" she mocked.

"And I've done religious work, as well," he continued. "Some of it was to keep food on the table. I've worked for the Catholic Church. But once I was established enough to do what I wanted, I've done a lot more that was specifically designed to anger the religious establishment.

"For example," he said, slanting his eyes at his wife, "A certain painting about Mary, Joseph, and Jesus."

Sarah jumped in, explaining to Jeremy's confused look, "Daddy did a painting for a show last Christmas. It showed..." she swallowed and continued firmly. "It showed Mary giving Joseph a blow-job, while Baby Jesus was watching."

Rachel tightened her lips, but kept silent. "Oh," Jeremy said. His lips crooked in a smile. "Yeah, that would aggravate some people."

"Some people," Joshua said, "Thought I was doing it just to piss people off. To stoke up outrage and controversy and get people to come to my show to see what the fuss was all about.

"That wasn't what I was doing." Then he caught his wife's cocked eyebrow and amended, "Okay, that wasn't all I was doing. I also wanted to start a conversation about Mary. In some parts of the world, like South America or Spain or Italy, she has achieved a cult-like status. Almost like a goddess. But we have to remember a few things. Even if all the legends about her are true, she was still a young woman with a husband. Presumably, a husband who loved her very much, to not put her aside after she claimed to be carrying the son of God.

"I was trying to humanize her," he said, getting up to flip the burgers and brush on some barbeque sauce. Grease dripped and small bursts of flame sprang up where they dropped. Almost absently, Sarah noticed that Alex and Maria had joined them on the deck and were listening quietly. "Think abut it. She must have been a very lovable person. In that time, any other woman would have been cast out and shunned for having a child out of wedlock. Joseph stood by her, even though she must have seemed to be a lunatic. I'm not saying it was because she was so good at oral sex. But she must have had some amazing qualities. I was trying to show that, in my own clumsy way. There is only so much you can do in oils and paints. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but you can't make your subjects talk."

"You do sculptures, too," her mother pointed out. "Even cast your own bronze. Hard work, and dangerous with the forge in the workshop."

"I do," her father said, putting on the hot dogs and the brats. "Not easy, though, as you said. That side of it never came easy for me. You're working in three dimensions, rather than just two. And you can't just prepare another canvas and start over if you screw up a sculpture. But I wanted to stretch myself."

"So what do you think about Mary and Joseph and Jesus, Daddy?" Sarah asked, trying to steer the conversation back to the original subject.

"I try not to, anymore," he said. "Religion is like the middle rail on the El, Sarah. You touch it, you get hurt."

*****

The meal was over, and they were all sitting around the table, comfortably full. The last light of the sun was fading, the western sky slowly turning from orange to a dark, cobalt blue. The conversation had been good, the food fantastic, the weather delightful. During the meal, Sarah had felt Jeremy's presence like a warm touch on her skin. Even when he was talking to her father or Alex or Maria, she knew his attention was on her.

And hers was on him. She ached to take him in her arms, to ravage his lovely mouth with a kiss, to peel his clothes off, regardless of who might be watching.

She jumped as her mother stood and tapped her fork against her wineglass, making it chime sweetly.

"Family, friends," she said. "W have happy news." She looked around the table with a smile. "The past few years have not been easy for us," she continued, looking at her children. "For any of us, but especially you. You have had to grow up more quickly than we would have liked, because your parents couldn't be trusted to act like adults." Her voice held more than a tinge of self-mockery.

"Sarah, Alex, your father and I are getting back together. Permanently. I asked him to marry me. Again. And he said yes. Again."

Sarah and Maria broke into shrieks of joy, and leaped up to embrace Rachel. Alex, for his part, grinned from ear to ear and shook his father's hand. At Rachel's nod, Josh poured out a round of wine for everyone at the table.

