Ms Jones

A/N - Hello! At the start of 'Zara', I mentioned I was going to write two stories back-to-back. 'Zara' was a story involving a mature man / younger woman. This story is simply the opposite, younger man / mature woman. I'm keeping these stories rather simple and certainly more of a romantic theme than many stories I've written lately.

Usual caveats about spelling (usually good), grammar (ropey in places) and the fact I do all my own editing. Might be the occasional typo. I'm human and therefore imperfect.

Comments and feedback appreciated as always.

*****

Moving back home at the end of three years at university wasn't exactly something I'd wanted nor envisaged, but although I had managed to find full-time employment, rent was extortionate, unless you wanted to pay minimal rent for some cockroach infested death trap, and I had little choice but to ask my mother if it was okay. She told me not to be stupid and that home would always be home, no matter how old I was.

I'd departed with a suitcase and a backpack of all my worldly possessions when moving into the share-house I'd lived in for the past three years. I'd had an absolute blast at university. Learned plenty. Studied my arse off. Partied like it was 2099. Got laid more often than I actually thought possible. And when I wasn't studying, I found part-time jobs and worked my arse off so I didn't live in student poverty for three years.

Carrying the last box in the house, Mum was sitting on the couch, legs curled underneath her. My older sister sat next to her, nursing a glass of wine. "Bit early for that, isn't it?"

"Past noon, and it's evening somewhere," she retorted, poking her tongue out at me.

"Real mature, Stacy. Real mature."

Placing the box down, I looked around my old but now new room. Mum had done some re-decorating since I moved out. A new bed. New wardrobe. Decent lick of paint, the room of a young man instead of a hormonal teenager. Luckily, I'd grown up with the internet, so there was nothing like Mum finding any old porno mags or anything.

Joining the family back in the living room, my little sister appeared from her bedroom, taking a seat next to me on the other two-seater couch, snuggling into her older brother. "I'm glad you're home, Mark," Rebecca whispered. I kissed the top of her head. We were nearly three years apart in age but always been incredibly close, and she'd missed me terribly. I knew that because we probably talked more in the three years that I didn't live home than in the previous ten years that I had lived at home.

"This wasn't exactly what I planned..."

"Heard from your father?" Mum asked, and even after nearly three years, I could hear she was doing her best to hold back the hostility.

"Not since graduation, Mum. And he was smart enough not to talk to me."

She snorted in derision. I didn't blame her. Dad walking out as soon as Rebecca hit eighteen. I thought the whole 'staying together for the kids' was an old wives' tale. It wasn't. I was there the day he packed his things and left. Mum was both crying and shouting at him to leave. I'm putting it politely as there was far more cursing involved. Stacy glowered with righteous indignation, hatred dripping from her tone as she muttered some rather dark thoughts about her own father. Rebecca was on her bed in floods of tears.

I followed him out to his car. "What the fuck, Dad?"

When he squared up to me, I honestly thought he was going to swing. We stood roughly the same height, but I was younger, fitter, and stronger. He'd spent ten years behind a desk. He still had that 'Dad strength' in himself, but sharing blows wasn't something either of us wanted. "I'm going, Mark, and that's it."

"Who is she?" He glared at me. I glared back. "Man up and at least be honest with your son. You're abandoning your fucking family, for crying out loud."

"Think what you want but she's none of your business, Mark. Otherwise, I'll keep in touch."

I stepped closer. "You know what? Don't fucking bother. Pathetic old man. Your wife and children are in that house in tears, and you're walking away without a care in the world? The urge to spit in your face right now is overwhelming."

"I'm doing what's right for me. I've put all my dreams and desires aside for over twenty years. Your sister is now eighteen. My job is done."

"Jesus wept, what an ignorant fucking viewpoint." I pushed him in the chest towards his car and he looked ready to retaliate. I balled my fists, ready for the blows to start raining down. "Fuck off. We're better off without you if that's what you think."

