Julius and Me Ch. 06

Julius and Me (Part 6)

Kathryn M. Burke

The NFL Draft took place in late April. Julius was drafted in the first round--by the Chicago Bears.

My ears perked up at that. Chicago was just a hop, skip, and a jump away from here. It was conceivable (although not entirely practical) that I could commute to campus; and I was sure I could get some job in the Chicago area, where there are plenty of educational institutions.

I'm sure you get where this is leading. I was determined to stay with Julius--maybe even establish a permanent bond (yes, yes--by that I mean wedding bells). Would he be inclined to go along with that? Was a difference of twelve years between himself and his bride such a big deal to a famous athlete who had essentially become an instant millionaire?

I began to hint a lot of this to him, but in his taciturn way he remained noncommittal. But I did get him to agree to visit my parents during the week between the end of final exams and his triumphant graduation from our university.

My parents lived about twenty miles north of here; but in spite of our proximity we'd not seen each other in a while. I think they felt they needed me to live my own life, but I suspected that something else was going on. I didn't think their marriage was really in trouble--they'd been devoted to each other for three and a half decades--but I detected some strange undercurrents in the things my mother said (and didn't say) during my weekly calls to her. What was even stranger was that Dad rarely came to the phone at all, and when he did he only muttered a few meaningless commonplaces.

So we descended upon them in late May. They of course knew who Julius was--everyone in the state did--but I had a feeling they regarded my relationship with him as a bit odd. I guess it was. There were times when I myself felt I was something like a ditzy teenager with the craziest of crushes on a guy way out of my league.

Our arrival at my parents' house was, shall we say, eventful.

As we opened the front door (I still had my own key) and stepped in, I was about to introduce them to Katie and Dennis Osborne. My mother floated into the living room and caught sight of us. She stopped short and seemed on the verge of collapse. Her knees buckled, and she would have tumbled to the floor if Julius--ever the alert athlete--hadn't dashed forward and snatched her up by the waist to keep her upright. She flung her arms around his neck, clinging to him like a woman about to drown and desperately grasping for a piece of driftwood to stay afloat. Julius clumsily managed to steer himself to the sofa, where he sat down, my mother landing on his lap.

"Mom!" I cried, rushing over to them. "What's the matter with you?"

My mother actually giggled, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Goodness me!" she cried. "I don't know what came over me! I just felt light-headed all of a sudden."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, dear, thanks to this wonderful young man who rescued me." And she took Julius's head, pressed it to her chest, and kissed the top of it as if she was his mother and not mine.

I have to tell you that Mom had me when she was pretty young--a sophomore in college, just turned twenty--and she still looked fabulous, and a lot younger than fifty-four. Okay, she no doubt colored her ample and well-coiffed head of dark hair, but there were no lines on her face and she had plenty of curves at bust and hips that would make any man salivate. I hoped I'd look as good as her in two decades.

It was only now that Dad shuffled into the room. Dennis Osborne had never been the most outgoing person in the world, but lately he seemed to have lapsed into a sort of brooding melancholy not entirely characteristic of him. In the past, even if he'd never been the life of the party, he'd at least had a reasonably cheerful outlook on life. But now, at the age of fifty-six, that seemed to have vanished.

And yet, he still looked pretty good. Growing up, I'd thought he was just the most handsome man in the world--and now he had the classic gray at the temples that made him look distinguished and scholarly, but also a slim, rugged frame that belied his occupation as a schoolteacher. I somehow got the impression that he worked out a lot--maybe even compulsively so.

As he saw his wife draped on my boyfriend's lap, he didn't express any particular sentiment--only a kind of weary resignation that puzzled me. When she saw him, Mom leaped up as if having committed a faux pas (which in fact she had) and tried to start all over again as the beaming, welcoming hostess.

The next several days were... peculiar. Dad said almost nothing, although it was obvious he himself had developed a kind of man-crush on Julius, whom he'd no doubt watched on television for the last several years. But it was Mom who repeatedly embarrassed us (or at least me) by--well, by making a spectacle of herself as far as Julius was concerned.

She made every possible effort to please him with food, attention, and even little--or not so little--hugs and kisses. Once she came up behind him as he was sitting at the dining table, took his head in her arms, and held it between her breasts, breathing, "Oh, you're such a darling young man!" I could swear that one time, as she watched him puttering around in the kitchen, she actually licked her lips.