"No, I have no idea when the ceremony is going to be," Rachel said, answering Maria's excited questions. "Not too long, though." Her eyes were hot as they rested on her husband. "We can't go on living in sin like this. It sets a terrible example for the youngsters."

Jeremy laughed, though it seemed more than a little forced to Sarah. "Congratulations, Rachel. Sir," he said, nodding to each of them. Sarah narrowed her gaze, looking him over. His smile seemed genuine, but she caught a hint of hurt in his eyes.

He had sex with Mom. She couldn't explain how she knew, but she was instantly certain. There was no other explanation for his reaction, the slightly proprietary air. And the way he was so cautious around her father, as if he was afraid to offend him.

Hah. Well, good. Now that Mom is getting remarried, he'll know that she is off limits, and he'll pay more attention to me.

~Really, Sarah? Have you stopped looking at your father, just because he and your mother will be remarrying?~ The voice in her head was quietly sarcastic, and Sarah flushed guiltily. In fact, while the lion's share of her attention had been on Jeremy, she had not been able to entirely keep her eyes off her handsome father, even as he and her mother had made their renewed affection for each other transparently obvious.

She stood abruptly, reaching for the plates. "Let me start cleaning up here," she said. "We should get this food in the fridge before the bugs come out."

"I'll help you," Jeremy said, standing as well. He filled his hands and followed her into the house.

She walked slowly, letting her hips sway in a seductive strut, knowing his eyes were on her ass. When they were alone in the kitchen, the food put away, he cleared his throat. "Are you going out with anyone right now?"

"No," she replied with a smile. "Why do you ask?" she said, stepping close to him. She could feel his male heat as she backed him against the kitchen island.

"Well," he said, "I really liked talking to you tonight, and I was wondering if you might like to hang out some night. Maybe this Friday?" he said, his voice squeaking higher as she closed the last distance between them. Her thighs brushed his, and her eyes widened slightly as she felt his hardness against her hip. She closed her eyes against a rush of desire, wanting nothing more than to pull down his shorts, hike up her skirt and pleasure herself on his pole.

"Friday's not good for me," she said. "My dirtbag brother is going to be in a play at COD, and it's opening night. Of course, you can come with us if you want. But why wait?" she murmured softly, laying a hand on his chest. Her fingers deftly undid the top button of his shirt, allowing her hand to slide inside and caress his skin. "We both know what we want. My bedroom is upstairs, and everyone else is going to be busy down here for a while. We can go upstairs and fuck, find out if we're a good match, and be back down here before anyone knows it.

"You've got two choices," she said, her voice low. "We can go out on Friday, do the whole 'dinner and a play' thing. Talk on the phone, send text messages, go for a romantic walk along Lake Michigan, yadda yadda yadda. And in three or four weeks, you can be where we are right now, with me about to drag you off to bed. Or we can start right away.

"So, what's it going to be, boy? Yes or no?"

*****

As Sarah and Jeremy left the deck, Rachel cleared her throat, drawing Maria's attention.

"I'd like to see the two of you in my office. Now."

Maria stood immediately. Although the request was phrased politely, it held the unmistakable tone of a command. She walked to Rachel's office, aware of her master behind her, and Rachel following them both. She kept her head down, her pose obedient. Alex had promised her time to themselves this evening, if he was pleased with her behavior. Although the details had remained vague, she had caught a dark hint in his eyes which had made her shiver in happy anticipation.

They entered Rachel's office and she closed the door firmly behind her. "Sit," she told Alex, pointing to a chair.

Her master sat. Rachel cocked an eyebrow at him inquiringly.

"Maria," he said. "Kneel. Here beside me."

She hastened to comply, feeling the rug under her knees. She folded her hands in her lap, her head lowered respectfully.

"So," she heard Rachel drawl slowly. "I wasn't sure. She has accepted you as her master?" The tone was politely curious.

A short pause. "She has." Alex's voice was just the slightest bit challenging. "And I have accepted her as my submissive."

