Senior Year Memories Ch. 35

"You're thinking farther ahead than me," I admitted. "I should probably work on that."

"You really should," she said. "Senior year's not gonna last forever. We've all got a future to think about."

"I know," I replied, shrugging sheepishly. "I guess I still hadn't thought a lot about getting anyone pregnant yet."

Kaitlyn smiled playfully. "Well, you should keep that in mind; life doesn't run on porno logic forever, and I know more than a few girls who'd be more than happy to get some buns in the oven courtesy of you."

"More than a few?" I asked, equally intrigued and intimidated.

"More than you'd think, probably," she said, stroking my chin playfully as she finished getting dressed. "Face it, Ryan; you're hot, and girls are hot for you. Have fun with it."

I smiled, pulling up my pants as I tried to straighten myself into some semblance of a human being ready to get on with the rest of the school day. I don't think I was fully successful, but I could manage given the circumstances.

"Thanks," I replied. "It's still difficult for me to understand that at times."

"Well, if you ever need a reminder, you know I'm around," Kaitlyn said.

"I know," I said, taken by a thought I had to express. "And, Kaitlyn?"

"Yeah?" she replied.

I grinned. "A guy could do one helluva lot worse, too."

Smiling, and without saying a word, Kaitlyn approached me, threw her arms around me, and kissed me deeply.

***

There are things in life you can completely prepare for, and there are things you can only do your best to get ready for. I think trying to seduce one of your best friend's hot moms is usually going to fall into that latter category, because there's only so much you can predict. Everything beyond that is a minefield of potential fun and potential downfall that you can only hope doesn't explode in your face and leave a whole lot of people miserable.

And so, I prepared for my journey to the Kent house to the best of my abilities. I went home after school and showered both the school day and Kaitlyn off of me. I brushed my teeth, got dressed in a decent shirt and clean pair of jeans, and hopped on my bicycle to take a leisurely (and hopefully sweat-free) ride over to the Kents'.

While I may not have been in exactly the fighting shape I could have been, I was still plenty ready for some fun by the time I reached the house.

It was an unassuming suburban home, like nearly any other in Regan Hills. The only trait that differentiated it from any other house in town was the simple sign bolted to the gate leading to the backyard that read:

LOVELY LADIES DANCE STUDIO

DANCE LESSONS BY APPOINTMENT ONLY! -- BALLROOM, BALLET, POLE & MORE!

It could easily be mistaken for an ordinary home in an ordinary town, which made the knowledge that the homeowner threw some of the most debauched parties in town under the guise of a humble book club... well, all the more delicious, really.

Parking my bike on the front porch, I rang the doorbell and waited for an answer.

I didn't have to wait long, as the door soon opened on a truly gorgeous woman.

"Why, I didn't order a handsome young man today..." Viola Kent said, playful. "Hello, Ryan."

I'll admit, I may have stood there agog for a moment or two in her presence, but when you're around someone as transcendentally gorgeous as Viola motherfucking Kent, you don't have much of a choice. A woman in her early 40s who looked considerably younger, she had the toned, muscular-but-not-bulky body of a dancer. About 5'7" with a lot of that height being mouthwatering leg, she was a sight to behold in her matching black yoga pants and sports bra that eagerly hugged her firm ass and modest B-cup breasts. Her skin was lightly tanned, a look that worked well for her from her exposed abs to her shoulders and neck that just begged to be kissed... but her face... my god she was stunning. Her eyes were brown and soft, yet alive with playful, knowing energy. Her nose was dainty and pointed upwards, while her lips were stuck in a casual grin that matched her eyes' playfulness. From our one previous encounter, I knew her hair was silky and black and cascaded down to her mid-back, but she had it now held up in a tight bun.

Looking at her like this, I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at how familiar this was, standing on the front porch of one of my friend's sexy moms and getting a look at her in her workout clothes. I was hoping this one would end better, however.

"What's that laugh for? Cat got your tongue?" Viola said, her voice sultry and making it very difficult for me to accomplish anything constructive.

"I'm, uh, sorry, Ms. Kent," I said. "I just-"

Raising an eyebrow, she cut me off. "Am I going to have to remind you to call me Viola?"

"No, uh, Viola... sorry," I said.

Touching my arm, she laughed. "Come in, please, come in!"

I followed her inside, closing the door behind me and taking my shoes off at her direction.

"I'm afraid that Sarah is out for the evening with friends, and that she won't be back for quite a while, I think," Viola said, leading the way further into her house. Watching her walk, I couldn't help but notice the sway of her amazing ass, and felt myself getting quite hard at the thought of what that tight body would feel like.

She continued, "Of course, you're more than welcome to stay as long as you want; our house is your house and all that. There's soda and snacks in the fridge."

"Thanks," I said, wanting to slowly make my way toward discussing why I was here. "But, actually, I'm kinda here for you."

"Kind of here... for me?" Viola asked, amused.

