Mind Made Up Pt. 07

"Thank you, Grant! That was amazing!"

"It was truly delicious for me too, Dolores."

She stares at me.

"You have that same... surreal quality as last time. I just... you just make me want you."

"And I wanted you, Dolores. You know that, right?"

She examines her dripping pussy and laughs.

"Oh! I know!"

She grabs my hand.

"But let me return the question: how does it feel to have sex with someone who slept with your parents?"

"Honestly... it doesn't bother me. It's... almost a turn-on, to be fair."

It is a turn-on. I can't deny that. I keep imagining Dolores and my parents in a heated threesome. It's almost enough to get me hard again.

"Are you staying for lunch?" she asks, changing the topic.

"I was hoping to."

"Well, you are then," she states.

IT TAKES SEVERAL MINUTES but we get dressed again; our interactions after this are much friendlier, less carnal certainly. I don't hesitate to hug her, caress her shoulders or back, offer sweet kisses in her hair. She does the same, caressing my ass and placing both hands on my chest. We chat about her past, how she got here, what happened with her divorce, where her children are. I ask about her two dogs.

"They're at the vet," she tells me. Getting groomed. "I'm supposed to pick them up this afternoon. It was probably best they weren't here. They'd have been barking at the door the whole time!"

Dolores is kind and open-hearted; she talks about her children with such love. They rejected her during the divorce and her husband got most of the custody. Now, they're grown up and haven't fully reconnected with her. Her oldest is called Lily, 24 now. She lives in Castillo. Her two others are twin boys, 21, Hank and Harry. They're still with their father, somewhere in the city where I have my apartment, going to university there.

As with all the people I've gotten to know in recent weeks, I'm drawn to Dolores' plight, wondering how I could help.

"Dolores... your house is paid up, right?"

"It is. Settlement in the divorce helped with that."

"Why?"

It's a crazy idea, I think, but I have to move forward with it.

"How attached are you to the house?"

"I am somewhat attached; it's not the house my kids grew up in but I've been living her for many years."

"What if... what if you moved back to Castillo?"

She pauses, then stares at me.

"Are you serious?"

"I am. First off, it'd allow us to see each other more often. You could spend more time with mom."

"What about my job?" she asks.

I know she works at a local retail outlet.

"I see two options: you either find a new job, or you sell the house and live on that money."

"You're serious," she states this time.

"I am."

I grab her hand.

"Dolores, I have a plan to make everyone happy. I just need you to... I just need you to blindly trust me. I know I have no right to ask for it, but I do. Everything will work out."

She honestly considers my word, a testament to its power. I carry on with my speech.

"You don't have to decide right now. Consider it. And we can talk some more about it to ease your mind."

So we talk. I give her a lot to think about. It's clear she's interested in my proposal, but there's a lot to consider. I'll give her time to process the idea. I have ideas of my own, with regards to her, but I'd rather leave them for later. My plate is already full as it is.

AFTER LUNCH, I gather myself and start heading out. I drive further into town, using the MAP application of my phone to find an address. I'm a little tense as I pull up near the small house. I reach on the passenger's seat and grab the folder.

Irina Landers. 37 years old. Single. One known relative: Jessie Landers. My half-sister. The woman my father wanted me to find.

Mary's dossier on the other woman with whom my father had a child is quite limited. An address; a profession - keysmith; her social media platform, which I consulted, barely lists any details. She's not very active. Her daughter is untraceable on the web. The trail is limited. That's why I'm here. To get answers to questions I don't know yet.

I'm anxious as I knock on the door. There's movement inside. The door opens. A gorgeous thirty something woman, brown hair below the shoulders, in a green tank top and dark pants, opens the door. I bow slightly. She stares at me for a moment in silence.

"It's you, isn't it?"

"Me?"

"You're... his son."

I stare at her for a moment before answering.

"And you're... her mom."

She waves me in.

"Come in."

I walk into her home; she closes the door behind me. Then, as I'm about to turn around to face her, she presses me gently against the wall. Her mouth nears mine; her breath is hot on my face.

"Hmmm... uuh..."

"Not now," she says. "We can talk after."

"After...?"