Rachel sighed. "Oh, well," she said, settling behind her desk. Maria looked up through her lashes, hoping to catch a glimpse of her slender legs, but her view was blocked. "You snooze, you lose. I had the chance to make Maria mine. But I hesitated, and now I find that you have taken my place in her heart."

Maria's head snapped up. "Mistress!" she protested. "That is not true! I care for Alex, my master, very much, but..." she trailed off as they bent their eyes upon her. Alex looked surprised by the interruption, Rachel gently amused.

"You cannot have two masters, Maria," Rachel said. Her voice was kind but firm. "What if our commands to you conflict? That would put you in an impossible situation. I know you claimed me as your mistress last week. But I did not, in turn, claim you. To my regret." She leaned back in her chair and eyed her son. "I knew there was something you were keeping from me. I wish you would have trusted me enough to talk about it. A need for control in a relationship is nothing to be ashamed of. As I know," she grimaced.

Alex shrugged with one shoulder, his face carefully closed. "It's not something I wanted to discuss, Mom." He let his hand trail over Maria's braid, a casual sign of ownership.

"Indeed." Her voice was quiet. "Still, I think I have a prior claim. And I did make her a promise," she said. "You will understand soon, Alex. But my....appetites...have increased lately. Changed. Things I would have never considered before no longer seem so terrible." She stood and walked around the desk, then, shockingly, sat on her son's lap. She sighed contentedly as his arms came around her in startled reflex.

"Did you know, sweetheart, that your sister has the hots for your father? I'm still trying to figure out what to do about that," she said, as Alex shook his head in reflexive denial. "Still," she said, her voice low and breathy, "I've also realized what an attractive young man you are yourself. And why should your father be the one having all the fun?

"I would never dream of coming between what you and Maria have," she continued. As Maria watched, dumbfounded, she looped her arms around her son's neck, her fingers playing with his hair, her body curving against him, warm and pliant. "But I might want to share. Share you both.

"Here is my proposal. Maria will remain your submissive. I make no claim on her personally. However, I would have you both acknowledge me as Mistress of the Household. Which means, Maria," she said, looking down at her, "That while Alex will remain your master, and I will not override his wishes, I might ask you to share my bed. Or I might ask him to share mine."

"Mom, this is insane," Alex gasped. His hands were trembling where they rested on Rachel's waist, but Maria could sense his fierce arousal. And Rachel could sense it too, if the way she happily squirmed in Alex's lap was any indication. "What if Dad comes in? Or Sarah?"

"You worry too much," Rachel said, a smile playing across her lips. "I'll talk things over with your father. Once I explain the benefits to him, I'm sure he'll come around. And poor little Sarah is so horny she's about to burst. If she doesn't get what she wants from Jeremy, she'll take it from someone else. Maybe her father. Maybe you. Why should we all settle for one lover, when we can have two or three?

"But the only question to be settled here and now is whether you accept my offer."

Alex looked down and met her eyes. His own were adorably confused. "Maria?"

"I will do as you wish, Master," she said softly. Daring greatly, she looked Rachel in the eye. "But I desire this. Very much. And I think you do as well."

"She is wise, sweetheart. If I might make a suggestion, you would do well to listen to her where matters of the heart are concerned. It seems she has no problem with this arrangement. Do you?"

Suddenly Alex grinned, the expression as beautiful as a sunrise. Maria gasped at his sudden change of mood. "Personally, I think you're out of your mind, and I don't see how this doesn't end in an epic blowout. But I think you're both beautiful and sexy as hell. Sure. Why not? Mistress of the Household it is.

"But know this, Mom," his voice was suddenly hard and grim, and Maria looked at him in surprise. "If you mistreat Maria in any way, there will be hell to pay."

"Mistreat a treasure like her? I would sooner take a vow of chastity. Now kiss me, dear, to seal the deal."

