Kate Ch. 01

"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. "I don't doubt some of the girls at college 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. "Don'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. "I 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 pussy 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. "I 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."

I stared at her, then shook my head. "Tell me just 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 okay, 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 any classes, 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, okay, I guessed. Needed cutting, but the style was good and it suited my face. Honey-blonde, lightened by the sun.

As far as the rest of me is concerned, I was pretty happy with what I had. I tried to keep myself fit, and my figure was okay. Not great, not like Meg's, but I could live quite happily with myself. Could I turn a young guy on? Maybe, maybe not, but there was only one sure fire way to find out.

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."

"Okay if I come around now?"

"Now would be fine, Mike." Now would be absolutely fucking 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 okay 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 pussy 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 pussy 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 deep inside me. 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. "I 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, if you want to use those.

"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. "I 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 pussy.

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 pussy, 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 inside me. 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 me. 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 me, 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 pussy with your cock."

"Soon, Kate, very soon," he gasped. "You're going to make me come, Kate, you're going to make me fill you, 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 pussy.

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