I watched as he got into his car without another word, backed out of the driveway, and simply drive away. Since that day, I'd spoken to him maybe half a dozen times, and none of the conversations had been pleasant. He filed for divorce as soon as he was legally allowed to. Mum hadn't seen him since except for a couple of days in court. The judge tried to mandate some sort of reconciliation process, but my father refused to attend, stating the marriage was over and there would be no reconciliation as he wished to marry someone else. Once the judge realised my father would rather be arrested (more than once) than attend, he signed the Divorce Order. Begrudgingly, mind you, but he still signed it. No point keeping two people in marriage they no longer wanted.

"Earth to Mark," Mum said, hearing them giggle as I'd been thinking, "I guess you're thinking about what happened?"

"How have you been doing, Mum?"

"As well as can be."

"Dating much?"

She laughed. "God no. There are few men I now trust in my life, Mark. You the most, then my father, then my brother. Maybe a few guys I work with, but considering they immediately started sniffing around once they learned I was single..."

"What about you?" Stacy wondered.

"No girlfriend."

"Oh, that's right, Mister Play the Field."

"No, I just had brief relationships which both parties found fulfilling."

"And how long did those last?" Rebecca teased.

"Some lasted a couple of months, others lasted only a weekend."

"So you man-whored your way through university?" Stacy asked, and I heard the tone of disapproval. If I was a woman, I'd have been called a 'slut' without a shadow of a doubt. There's a clear double standard, but men and women at university had both enjoyed sex, and I certainly didn't miss out on it. Some beautiful women that craved love and affection, others just wanted to be fucked hard for a couple of nights. Either way, we were both left satisfied when parting.

"What about you two?" I wondered. I didn't really keep up to date with their private lives.

"I'm a good girl," Rebecca replied, cuddling me tighter.

"Really?" I asked, tickling her immediately making her giggle and almost shriek, "Not sure I should believe you."

"Trust me, Mark, you think she could keep it a secret if she did get laid?" Mum retorted.

"What about you, Stacy? Anything going on with Rob?"

"Living together but no sign of any ring on my finger just yet."

Settling in back home wasn't too weird, though it was different now that Rebecca and myself were now adults. The house was bought and paid for, but Mum still worked as some sort of legal secretary. Rebecca was still studying, while Stacy was a nurse. She stayed for dinner, Mum cooking one of her world-famous roasts, before Stacy drove home. I didn't start my new job until after the Christmas and New Year holiday period, and as it was getting rather late in the year, the sun was still blazing down and I could relax by the pool. The beach was out as I hated driving to and from the western suburbs towards the coast, and most decent beaches required some driving time.

Spending time with my little sister was a lot of fun. I was closer in age to Stacy, being only fifteen or so months apart between dates of birth, but I'd always been closer to Rebecca when growing up, her eighteen to my now twenty-one years on the planet. I'd been the one who would handle anyone at school who thought it wise to tease her, having always been one of the taller boys at school, and one of the best things my father did was get me into going to the gym to keep fit. Once I was old enough, I started doing weights.

Entering December, I'd caught up with some mates, enjoyed a couple of nights with girls who were nothing more than 'friends with benefits', and did some part-time work to keep me occupied. Christmas was fast approaching, and I was already thinking of what to buy the family. Mum loved perfumes and scented candles. Rebecca would want anything that would help with her studies. Stacy would ask for things that would help make her house a home. As for anyone else, it was usually simple things like gift-cards.

It was a month before Christmas when Mum approached me as I lazed outside by the pool. I had a healthy tan but wasn't one of those bronzed beefcakes you might see about. "Mark, can I ask a favour?"

Lowering my sunnies, I looked my mother up and down, standing next to me in her work clothes. She looked good for a woman in her mid-forties. Shame she'd given up trying to find someone. I'd been giving her compliments every single day since moving home, and it made her face light up every single time, but she also knew what I was doing. She'd hug me, tell me she loved me, but assured me she was happy.

"What's up, Mum?"

"Follow me inside. You might need a drink for what I'm about to ask."

"I'm not taking Rebecca out on a date. We're close but not that close."

Thankfully, she saw the humour in that remark. "Your sister loves you dearly, Mark. She just needs time to come out of her shell. University will do her the world of good."

Mum sat at the table, pouring her a glass of wine, and grabbing a bottle of beer. Sitting to her right, she sipped at her wine before taking a deep breath. "What's up, Mum? Something wrong?"

"You know Lauren, right?"