She lifted her face up to his. Maria nearly laughed to see the tiny woman, almost dwarfed by her tall son. She looked like a child in his lap. But when their lips touched, all thoughts of laughter fled her mind.

Dios mio, they're beautiful. And she is no child. Rachel flowed into her son, her body seeming to meld with his, until their wasn't room to slip a sheet of paper between them. Rachel's clever mouthed worked on Alex until he was red-faced and trembling. Maria watched, entranced, as Alex's muscles bunched under his shirt, and knew he was fighting with every morsel of his being to keep from exploring his mother's body even further. She felt a hand on her breast, squeezing gently, and was unsurprised to find it was her own. A wave of heat boiled down through her groin, and she clamped her lips shut on a moan as she watched them avariciously.

When they parted, Rachel's eyes were gleaming with more than simple desire. There was pride, as well. "Well, it seems you have learned some clever tricks along the way," she said, slipping out of his embrace. She held out a hand and raised Maria to her feet, unmindful of the way her t-shirt was pulled up over her breasts. "I know. He's beautiful, isn't he? I have to say, Maria, I'm jealous of you. Not every young woman has such a handsome young man as you do."

"You did," she said, and Rachel laughed.

"True. I did. And I will again," she said, with a smoldering look at her son, who was unsuccessfully trying to hide a massive erection. She leaned in and kissed Maria thoroughly, although she kept her hands away from her aching breasts.

"Well," she said perkily. "I think we're all done here. Maria, tomorrow is a holiday, of course, so you don't need to do any cleaning or cooking. Although if you want to visit, I am sure we'd be happy to see you.

"Alex, why don't you take her back to her apartment and make love to her two or three times? Stay the night. I am not sure if Sarah has succeeded in dragging Jeremy off to bed or not. But regardless, you'll probably be more comfortable over there."

"Sure, Mom. Whatever you say, Mom."

"Would you rather not make love to your smoking-hot girlfriend?" Rachel said, her voice dangerously light. "Think carefully before you answer."

Alex scowled down at his mother. "What I would rather do, Mom, is make my own decisions where my girlfriend is concerned. We are perfectly capable of deciding whether or not to make love." He took a deep breath. "You're making us feel as if we're only doing it because you told us to."

Rachel started to reply, then caught herself. "You're absolutely right," she said. "I apologize. It was presumptuous of me. See you in the morning?" she asked.

Alex nodded. "Probably." He gathered up Maria with his eyes. "Let's go."

*****

"So," Rachel asked, entering the kitchen. "Where's Jeremy?"

"He left," Sarah said shortly, wrapping the remainder of the blackberry pie and shoving it viciously into the fridge. She banged the door shut and turned, trying to keep her lips from trembling. "But we're going out on Friday. Dinner. Then Alex's play over at COD."

"Well, good," her mother said, then paused and took a closer look at her face. "Isn't it?"

"Sure," Sarah said furiously. "Everything is just fucking fine!" she shouted, well and truly losing her temper at last. She threw a fistful of forks into the dishwasher and slammed it shut, glaring at her mother. "You and Daddy are humping like rabbits in heat, and getting remarried. Alex and Maria can't keep their hands off each other. Hell, they just walked through here, so happy and caught up in themselves they couldn't even bother to say hi to me.

"And now, when I meet a man, not a boy, but a man, who's hot as hell and actually has a brain, who talks to me like I'm a real person and not a cardboard cut-out, and I invite him upstairs for a quick get-to-know-you fuck, what happens? He takes off like I threatened to castrate him, rather than screw his brains out.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" she wailed, hot angry tears flowing down her cheeks. "I know I'm not beautiful like you are, but is it asking too much for me to get laid every once in a while?"

"Oh, baby," her mother said. Before she knew it a pair of warm arms were wrapped around her. But that just made things worse, and she bawled like a little girl, even as her mother made comforting noises and rocked her gently. Even through her tears, she knew the scene was slightly ridiculous, as her tiny mother cradled her.