Nothing You Haven't Seen Before...

"What's that? Shakespeare?"

"Emerson."

"Never heard of him."

I spread my hands once more. "Not my problem. Where's my coffee?"

She giggled at that, and it looked like it burst out of her without her meaning it. "You always were charming," she allowed, yawning, "and you never could control your dick." She looked pointedly at where I was pushing out my boxers.

"Funny," I said, deciding maybe it would be fun to get a bit edgy, "but your daughter asked me something just like that yesterday."

"Yeah, I did too," Evie sighed, her tone dry. "We Schott girls sure can pick 'em, apparently."

"Neither of you tends to complain about it, though," I pointed out.

"This is true." She looked speculatively at my crotch. "Are you all the way hard?"

I did that thing men do, sampling my body, testing. Flexing. "No."

"I don't believe you," she snapped, her voice suddenly hoarse.

"I've been harder." My throat had gone quite dry by now.

"Liar."

Here it was. I thought about her teases, her flashes, the last day and a half of smirky titillation from her, and I knew the moment had arrived. I slid my thumbs up under my t-shirt and hooked my boxers. "I can prove it."

Her big eyes were a hot flame. "Do it."

"We should lock your door," I murmured.

"No, dammit. You should prove it. Now," she rasped.

"Okay." I shoved my boxers down and over my cock, freeing it to rise into the supercharged air of Evie's bedroom as my underwear puddled around my ankles. I took my shirt off unasked, savoring the sudden lust flashing in her eyes, in the curve of her ecstatic grin as she stared at my cock. It stuck out in front of me, drooping just short of the horizontal, pointing vaguely down toward her pussy from halfway across the room.

She nodded, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. "I remember that dick," she nodded, her face turning red. Those big eyes roved up my body, finally finding my eyes with her usual look of challenge. "Seems you were right."

"You know it gets harder." I wasn't thinking anymore, my mind lost in the best and worst kind of abandon. It was scary and thrilling and so, so dangerous. So completely wrong. Unexpected and yet expected at the same time: three days ago this was an impossible situation to think about. But after yesterday? Last night, with the living room TV flickering off her glasses and illuminating her tit?

This was inevitable.

So I stood there nude in front of my girlfriend's mother, growing firmer by the second as my penis rose, ominous as a cannon. And Evie watched all the while, gnawing at her lower lip, her eyes greedy. I cleared my throat. "Did I prove it?"

"Hell yes." She swiveled her chair, still slumped back, her legs now spread out. I could see the white satin wink of her panties in between, peeking out from under her t-shirt. "So what now?"

"Now?" I scowled, reckless. "Now you go get me some coffee."

"I will," she growled, "eventually. But you've got a hard-on to take care of first, kid." She glanced up at me, her eyes now penetrating. "Did you use the shampoo yesterday? To rub one out?"

"You'll have to be more specific," I grinned. "I came three times yesterday."

"Of course you did," she gloated, "and you were thinking of sweet little Daisy the whole time, I expect." Our eyes met with a spark of mischief. "I have a bathroom back here," she sighed, nodding across the room, "so you don't have to go sneaking past her room like... that."

I took a deep breath, standing there naked and rampant, and tried a nonchalant shrug. "But your bathroom is, like, all the way over there..."

She scoffed. "You've become so high-maintenance."

"You ever tried to walk with a hard dick bobbing in front of you?" I couldn't stop myself, my penis crying for attention: I wrapped my right hand around it, cradling its hot weight. "It's no picnic, Evie."

"Well then." She sat forward in her chair, her elbows resting on her knees. "I guess you're just going to have to blow your load right here in my bedroom." She looked away from my cockhead, down to her floor. "All over my carpet."

I felt my heart lurch, quickening with excitement as my hand started to pull on my dick. When I spoke, I had to do it past a lump in my throat. "Too bad there's nothing to catch the spunk. Like, before it lands."

"Right?" When her eyes rose back up to mine, they shone. "I hate a mess." She hesitated, that mouth curving once more into an eager smirk, then she brightened. "I have an idea."

"I'm sure you do." I swept some precum out of the little piss-slit at my tip, spreading it across my head with my thumb while she watched, greedy. I knew this woman: I knew what would drive her crazy, so I reached my left hand down and cupped my balls firmly, giving them a good firm bounce.

She'd always enjoyed my balls.

