Mother of Necessity Ch. 04

"I'm not taking your charity, Cliff. We've been over this. I'll figure something out. Thank you, though. I can borrow Justin's car. Or something."

They rode in silence for awhile. Cliff took a deep breath, weighing his options. "You know, I could maybe talk to my client, see if he wants another photo session. If you're interested."

Melinda didn't answer right away, only sat quietly with her hands in her lap. It was almost exactly like the time before.

Cliff felt guilty for continuing the deception - but what could he do? She was too damn stubborn to take his money directly. This story was the only way to help her.

"Really?" she asked at last. "Would we have to do... anything in particular?"

"I don't know," Cliff said. "I suppose it would be like last time - whatever you were comfortable doing."

"The same money as before?"

"I'd have to ask," Cliff lied. He had the money to spare, and if she wanted more, he was willing to give it.

They pulled off onto the side streets, close to Melinda's house now. The interior of the car dimmed as the streetlights grew more sparse. "What about me and my sister? Together? Would that be worth more?"

Cliff raised his eyebrows. What was this new development? Had Beth and Melinda been talking? He kept a straight face only with effort. "Beth? Do you think she'd agree to that?"

"She might. Do you think your client would pay for something like that? Her and I together?"

Cliff tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Apparently he'd missed something, somewhere along the line.

"I can certainly ask," he said.

# # #

It was another hot night. Melinda kissed Cliff goodbye - a good, deep kiss to show him her gratitude for all the help - and walked inside. She came through the door to find Dylan reading in the easy chair. Justin, his back to her, slouched on the sofa, headphones on, playing an online game. The air conditioner was off - since they were trying to stay frugal, they only used it on days they really needed it - and the boys were dressed for the muggy summer weather: shorts and loose tee shirts.

Justin looked around, smiled, nodded, then turned back to his game.

Melinda kicked off her shoes and put her purse down on the table. "Dylan, do you want to order a pizza tonight? Your mom is bushed." She began unbuttoning the blouse of her waitress uniform, eager to get out of her sticky clothes and take a shower. She made eye contact with Dylan as she shrugged the blouse off, revealing her bra and the generous cleavage it showed off. His eyes widened slightly. He glanced at Justin nervously, then back to her.

Without a word, Melinda moved to the hall, toward the bathroom, tossing her blouse on the floor. She paused in the hall to unfasten her skirt and let it fall to the floor, too. Now clad only in bra, panties, and the black stockings the diner made her wear, she struck a pose, hands on her hips. Dylan watched her, transfixed.

Melinda smiled as she saw him move the book he had been reading over his crotch to hide his erection. She stood next to the bathroom door and unfastened her bra, slipping the straps off her shoulder and covering her breasts with her hand. Then, just before she stepped into the bathroom, she uncovered, giving him a full view of her naked breasts. His jaw dropped.

She closed the bathroom door with a grin and turned on the shower. Turning it to as cool a temperature as she could stand, she washed her hair and scrubbed down thoroughly until the grime of the day was washed away. She stepped out, toweled off, and shrugged into a short silk kimono robe - a Christmas present from Beth, too expensive for Melinda to afford herself. It barely came down to mid-thigh, and the neckline plunged - she looked forward to showing it off to the boys.

Parading around like this in front of Justin was dangerous, but she didn't care anymore - she couldn't keep the secret for much longer anyway.

She was in the middle of combing her hair when the bathroom door snicked open. Dylan slipped through, an intense look on his face. She recognized his expression for what it was: untrammelled lust. She'd accomplished her mission.

"Dylan," Melinda whispered, turning to face him. She'd wanted this, but not quite so soon. She was thinking maybe later, after Justin left to hang out with his friends. "Don't you knock?"

He didn't answer, but approached her, hesitant but determined. His gaze traveled down the wide V of flesh made by the open robe. He reached for her and parted the silk, undoing the frail knot holding the robe together. Dylan pressed his clothed body against her. There was no time to waste. She could feel her son's cock, and reached down to coax it out of his shorts. It was rock-hard in her hand.

"Dylan, he's right in the next room-" The statement was more for effect than anything. She wanted this as much as he did. Maybe more.

"I don't care." His hands sought out her breasts, then his mouth, lips closing around one nipple and sucking. Feeling his mouth on her breast sent a forbidden thrill through her. She wanted him, instantly, not caring if Justin heard or suspected. Her grown-up boy, her handsome young man who wanted her...

He took very little coaxing. Melinda's robe slipped off her shoulders, leaving her mostly naked, as he lifted her onto the bathroom counter. She was already wet even as he fumbled to slide his cock inside her. His mouth and hands went everywhere, trying to experience everything at once. Melinda reached down to help him, guiding his cock into her with a gentle hand. He plunged deep. A shock of pleasure surged through her, and she gave a low, shivering moan.

Dylan began to thrust, eagerly and without restraint, drawing more choked sounds from her. He locked eyes with her, his expression simultaneously gentle and savage and wild with lust. She could see Dylan trying to stay quiet, trying to work fast: every moment they were in here together increased their risk.

Her son's hand wandered from her breast to her throat, not squeezing, but merely holding her gently in place, and she felt orgasm approaching like a thunderhead. Their breath came almost in unison as they strained toward each other, struggled to remain quiet.

"Come for me, Dylan," she whispered - and he did, as if that permission were all he needed. He uttered a low, fragile grunt - a surprisingly sweet sound - and she felt him gush into her, through the blinding waves of her own orgasm. His hand tightened on her throat, and she clapped her hand over his, encouraging him, a strangled whimper escaping her.

The storm subsided. He pulled out, gasping. Melinda fetched a towel quickly to take care of the mess as he tucked himself back into his shorts. Their eyes met, and they both laughed softly, happy and satisfied. Melinda felt high.

Faintly, a knock at the front door. Dylan's eyes bulged. "The pizza!"

"Go, go, go!" she whispered fiercely, almost shoving him out the door. He disappeared into the hall, and she shut it quietly behind him, heart pounding, the last traces of her orgasm still effervescent in her.

"Oh my god, you crazy woman," she murmured to herself. On the bathroom counter, her phone buzzed. She picked it up. It was a text from Cliff.

[Client said yes.]

That was that. Now all she had to do was convince her sister to have have sex with her on-camera...

"You crazy, crazy woman," Melinda whispered to herself.