That was a silly question. I'd know her for well over a decade. "Ms Jones? Yeah, she's one of your best friends, Mum. Why?"

"Okay, so you know how she worked her way up the rungs at our firm. Well, I'm not sure if you know, but she's a corporate lawyer and they're already talking of her making partner within the next five years."

"Damn," I muttered. I had a reason to be impressed. Mum was forty-five years old and had always been happy to work as a legal secretary, working in the same company. No interest in going any further, as she never wanted to find herself in a role where she had to dedicate more to her job than her family.

Lauren Jones was different. She was thirty-nine, from memory. I'd have to ask Mum later. Started out at a lower level than my mother, but thanks to hard work and studying her arse off, she climbed the ranks quickly and was one of the youngest women to make it to her level in the firm's long history. I knew she'd also been married and had fallen pregnant when she was thirty. Unfortunately, there had been a miscarriage after around four months and their relationship hadn't survived. From the little that I'd learned, her ex-husband had cut her to her soul with some of his remarks, and whenever I'd seen her at any parties since, she'd always been alone.

I'd known her since I was around eight or nine years old, so for well over a decade. The last time I'd seen her would have been last year at around the same time near Christmas, though usually saw her more often when I'd been living at home. I'd brought along one of my friends from university the last time Mum had a get together with friends and hadn't really talked to her all that much.

Realising I'd tuned out, Mum took my hand. "I'm hosting a party this weekend, Mark. And I need to ask a big favour of you."

"Sure, what is it?"

"The firm's Christmas party is a week before the twenty-fifth, in three weeks. Every year, she spends most of the time fending off men who want nothing more than to get into her pants, wanting to nail her as simply another notch on their bedpost, or god forbid, to blackmail into something. It's nothing but harassment, but she won't or can't do anything. She just grins and bears it, stating it's still a man's world, and as a woman, if she kicks up a fuss, they'll find a way to get her out the door. She's one of my best friends, and there's only one man I know of who I can trust to be her date."

I gulped down the mouthful of beer and nearly choked. "You're serious?"

Mum chuckled. "Mark, she's surrounded by mostly middle-aged, married men who look nothing like you. You're young, you're fit, you're handsome. If you weren't my son, I'd take you as my date instead."

"Well, you'd look great on my arm, Mum."

She leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Thank you, baby. You've made me feel wonderful since you've come home. But we're talking about Lauren. You're always friendly with my friends but give her lots of attention on Saturday. I've suggested she ask you, but she's hesitant due to the age gap."

"Well, I don't exactly have a baby face, but I can grow a mean beard within a couple of weeks. That might help me look a little older."

"Mention you're an engineer too."

"Well, I will be one when I start my new job, but why?"

"Because most of them are judgemental pricks who'll make an opinion of you within a matter of seconds. Physically, you're better looking than most of them, so it'll be based on what you do for a living. Tell them what you do and who you're working for. Your employer is a reputable international company..."

"Done your research?"

"I asked Lauren to check the contract you were about to sign to make sure you're not getting ripped off."

"Oh... Thanks."

"You're welcome, baby. So, when Lauren is here on Saturday, give her some attention. I'll set things up for you, drop plenty of hints that you're interested, but she'll ask you in the end." She squeezed my hand before adding, "Please say yes."

"Mum, Lauren is gorgeous. I'd love to take her to your Christmas party."

"You would?"

"Of course. Sure, she's a little older than I am, but I'd be just as lucky to have her on my arm too."

Let's be honest, most of my mother's friends were a fantasy at one time or another. Lauren had always been one, particularly as she got a little older and filled out a little. There was Jessica, who was only a year or so younger than Mum. And there was Melanie, who was a couple of years older, but was one-hundred percent MILF. The sort of titties that would make you sit and beg for more.

I was a little distracted for the next few days at the thought of being Lauren's date for a night. It was the sort of fantasy I'd had a few years earlier. To be honest, it was still a fantasy now. She wasn't stupid and knew I'd had a teenage crush on her, but now that I was still a little older, I still had that crush but stupidly thought that perhaps she might even be interested if I could prove I was a 'man'. You know, have job, own a car, keep fit, my own house. Those sorts of things.