With a little giggle, she leapt off the chair and went straight to her knees on her rug, looking up at me. I knew I was grinning just as big as she was. "Is this still foreplay, Keith?" she demanded.

"No." I widened my stance as much as my boxers would allow, completely lost in lust, wanting to show her everything I was doing. She scooted closer and closer to me, until she knelt between my feet, as close as she could get. Close enough to feel her breath on my pubes. "This is you being a good hostess, Evie."

"Mmm. Fuck." Her eyes crossed as she focused on my penis, extending straight over her face as she examined every detail. "I love your dick, Keith. I missed it." I watched, fascinated, as she ran her eyes over every millimeter, taking in all my veins and ridges, searching out all its secrets. I focused on the wrinkles alongside her eyes, the laugh lines there. The way her skin had aged.

I wondered whether she would blow me.

She leaned closer, her eyes half-closing, inhaling deeply as I felt the heat off her skin beside my balls: she did not touch me, staying carefully away from the corrugated flesh holding my nuts, breathing deeply. When she spoke, low and husky, I felt her breath between my thighs. "I can't believe you're here in my room."

"I can't believe you're here between my legs," I muttered, pulling myself with long, firm strokes.

"Yeah, me neither," she agreed, backing off slightly with a long sigh. She found my eyes again. "You're dry, kid. You really should have gotten that shampoo."

I had to swallow a few times before I trusted myself to speak. "If only there was a way to fix that."

"If only." She rose up on her knees, her nipples hard under her thin t-shirt, until she could look down on my furiously masturbating hand. "Hold still for a sec." I shuddered when I felt the gentle drift of her hair falling alongside my penis, then the steadying touch of her fingertips on my stilled hand. Even though I couldn't see her face now, I knew exactly what she was doing, the spit dangling from her mouth while she aimed it carefully onto my penis.

I'd never expected to be this close to her again.

Her saliva landed, warm and viscous on my reddened skin, and I spread it quickly up and down my shaft while she licked her lips and settled back onto her heels. My hand now made a slick, wet snick-snick noise, rhythmic and lewd as Evie arched her yoga-tuned back for me, glaring hotly between my dick and my face. "So fucking sexy," she whispered. "Such a hot cock you've got."

"I'm going to cum all over your shirt," I muttered thickly. "Can't have that."

"No, we can't," she agreed, my words giving her the excuse she craved, and she grabbed the hem of that long shirt and peeled it off over her head in one smooth, fast motion. I exhaled slowly, lustfully, as Evie's body came into view below my steadily moving fist and the hard, spit-slicked cock within it. She leaned way back, yoga-supple, with a possessive look in her eyes as she stared up at my body, her glorious tits on full display for me with her nipples as hard as I'd ever seen them. "All yours, kid," she whispered. "Remember, not my eye."

"Fuck." I gripped my balls tightly, taking those deep breaths I always took before I came, holding the last one as I angled my dick down toward Evie's waiting face and, with a shuddery groan, let myself go. The rushing dizziness washed through me, my knees going weak, and with my whole body shaking I unloaded.

The rush of my cum through my cock felt like gushing water through a firehose, the pressure intense, the feeling of relief dominating me. The first dribble found her chest, but the second spurt was much harder and higher, painting her lower face as she gave an ecstatic smile. Then came her upper face, forehead and nose, and then I was losing my aim, pulling mightily on my cock as I shot it all over her in rippling orgasmic waves that left my body drained and buzzy.

I didn't even realize I'd closed my eyes until I opened them, looking down on Evie's luscious body below me. She was chuckling, the laughter coming through a mask of my spunk as she straightened up. "Jesus," she managed, her tongue clearing her lips like a windshield wiper, "you say you came three times yesterday? That was..."

"Copious?" I was calming down, my breath slowing as my penis slowly, slowly softened in my hand.

"That was a lot of fucking cum," she nodded, squeegeeing my spunk from her cheeks with her fingers. She licked it off, trying to make sure none of it fell on the carpet. "You've still got some on your head," she noted.

"Well?" I was feeling pretty fucking exultant. "Clean it off."

"So bossy." She did, though, leaning forward with her tongue extended, and then, for the first time in two years, I felt her mouth on my penis. I shuddered, but it wasn't anything too impressive. Just a kiss. "You liked that."

"I didn't think we'd do anything like this again," I blurted.