I licked my lips nervously. "Well, yeah. Sarah told me that she'd be out this evening, and she's been worried that she hasn't been around much and that you haven't had a lot of company lately, and was wondering if I might keep you company for a bit while she was out."

As a mix of the truth and a cover story went, I didn't think this one was bad.

Viola looked back at me, considering. "Well, my daughter is a thoughtful young lady, isn't she?"

"She's the best," I answered, meaning every word of it.

"Yes... she is. I'm very proud of her," she replied.

"You should be," I said. "Sarah's awesome."

Viola laughed. "That she is... but you're not here to talk to me about Sarah, are you?"

"I'm not?" I asked.

"No... you're here to keep me company, right?" she purred, playful and enjoying every bit of discomfort she might have caused me.

"Oh, yeah, right... that's what I'm here for!" I exclaimed.

"Good, because I was working some in the studio, and wouldn't mind some company. That is if you wouldn't mind me enslaving you for a little while," Viola said.

"Uh, come again?" I replied, thoroughly confused.

Laughing playfully, she touched my arm. "I'm putting together some mailers and packages for local businesses, to see if they'd run my ads."

"Oh!" I exclaimed, my voice probably hitching up much higher than usual. "Yes, of course, sure, I'll help!"

"Wonderful," Viola said, continuing to saunter toward the back yard.

If I'd meant to be the aggressor when coming here, I was doing a piss poor job of it so far. Then again, I knew there was a fair chance I'd be way out of my league when it came to Viola Kent. The woman was confident, radiated raw sex appeal, and had a cool, laid-back energy to her that could easily fill any room. If I wanted to guide things, I was going to have to step up my game.

We walked across the back yard into an old, if large, separated garage that she had converted into a dance studio. Without looking like much on the outside, on the inside it had modern enough walls, decent hardwood flooring, and one wall that was taken up entirely by a floor to ceiling mirror (with barre at about waist height), and of course in place of pride against the far wall, a pole dancing pole. When taking into account the lighting and sound rigs she had, it looked like a pretty decent studio, so long as you ignored all of the boxes and rolled up mats and other odds and ends pieces of furniture she had pushed up against one side of the room.

"So, about that whole 'enslaving' you thing I was talking about..." Viola said, her voice provocative and her intent vague as she motioned toward a nearby cardboard box. A handful of stuffed manila envelopes leaned against it, clearly a task partially finished.

"I'm putting together some promotional packages for local and not so local businesses to advertise the studio. Flyers to put up on bulletin boards, pamphlets for motels, business cards, things like that. You'll find one of each of those documents in the box there, and manila envelopes to stuff them into. Would you mind stuffing them for me?" she asked, looking up at me and smiling sweetly.

Yeah, that was a smile that could get just about anyone to do terrible things.

"Sure," I said, sitting cross-legged on the floor and getting started on the task.

"Good... because I am in desperate need of a stretch, and I need to get this done, but have had far too long a day to get properly excited for stuffing envelopes," Viola said, stretching her arms above her head and closing her eyes, giving me a rather wonderful view of her tight body. She looked quite pleased at the simple stretch, and if I'm being honest... yeah, I was rather pleased with the view too.

"It's my pleasure, Viola, honestly," I said, then deciding to toy with my limits. "Though it sounds like what you really need is a massage."

Viola arched an eyebrow. "And you're offering?"

Trying to sound mysterious, I replied, "Maybe."

Pursing her lips, impressed, Viola nodded. "I can see why my daughter likes you."

"Thanks," I said, starting work on putting one of her promotional packages together.

"I mean it," she said, walking up to the barre running along the mirror and easily kicking her right leg up onto it. Viola leaned forward onto the barre, stretching her fingers to the toes of her balanced leg. It hurt me to look at, until I focused on how great it made her ass look.

Easily, she continued to talk to me while stretching, "Confidence and respect can be rare traits to find together in equal measure in a guy. So often it's just the confidence, and that part can inflate to some... unfortunate places. My ex-husband for instance..."

"Sarah hasn't told me a lot about him," I admitted. "But I take it he wasn't a good guy."

"You could say that," Viola said, pulling out of the stretch and dropping her right leg from the barre, only to replace it with her left leg and begin stretching again. I'll admit that the view was very, very nice, even if I wasn't getting my envelopes stuffed very quickly. "The warning signs were there, but I didn't want to see them because he was a smooth talker, and he was so hot. He knew the right things to say and when to say them, and to a girl who'd dated a bunch of losers, he finally felt like a winner. When I got pregnant, he proposed, even though I could see the reluctance. I should've... he told me he'd cheated in previous relationships. I should have known better, and now I do. At least I got Sarah out of it."

She stayed in this position for a moment, before popping out of it and turning to me with a smile. "What I'm saying is that, from my experience, confidence without decency can lead to some pretty terrible outcomes, and I am pleased to know that you have that decency if you're going to be hanging around this house."