No, it couldn't be. Was Mom really wanting to--?

I had to talk this over with Dad. I finally collared him when Mom went grocery shopping and Julius was jogging around the neighborhood, making sure to keep in shape when the Bears summoned him to training camp in a few weeks. Dad was idly and distractedly playing a computer game in his study, and I sat down in an easy chair across from his desk and gazed at him.

"Dad," I said, "what do you make of Mom?"

I thought a little shudder went through him. Without bothering to look me in the face, he said, "It's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

"What's obvious?" I said, although I was probably thinking the same thing he was--I just couldn't admit it to myself.

Now Dad did tear his gaze away from the computer and peer intently at me. With absolute precision he said, "She wants to sleep with Julius."

I thought I'd fall off the easy chair and land in a heap on the floor--just the way my mother would have done when she'd first met Julius.

"Dad," I whispered, "you can't be serious."

"Sandra," he said severely, "you're brighter than that. You know this is exactly what she wants. She's wanted it the moment she set eyes on the man."

"But--but why? I mean, she could be his grandmother!" Just barely. Then, as Dad resumed his lugubrious gaze at his machine: "There's no trouble between you, is there?"

Dad's lack of response sent shivers down my spine.

"Dad, is there?" I cried. "You don't mean to say that you--" That you've cheated on my mother?

Dad wasn't slow on the uptake. Instead of being shocked or outraged, he merely let out a kind of derisive laugh.

"You'd better ask your mother what the problem is," he said--and he made it clear that that was all he intended to say about the matter.

How I was to raise two extremely delicate issues with my mother (Do you want to sleep with my boyfriend? and What's wrong with you and Dad?) was no easy task, so I just decided to be blunt and go for broke. When Mom came back and was putting things away in the kitchen, I strode up to her and said: "You want Julius, don't you?"

A little shiver ran through her, and she tried to evade the question.

"What on earth do you mean, dear?" she said in a high, fluty voice.

"Mom, you know exactly what I mean. You want to take him to bed."

The directness of my statement almost staggered her, and she had to hold on to the kitchen counter to keep her balance.

"Sandra!" she cried. "That--that would be highly immoral. I would never--"

"Oh, come on, Mom, you're not fooling anyone. Dad knows--he told me."

"He said that?" she said in an appalled whisper.

"Yeah, he said that. And the incredible thing is, he didn't seem all that surprised. Saddened, but not surprised. So what's going on between you two?"

Mom stared through the kitchen window off into the distance. Then she turned to look at me, sighing heavily.

"Your father," she began slowly, "was diagnosed with high blood pressure a few years ago. So we got him on some medication. It works fine, but it has an unfortunate side effect."

I closed my eyes. I'd heard about this.

"You mean," I said, lowering my voice so no one but Mom could hear, "he's become impotent."

"Not exactly, dear. He can still manage--barely. It's just..."

"He can't get it up, you mean."

"Dear, you shouldn't speak about your father like that."

"Oh, come on, Mom, we're all adults here."

"Let's just say it's a lot more difficult than before--and sometimes it's just not possible."

"Mom, there are pills for that sort of thing."

"Of course there are--but your father is very proud. He doesn't think he should need help like that."

"Oh, what a pig-headed man! That's just ridiculous."

"That's the way he is. For a guy who's always been pretty mild-mannered, sometimes it's really hard to convince him of something."

"Well," I said with determination, "I'll see what I can do about that. Meanwhile, back to the issue at hand--Julius."

Another little shiver from Mom. "Wh-what about him?"

"You do want to cuddle up with him, don't you?"

Her shoulders drooped in defeat. "Yes. I--I've never felt anything like this for anyone, except maybe your father when I first met him." Then, sadly: "Maybe not even him."

"I have to agree with you, Mom: Julius is something special."

"But," she said, continuing to flagellate herself, "he's not going to want to sleep with an old lady like me."

"Mom, you're not an old lady--you're a vibrant example of ripe womanhood. No man could keep his hands off of you."

Mom blushed crimson at that. "Sandra, please!"

"The point is not," I pursued, "whether Julius wants to sleep with you. Probably he does. The issue is whether his morals will allow him to do that."