Waking on Saturday, I helped Mum with grocery shopping. She loved having my company, strolling along almost like a couple, both her arms wrapped around my left as we strolled along. I loved my mother dearly, but after what my father did, I doubled down on it as I knew my father had left her completely shattered.

Rebecca and I helped with some chores around the house before heading to the backyard for the afternoon. Rebecca looked fantastic in her bikini. I still found it difficult to believe she was single and, from what Mum insinuated, a virgin. I was never going to ask if that was true, but if she was happy to wait, that was okay with me. As for Mum, she walked out an hour or so later wearing one-piece that simply highlighted all her womanly curves.

"Looking fit, Mum," I stated, making her smile before she dove in to join us.

We lazed around until late afternoon, all of us heading inside to get everything ready. Stacy arrived a little later, already dressed but she got her hands dirty. I had offered to barbecue, but Mum said it would just be lots of snacks and even more booze. Unfortunately, out of Mum and her five best friends, only one of them was still married to her first husband. Two were on their second marriage, one was currently separated and looking at divorce, Lauren and Jessica were divorced, Lauren single while Jessica had a series of toy-boys as she wasn't interested in a second marriage.

Told to dress nice, I showered, brushed my teeth, before wandering into my room. I selected a light-coloured short sleeve shirt and trousers. Slid my good watch onto my left wrist. Doused myself in deodorant before applying a little cologne. Combed my hair, checked my stubble was neat. Loafers were the order of the night as we wouldn't be going anywhere, or at least, I didn't think we would.

Meeting the family in the living room, to say I made an impression wouldn't be an understatement. Mum smiled and hugged me, Stacy suggested I scrubbed up rather well when I tried, Rebecca kissed my cheek and I heard her inhale my cologne. "Wow," she whispered, "Hot date tonight?"

Meeting her eyes, I whispered, "You."

She blushed so brightly, the three of us chuckled. "Tease," she said playfully slapping my shoulder, hugging me tightly again, "But thank you, Mark."

Mum and Stacy joined the family hug. "Well, this is rather nice," I stated with humour, "How many men get hugged by three gorgeous women all the time?"

I think even Stacy was taken aback by my comment, earning a rare kiss on the cheek from her. As we split apart to make final preparations, I was put in charge of answering the door. Jessica was first to arrive with a man no older than myself on her arm. It was rather amusing, as I knew she was a co-worker of my mother, so I wondered if he was someone she'd met at work and got her claws into. I greeted her with a warm hug as always, shaking hands with him, introduced as Tom. He wasn't exactly the sort of bloke I thought Jessica would end up with, immediately knowing who wore the pants in that relationship. He did want a beer, at least, though asked for something mid-strength as he was designated driver.

"So, Jessica intends on having a good night then?"

"Oh, I have no doubt she will," he said, managing a knowing grin. I laughed and slapped him on the shoulder.

Next to arrive was Cathy. She was the same age as Mum as they'd known each other since primary school, so for over thirty years. Still married to her first husband, he was on her arm as always. They'd had three kids over the years, and whenever I looked at them, even I could see they were as still in love with each other as they probably were the day they admitted their feelings. Giving him a beer, I made small talk, noticing Tom was already being kept close to Jessica.

"Latest toy boy?" John asked, sipping at our bottles.

"Seems like it."

"Wonder how long this one will last? The last young lad lasted four months before she got rid of him. Goes through young men like I go through underwear. Then again, after how bitter her divorce was..." He trailed off, clearing his throat. "Anyway..."

"Don't worry, sir..."

That made him laugh out loud. "Mark, you're a little old to be calling me 'sir', even though it's respect. I'm John. Is your mother okay? She looks happy, at least."

"Yeah, been delighted since I returned home. I think she likes having a man around the house again."

"Any word from your father?"

"I have little to do with that cu... Um, I mean..."

"Say no more, Mark. I understand."

Melanie, a former colleague of Mum, on her second marriage, though her husband wasn't with her, arrive with Danielle, the only one of her friends currently separated. After giving Melanie a hug, Danielle did her best to smile. Melanie wandered off to join the others as I found myself hugging Danielle for a few minutes, feeling her clutching me tightly.