"Me neither." She shoveled the last big gob from her nose down to her mouth, then got to her feet like an uncoiling dragon. "Still foreplay, huh?" I was naked and she was nearly so, bare but for a simple pair of white panties.

"Well." I smiled. "Maybe just 'play,' now."

"Maybe." She reached her hand around to my ass and gave it a brisk swat. "Get going. I'm going to clean up and then make you some coffee, kid. Can you do me a favor and empty the grounds out of the press?"

"Already did," I preened, pulling up my boxers.

"Well. You're useful in a host of different ways." She looked down at me, shaking her head slightly. "We might be in a little bit of trouble here."

"Not as much as we'll be in if Daisy wakes up," I pointed out. And yes, there was a pang of guilt. But just a small one.

"Good point. Get a move on." She strode off toward her bathroom, moving like a model on the catwalk, her sturdy body tempting me. "We'll talk later."

"Only after my coffee, Ms Schott."

"Get the fuck out, boy."

* * *

In fact, there is evidence that Fekete's 1433 bigamy conviction (ibid., p 144) factored into the University's decision to terminate his employment there in 1462, implying that whatever unspecified offense of which he was guilty at Vienna was, perhaps, not too dissimilar to what had happened that night in Kostolac with the banker's daughter in 1432. In any case...

"What happened with the banker's daughter?" Daisy demanded. "What banker?"

I rolled my eyes. I liked reading my work to her, just for comprehensibility, because I figured if a layperson like Daisy could follow my reasoning, then it should work for my Symposium audience. But she had an unfortunate way of not paying attention very well. "The banker was most likely a Jew, and Fekete fucked the daughter and got her pregnant," I explained again, somewhat reproachfully. "I read you that about three paragraphs ago."

"Sorry. I remember. Go on."

"Okay. In any case, the expulsion from Vienna coincided with the ending of the composition of the Cycle of Miklos, and might help explain the darker tone of the end of the piece." I looked up from my laptop. "Sound okay?"

"Maybe it should be 'at' the end of the piece, not 'of' the end of the piece." She frowned. "I think you'll need more evidence to link that change in tonality to him getting fired at Vienna," she said after some thought. "That's if there actually is a change in tonality..."

"Yeah, I haven't written that part yet. But the change is there. I will." She was a smart cookie, was my Daisy. It was part of what had attracted me to her. I smiled at her. "Thanks, Daisy Duke."

"You're welcome, Keithie." She blew me a kiss from the far side of the sectional. "I love you."

"I love you too." It was so easy, really, to forget coating her mom's face in my jizz a few hours before! I supposed it was true: you really can rationalize anything. In this case, I told myself I'd merely been flirting with an old flame. That was all.

Right?

"The overall thesis," as I explained to her for the thousandth time, "involves Fekete's dissonance between his support for female religious institutions and his tendency to fuck anything with two legs and a vagina. Then I have to place that into the context of his disdain for Ottoman bureaucracy, which scholars still don't necessarily agree on."

"You so smart," she cooed.

"And maybe ten people will show up for my presentation," I shrugged. "So I guess it doesn't matter much."

She smiled, a slow curl of her lips that, I now realized, looked a lot like her mom's. "It matters," she insisted, putting her tablet aside. "I'm off to pee. Be right back, boyfriend."

"No problem, girlfriend." I watched her rise, her tight shorts clinging to her slim, lovely little body, and tugged my penis roughly back into its normal place. It had been pretty calm today, given its monster ejaculation this morning, but now in the pit of the afternoon it was starting to wake up a bit. I went back to my laptop, barely even noticing when Evie puttered through with a trash bag. "Fuck, Ms Schott, let me take that out to the garbage for you."

She stopped short on her way past the fireplace, one eyebrow twitching toward her hair. "I'm fully capable of taking out my own trash, Keith, thank you very much."

I nodded, smiling, then shrugged. "Happy to help, is all."

"As long as I reliably make you coffee?" She stared at me, and we both smiled slow, secret little smiles. "In return for... well. Your friendship and warmth."

I listened for sounds from the bathroom. "Uh, so, are we going to pretend this isn't happening?"

She shifted the bag on her shoulder. "What's that, Keith?"

"This." I hesitated, then gestured randomly toward my penis. "Us. Our attraction."

"Our attraction." Her slow smile grew. "Is that what we're calling it?"

I heard the toilet flush. "It's happening, Evie."