I'm not playing dumb. Her directness actually surprised me. She presses her lips to mine; the forwardness of her advances stuns me for a moment and she takes charge. Her hands rummage over my chest as she kisses me earnestly. She starts stripping off my shirt, pulling it over my head, exposing me. Her hands reach for my waist, releasing my pants, pulling them down, forcing them off along with my socks and shoes. Within seconds, I'm completely naked against the wall. She then steps away, taking it all in, watching my manhood rise to the occasion.

"So desirable," she mumbles.

I dare not say anything, lest it break the spell. She starts to strip, pulling the top off, revealing her delicious breasts (she wore no bra this morning). She pulls down her pants and panties at the same time, revealing the sweet invitation of her sex as she lightly spreads her legs. Still, before I can act, she's on me, pressing our bodies together, grabbing my erection with one strong hand, jerking me gently.

"Uggh... Irina..."

"And you're... Grant."

"Uh-huh."

She smiles, then drops to her knees, her hand running across my skin. She purses her lips and kisses me around my shaft, then on it - then puts her lips around my tip and stares up at me.

"...fuck," I mumble staring down at the sight.

She pulls away.

"I'm going to start by blowing you so hard, you're gonna fill my throat with all your sperm. Is that acceptable, Grant?"

"Oh yeah!"

And she goes to town on my cock; I watch, mesmerized, as she pulls me in fully, then almost lets me go, back-and-forth, her hand stabilizing my rod in her mouth. Her oral skills are exceptional and I wonder how much practice she must have had. I tremble as I look down upon the magnificent sight. My hand wanders to her head but she pushes it away. She's in charge, so I let her be. I allow myself to simply indulge in the oral treatment, the tension slowly building over the few minutes she works on me. She doesn't let up - her determination yields results eventually.

"Ooh... sweet mother of... I'm gonna... come..."

She goads me on with her eyes, never stopping the intense rhythm on my erection. I grunt in a low voice. Her mouth tightens on my cock.

"Aaah... aahhh..."

It shoots out in delicious orgasm; I watch her gleefully take it all in, welcoming my seed into her gullet as I empty myself. My eyes close for a brief moment as the pleasure gently subsides; I watch her throat move as she swallows everything I just gave her. I lean against the wall to recover from the sensation; she keeps licking my shaft after the fact, enjoying herself.

When she pulls away, she remains on her knees in front of me, looking me - all smiles.

"You were delicious, Grant."

"Aha... Thanks."

We remain there for a moment, then I get to my own knees to be at her level. She pulls in and kisses me; I accept it and return it with a passion.

"Does that help?" she asks.

"Help with what?"

"With your focus."

I'm not certain what she's taking about, but I decide to go for it.

"Yeah. It does. A lot."

"It did for your father," she says.

And there it is.

"That's... what I'm here for," I tell her.

"To talk about your father."

"Yes."

She pouts a little, then rises, extending a hand. I grab it. We leave our clothes in the entryway; she brings me to the living room, motioning me to sit down. I do. She sits across me, in her love seat.

"I'm guessing you'd like to start with... the infidelity."

"I have nowhere special to begin, Irina."

After a blowjob such as this, familiarity becomes more natural, I find. She shrugs.

"Alright. Then let me tell you a different story."

I relax in my seat. Her eyes wander as she spins her tale.

"Once upon a time, there was a girl who had a falling out with her parents. She... wasn't happy at home. So she escaped. She was 18 at the time, so her parents couldn't force her to come back. She was fine on her own, except for a total lack of experience in the work force. So she tried her hand at waitressing. Wasn't good at it. Got exploited a bit by the local owner."

"Exploited? I give her a concerned look."

"Nothing too dark," she says. "She wasn't raped. But you know, wandering hands, wandering eyes. Then... in walked a young man - slightly older than her. He was kind and sweet - gorgeous too. She..."

Irina pauses.

"I couldn't help myself. He gave me his number. I joined him at his flat. God, we had sex!"

I can't hold back my smile as she shifts the narrative to the first person.

"Next thing I knew, I was moving into his flat."

"Moving into his flat?"

"Yeah. It was a bachelor's pad. He was married. I knew it."

That makes sense.

"We didn't plan on me... getting pregnant. We used protection, in fact. But... accidents happen. Not that I regret. Jessie is... a wonderful addition to my life."

"But something went wrong with my father," I reply. "The news says you... outed him in church."

Irina's face turns sour.

"I didn't do anything. He was outed, yes. But not by me."

"By whom, then?"