"Yes, I thought of that."

"I'll talk to him and explain the situation. He may come around, just for my sake."

"That would be nice, dear," she said, as if I had offered to take Julius to a church social.

"And you're sure Dad's not going to mind?"

"I guess your father wants to see that I'm happy too."

"Okay, fine."

And I marched off to wait for Julius to come back.

To my surprise, he heard me out without a word as I told him the story. He just nodded, mostly to himself, from time to time. At the end he simply said, "I understand."

"Then you'll do it?" I said in a tone of almost unholy anticipation.

"If she wants me to," he said with something of resignation.

I got the impression that this was one more instance of Julius's much-vaunted "respect for his elders." My girlfriend's mom wants me to bed down with her, so I guess I will.

"I think you'll have a wonderful time with her," I said, sounding like a parent sending her son out on his first date. "She's a very affectionate woman."

He just nodded.

"You find her attractive, don't you?"

Now his eyes suddenly came to life, and a little smile spread over his face. "You bet I do."

"Good for you." I paused significantly. "Just be a little easy on her, okay?"

"Easy?"

"Let's just say there may be certain things she won't want to do." Like ass-licking.

"Sure, fine."

"So... tonight?"

"If that's what she wants."

I took his face in both hands and gave him a messy kiss on the mouth. "You're a wonderful man, Julius! God's gift to women."

Again he blushed. It was hard to see, but I could now tell.

I headed over to Mom, who was still in the kitchen. She was puttering around aimlessly, picking up random objects as if she didn't know what they were for. When she saw me, a look of alarm--maybe even fear--came over her face.

"Okay, Mom," I announced with a smile, "it's all set. You and Julius. Tonight."

"Tonight!" she squealed in a girlish voice. "So soon?"

"No time like the present." I looked upon her sympathetically. "Has it been a while, Mom?"

"A little while," she admitted. "But not so long that I've forgotten how it's done."

"Of course not. But Mom, I should warn you of something."

"What?"

"Julius--well, he's pretty big."

"I can see that, dear. He's a football player, with those broad shoulders and--"

"No, Mom. I meant... his thing."

She flushed and looked away. "Oh. How big, exactly?"

"Well, I haven't measured it, but I'd say about this big." I held my hands about ten inches apart.

From being crimson she seemed to turn a bloodless white. Her chest heaved as she whispered, "That big?"

"Yes, that big."

"Quite a bit bigger than your father's."

"How big is his?"

"I'm not telling you that! You have no right--"

"Okay, okay, Mom, don't chew my head off."

"How--how do you manage, dear?"

"Oh, I manage. He doesn't always go in all the way."

"Thank heaven for that."

"Anyway, I told him to go easy on you."

That riled her up. "Go easy on me! I'm not exactly made of porcelain, you know!"

"Of course not, Mom. It's just that if you're not used to... Well, anyway, there's something else."

"What?"

I was standing next to Mom at the kitchen sink. I reached over to her, placed my hand on her bottom, and said, "He likes to go in back here."

She swallowed hard. "Does he?"

"Yes. But you don't have to do that. You can always say no. There are plenty of other things you can do."

She just licked her lips and stared out the window.

"Do you like that, Mom?" I said. "Have you done it before?"

"No," she said almost inaudibly.

"Mmm. Well, then, maybe you shouldn't. It takes a lot of getting used to."

"Your dad asked me once, ages and ages ago, when we were dating. I said no. I thought the very idea of it was--disgusting."

"Well, plenty of women don't like it."

"I might be willing to try. I want to please him."

"Mom, there are many things you can do to please him. You don't have to be in pain. Sex is supposed to be pleasurable for both sides."

"We'll see, dear. I guess I'll just wing it."

I left her then, reflecting that a mother and daughter had probably never had a more bizarre conversation.

But there was something I had to do first.

*

Dinner was a really strange affair: everyone knew what was going to happen that night, and yet it was obviously nothing we could talk about openly. Mom kept glancing over at Julius with a mixture of fear and excitement. It was lucky he was sitting down: she'd probably have stared at his groin the whole time. We somehow managed to get through a mindless romantic comedy before Julius, standing up, went over to my dad, knelt down in front of him, and said, "You sure this is okay with you, Mr. Osborne?"