"It's already happened, Keith," she purred. "The rest is just a question of degrees, right?" We stayed like that until the bathroom door opened, Daisy erupting in wrath as soon as she saw what was going on.

"Keith! You asshole!" She stood, hands on her hips. "Why on earth are you letting my mom carry the trash out to the curb?"

"Yeah, Keith," Evie winked, "you asshole."

"Get up and help her!" Daisy shouted, but I could tell she wasn't really pissed. I hoped my hard-on wouldn't be too obvious as I stood, but I wasn't worried: it was just half-hard, or even less, and I wasn't wearing loose athletic shorts like yesterday. Evie still had that smirk as I took the trash bag from her shoulder, and for an instant I let my semi drag along her hip as I turned away. She giggled.

"Thank you, Keith." She glanced at her daughter. "So nice to have such a handsome and capable man in the house this weekend."

"My pleasure, Ms Schott," I muttered, letting them both see my eye-roll.

* * *

She served us an excellent dinner that evening, knowing we'd be heading out after breakfast Monday morning, and as I chased the last of my bowtie pasta across the plate she and Daisy traded lively comments about her dad's dating life.

I took the dishes in afterward, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed that Evie didn't come in and hang with me. She did pass through, bustling in and out from the office, where she and Daisy were going through some of the shit Daisy had left there over the years. I kept glancing at her as she passed, but got nothing but veiled looks in return. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I had to say that after yesterday's flashing and this morning's facial I was sort of confused at being ignored like this.

That confusion did not last forever, though.

She found me while I was coming out of the bathroom, lurking against the wall in the hallway as soon as I stepped out of the door. I was heading back to the living room, where I figured Daisy could listen to a few paragraphs I'd written about good ol' Zhondar F. Whether she wanted to or not. But she did, because she loved me. I nearly ran into Evie as I turned toward the living room. "Oh. Hey!"

"Hey yourself." She leaned there coolly in a pair of sweatpants and a tanktop. Her tits swelled smooth and inviting as soon as I caught sight of her.

"You changed your shirt," I noticed smugly.

"I thought you'd like this one." She yawned for effect, then stretched her arms high. "So. You think Daisy's going to sneak down to the office tonight and fuck you?" she asked quietly.

My dick lurched at once. "No..." I mused, wary. "We actually talked this afternoon about how great it would be to sleep together again when we get back to campus tomorrow night, free from the domination of her wicked evil mother."

"Yeah," she sighed, shaking her head scornfully, "she's never really had that killer instinct, to go and take what she wants. It's why she'll never take over Ahab's." She thought for a moment, casting her eyes down the hallway toward the living room. "I'll bet you don't want to wait until tomorrow night to get laid, though, do you?" Her lips twitched into a small smile when she nodded at my crotch. "You're probably ready to go right now, huh?"

I swallowed. "You know me pretty well," I shrugged.

"Yes. I do." Her eyes were glinty obsidian as she moved close, the smell of her shampoo reaching out to enfold me. She stood a few seconds, looking up at me, then reached boldly out to cup my dick. I grunted when she squeezed. "Remember when I said I loved teasing you?"

"Yup." I was breathing faster as her fingers groped, now wandering up and down my thickening shaft.

"This isn't teasing," she told me, fast and low. "This is an invitation. I'll be up late, boy, if you know what I mean."

Jesus Christ. "I know what you mean." My hand shot up to grab her heavy tit behind its tight tanktop, her eyelids fluttering as I squeezed. "See you later, Ms Schott."

"Yes. I think you will, young man." She gave my erection one last twist, smiling savagely, and then she slipped out of my grasp and disappeared toward the front of the house. Leaving me to wonder just what I'd let myself in for.

* * *

It was around midnight when I found myself creeping through the house once again, bound for yet another surreptitious visit to Evie's bedroom door. I'd kissed Daisy goodnight around half past ten, having fried her brain with my Fekete notations, but she was usually not a night owl anyway.

Neither was I. But I was certainly going to be tonight.

I hadn't worried about wearing a shirt, and as I padded through the family room I wondered why I'd bothered to wear anything at all. I wasn't hard, not yet; I had been, waiting the forty minutes or so to make sure my girlfriend was fast asleep, but the tiptoe through the silent house had softened me up. I reached the master suite as the moonlight slanted through the French doors at the other end of the dining room, and hesitated while trying to decide whether to knock.

Nah.

I turned the knob, crept inside, and shut her door behind me, all in about two seconds.