"I... I don't know. I didn't know. Except..."

I wait for her to continue.

"Except when it happened, it shattered all our lives. You have to understand, Grant. Your father... he wasn't a one-woman man."

"I've come to learn that, yes."

"And I was fine with that. In fact, when I became pregnant, I told him if he didn't want to be involved - I knew he had another family, you, your sisters, your mom - I was fine with it. But he said he would man up - at least, he would provide financial support. And he always did."

I stare at her, a question on my lips.

"My dad sold women's clothing at a retail store."

"That's not how he lived, though. That was just a way to meet women."

Seems obvious, after the fact.

"Your dad had quite the wealth; not when I knew him first, but later on in life. I never wanted for anything. This house? He bought it for me. I helped, of course, worked, paid mortgage - but he put up the down payment and never asked me to reimburse him. I left Castillo because of the turmoil after the revelation, but he never left me. He was here a few weeks before he died. Had sex in that couch you're sitting on."

I cringe a bit, but only slightly; she holds back her laughter.

"Where's his money?"

"I don't know."

She's sincere, not that I'd pressure her for information: I wouldn't need to. I know Irina's being sincere - everyone is so sincere with me. It's more than just powers of persuasion; it's the ability for people to let me know their inner thoughts without fear or restraint. It's an aura of confidence and trust that makes me likeable, loveable - fuckable even.

"I wish I could tell you more about your father, Grant, but he remained a good mystery all his life. When he was here, I just wanted to be with him, to make him happy the way he made me happy. When he was gone, I could recall the moments spent with him and it made me happy."

"Do you miss him?"

"A bit, but even in death, he's still a part of me. It's hard to explain."

Everything my dad lived, I am now living. It's so obvious now. I wonder if my dad experienced that same investigation when he first got the ring from his own grandfather. I wonder if he tracked his movements back then. Obviously, with fewer electronic resources, it would have made his task harder. Still, with Irina's revelations here, I'm much closer understanding the man whom I am emulating.

But there's one more piece of inquiry to get to.

"Can we talk about Jessie?"

"Of course we can. Your half-sister."

"Yeah. She would be what, now?"

"Just turned eighteen at the start of the year. January."

I nod.

"And where is she?"

"I..."

Pause; she lowers her head.

"I don't know," she grudginly admits..

"She's gone?"

"She left home, a few months ago - not long after her birthday."

I hear the sadness in Irina's voice; I lean in.

"I'm sorry. Do you know why?"

"I don't... but I suspect... it may have to do with your father."

I wait for her to continue, but I can't hide a concerned frown.

"I never told Irina who her father was."

"Why not?"

"Because your father asked me not to tell her. Since he wasn't going to be part of her life, he decided it wouldn't be fair to her to let her know who he was. I honored his request."

"Did she find out?"

"No. Maybe. I..."

She takes a moment to couch her words.

"Your father and I were prudent when we made love. We always did it when Jessie wasn't around. But I suspect she was onto us at some point. And I'm certain she started to wonder if your father wasn't hers. She may have looked into it. That was around her birthday, a little after - on your father's last visit in fact."

"And now she's missing."

"She deleted her online presence. She changed numbers, or lost her phone. I... have no news."

I can see how this is eating her up. I rise from the couch and move closer to her, grabbing her hand.

"I'm sure you trained a resourceful girl, Irina. I'm sure she's fine."

"But maybe she's angry at me - maybe that's why she hasn't called me, or given me any news."

I brush a forming tear from her eye.

"I doubt that's it. Maybe she's confused. Maybe she did find out about my father being hers. If that's the case, she might have been looking for him - in Castillo. I bet... I bet she's there."

It's a bet: I have no way of knowing.

"I promised my dad I would find her," I tell Irina. "Now I'm promising you. I will find her."

She smiles at me through her sad face, then caresses my cheek.

"I believe you, Grant. God... you have your father's eyes."

"Thank you."

She purses her lips, then kisses me.

"Can you... take me to bed?" she asks.

"I'd be honored."

I literally lift her up the loveseat, into my arms; she leans her head against my shoulder and guides me in the right direction. We get into her room. I gently lay her down on the bed. She looks up at me.

"Are you... well enough... to take me?"

I look down between my legs; my manhood is quite limp at the moment, but I can probably sum up enough passion to get hard again.