Dad tried to be bluff and hearty. "Of course, Julius! You and Katie--well, you enjoy yourselves."

Julius now went over to Mom, held out his hand, and said, "Shall we go up, ma'am?"

She gazed up at him, took his hand in hers, and allowed herself to be led upstairs.

Dad and I watched them without a word. My father then bowed his head in a gesture of defeat and humiliation that wrung my heart.

It was time for me to get into action. I went over to him and spoke sharply. "Come on, Dad. Let's go upstairs."

He looked at me in puzzlement. "What do you mean, dear?"

"Just follow me, okay?"

I strode up the stairs, just in time to see Julius closing the door of the master bedroom with its big king-size bed (it was not the bed where I was conceived, because my parents hadn't been living in this house at that time), and stalked into my own bedroom. Dad followed me like a little lost puppy. I closed the door, went over to my purse, fished out something from it, and then held it out to him.

It was a little purple pill.

"Dad, take this," I ordered.

His eyes got big with wonder. "Is that--what I think it is?"

"It is."

"How--where'd you get it?"

"Never mind that. I have my ways. Just take it."

I forced the pill into his hand, then handed him the glass of water that had been sitting on my nightstand.

He swallowed the pill like a zombie, but then said, "Dear, what's going to--? I mean, what do you have in mind?"

"This is what I have in mind."

And I began to undress.

Well, what else did you expect? There wasn't any other woman I could summon at such short notice--and who would that be, anyway? So I figured I'd do the honors. If that pill really worked the way everyone said it did, the fact that Dad would have his daughter as a kind of test of its efficacy might add a little spice to this experiment.

Dad watched me open-mouthed as I peeled off my clothes--blouse, skirt, stockings, bra, and panties. I confess that even I got a little nervous when actually revealing myself to my father in full nudity, but the atmosphere of this whole fantastic situation--where I could already hear some mild moans coming from Julius and my mother in the other room--was making me feel bold and a little crazy.

When I was entirely naked, I stepped slowly over to Dad and, first giving him a not-so-chaste kiss on the mouth, began undressing him. He was still in a state of frozen amazement, so I had to do it for him. It didn't take me long to get him down to his underwear.

Then that came off too.

Of course, he wasn't hard--I knew that pill would take at least half an hour to work. But I could see that his member was already quivering with anticipation. At full erection I imagined it would be about seven inches--nothing at all to be ashamed about. I led my father by the hand to the bed, where I had him lie down on his back as I draped myself at his side, letting my breasts nestle up against him, stroking his chest (lightly covered with fine dark hairs) with one hand while I planted tender little kisses on his face.

He really was a wonderful man, and I loved him with all my heart. As I've mentioned, he was a fine-looking gentleman of mature years, and any woman of whatever age would be happy to be wrapped in his arms. He seemed, however, quite a bit more tentative in snuggling with me than I was: I suppose the shock of this impending intimacy with his own daughter was spooking him. Still, he managed to snake his hand down my back and take hold of my bottom, which he then kneaded eagerly, almost hungrily.

As the minutes passed, I saw his cock becoming engorged. What a wonderful sight! Haven't I said that you should never waste an erection?

When I felt he was pretty close to being ready, I scooted down and, taking it in my hand, stuffed it into my mouth.

I actually enjoy the sensation of having a cock get hard in my mouth--something that didn't happen very often, especially with Julius, since he was already fully erect when my lips engulfed his member. But feeling the paternal organ stiffen up in my mouth was thrilling, and I knew this was going to be a fine session.

After only a few minutes, Dad pulled my head away and urged me to get onto my back. It seemed he was worried that his hard-on might fade, and he wanted to take advantage of it while it lasted.

And so, making only a token effort to see if I was wet (I was), he plunged into me.

It felt splendid. I didn't need a cock of Julius's dimensions to feel filled up, and knowing that this was the very man who had brought me into existence made my heart expand with love and desire. He started pummeling me right away, then slowed down once he realized that his erection wasn't about to dissipate. He kissed my face tenderly--mouth, cheeks, forehead, even my ear (I just love a hot tongue lapping at my ear)--while his hands squeezed my breasts and bottom and stroked my back and thighs.