"With the right motivation," I tell her, "anything's possible."

She pulls me onto the bed, sitting me down, climbing across from me, bringing her mouth once more to my crotch. Her tongue runs along my shaft which she also grabs with one hand. Her caresses slowly do the trick and I feel myself rising to the occasion once more. I caress her hair.

"Can I ask something?"

"Of course. Anything," she replies.

"Why... why did you go for sex first?"

"Why do you ask?"

It's not that I didn't enjoy it; quite the contrary, in fact. But a broader question bothers my mind and I'm trying to figure it out.

"I'm very happy for it," I reply, "but you didn't have to go there first. Or at all."

"I wanted to."

"You're certain?"

She pauses her ministrations on my cock.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Irina, we just met. Two minutes into our first encounter, you were... sucking my cock."

She giggles.

"I was, wasn't I?"

"And it was delicious - like what you're doing now, feel free to continue."

She giggles, then resumes getting me hard for her.

"I hope you didn't feel any obligation towards me," I add.

"I didn't. I felt one towards mysefl. Truth is - and please don't take it the wrong way. I do miss your dad."

"Huh?"

"He was such a great lover," she explains. "Caring, passionate. With him gone, I've been alone for some time. Then you walk in, the same vibe, the same respect and deference..."

"You could tell all that from a minute with me."

"I could tell from the moment I saw your eyes."

I'm pleased with the compliment; even more by the sensations between my legs. I'm almost ready to pounce on her, but I want more detail about what Irina sees. I'm trying to compare people's perspectives of me to get a full picture. They all say similar things, yet all slightly different. For Irina, it's my eyes.

"What about them?" I ask.

"They're... kind. And sweet. They show you care. Plus, they're truthful. They tell me that you won't lie to me."

I hear that and I recall how many times I've been tempted to lie in the past week, yet haven't done so. It's not desirability or influence that is affecting others' perception of my person. It's also how oddly honest I've been. I've obfuscated items (like mentioning the ring only to one other individual) but I've been truthful, for example when talking to Lulu Bowler about the money or to Sally O'Malley about the house.

"Any other questions?" she muses, a smile on her lips.

"Nope. However you want me," I tell her.

She gets on all fours at the edge of her bed. I move in behind her, caressing her buttocks, rubbing my hardness between her cheeks. She bites her lower lip in anticipation. I take a moment to stare at the gorgeous figure below me, and I can't help but think how often my father must have been inside her - furthermore, he put a baby in her - my half-sister whom I've been looking for. I'm about to fuck her mom. I don't know if I should be shocked or ashamed, but I'm neither. I'm just ecstatic at the prospect of sex offered to me, and it doesn't really matter who the partner is, I find.

She's more than ready for me - I thrust in with energy. She moans as I push deep into her, then stay there.

"Oooh... Grant... that's wonderful."

"You're wonderful," I tell her.

I start thrusting back-and-forth, eager to get her going. She comments as she sways under me.

"Oooh... you must have lots of lovers... just like your father."

"I do... but... I just started," I answer. "He had years to gather them."

"How... oooh... how many... so far?"

I have to count, and it's not easy while I'm fucking my half-sister's mother - that's one right there. My old teacher. My old schoolmate. Three. The waitress. Four. My neighbour. The librarian. Six. Mom's best friend. Seven. The real estate lady. Eight.

Can I count what I did with my older sister? It wasn't sex per se, but it was pretty damn close. I decide a handjob counts.

" Nine," I yammer as I keep pounding inside her.

"OOoh... that's a good start."

"Wait. Ten."

I think of the girl to whom I lost my virginity a few years ago; she's out of my life, but she's part of the list, I suppose. Meanwhile, Irina is pleasantly accepting my energy into her, all smiles.

"Your father... had hundreds," she tells me.

"I know. I have his... collection..."

"I knew he kept one... oooh Grant... never showed it to me..."

I lean into her, putting more force into the penetration, forcing her forward as her body slightly bends.

"How did he... manage it?" I inquire. "All these women..."

" ...he didn't," she moans the words.

The wonderful sensation of her pussy is more than enthralling; I can see why my father came back to her many times. I can picture myself putting a baby inside her. How awesome it will feel to come inside her.

Irina's moans are rhythmic, delicious to hear. My name pops from her lips every few thrusts; I delight in watching her sway under me.