"I'm happy to oblige," I said. "It's not like it's a cultivated thing, it's just there."

"And that makes it even better," Viola said, then dropping to sit on the floor while facing the mirror. She spread her legs wide and leaned forward, stretching in a rather delicious pose.

Something wasn't adding up, though, and I felt compelled to ask, "You keep saying you know I'm decent... I gotta ask, though, how do you know that? We haven't really talked in any significant way before."

"No, but I trust my daughter's understanding of character; she wouldn't casually invite just *anyone* into her bed," Viola said, grunting slightly as she leaned further forward in this stretch. Her ass looked amazing through her tight yoga pants, and I had to remind myself to breathe. "Ever since the two of you have become friends, I've seen her blossom in ways I've only ever hoped for her, but never dared push her towards. Her shyness has always required patience and understanding, and that would require decency. That's... one of the reasons I know you to be good."

"What's the other reason?" I asked, looking at her in the mirror, down the hint of cleavage in her sports bra.

She grinned at me. "You have your friends, I have mine. They speak well of your character."

"My... character?" I asked with a teasing smile, knowing well what friends she meant.

"Oh, very much so. Lauren, Janelle, Wanda, Brenda... they all speak very highly of your character... among many other things, of course," Viola said, her tone mischievous but curious.

I grinned back at her, liking where I could take this. "I imagine they would. Tell me, what do they have to say about me?"

She smirked at me in the mirror, enjoying dancing around this subject clearly every bit as much as I did. "Well, let's see... Brenda and Janelle tell me that you're an excellent student, incisive and intelligent, occasionally rather funny even. Everyone says that you're very kind and considerate, a good listener..."

Licking her lips, Viola dropped her voice in a beautifully sultry way, "...and that you're hiding a fucking tree trunk in your pants, and have a tongue and fingers that can make a woman cum very, very hard, as many times as you'd like, and that you like it to be many, many times."

I tried to look thoughtful, before confirming, "That sounds like stuff they'd say about me. Always good to hear, though."

"And would you say any of it's true?" Viola asked.

"They're your friends, what do you think?" I shot back.

She answered, "They're my friends, but I know that when a woman's horny, she's willing to say anything. I enjoy girl talk as much as anyone else, but sometimes I like to get it from the source."

I grinned again. "Yeah. I like to think it's all true."

"Interesting," Viola said, considering. "Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean anything either. Back when I used to dance at the club, guys would tell me things all the time thinking they could impress me. I would smile and nod, because they had already paid and that was the job, but I quickly grew a strong bullshit detector. Most other guys who could boast of what you're talking about, they'd set off all sorts of alarm bells... but not you. Like I said, interesting."

She closed her legs, lying back on the floor. Planting her feet on the ground, she bent her knees and arched her hips off the ground in a bridge. It lifted her sports-bra clad breasts into better view from where I was sitting, something I was rather certain she was completely aware of.

Viola said, "Tell me, Sarah didn't send you here to keep me company today, did she?"

I laughed. "Actually, she did."

"Did she, now?" she laughed in response.

"She said you hadn't had any real male company in a while," I explained, "and thought some might be good for you. So, here I am, to keep you company."

"*Company*," Viola said, her tongue rolling over the word in as sexy a way anyone might have ever said the word before. "Really?"

I set the envelope I was working on back with the others, finally getting ready to move past this pretense.

"I'd be lying if I said that I was thinking that I was thinking this afternoon would end with me leaving this place only having stuffed envelopes," I said.

Viola pulled herself out of the bridge, then sat up and turned around to look at me. "And what, pray tell, Ryan, do you hope to stuff this afternoon?"

I licked my lips nervously, wondering if I had it in me to push this to exactly where I wanted it to go. I had started this month embracing some degree of confidence, wanting to push myself out there and be the man I always knew I could be, but in the presence of someone as stunning and powerful as Viola Kent, I found that harder than expected. Could I really say what I wanted to say to a woman like her when the opportunity was teed up so perfectly?

Yes. Yes I could.

"You," I said, easily.

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Well, first, I hoped I might see what you were capable of with that pole over there," I said, finding my voice surprisingly confident. "Then I hoped we might take it inside where I could show you what *I* am capable of."

Viola Kent eyed me for a while without moving, her face betraying little past her curiosity and amusement.

"It's not often anymore that I get hit on by an eighteen-year-old," she admitted. "Not uncommon, but not often. I've never said yes, because if I'm being honest, eighteen-year-olds on average don't know what they're doing."

"You've surrounded yourself by the wrong eighteen-year-olds, then," I said back, letting a little cockiness slip into my voice.

Viola grinned. "Maybe I have."

She looked from me, over to the pole, considering. "You know this is messed up, right? You being my daughter's... *friend*, and everything."

"Is that a problem?" I asked.

"It should be. I love Sarah, and while we share pretty much everything, this would certainly be a first," Viola said, clearly on the cusp on talking herself either into or out of this.

"Do I have to remind you that she sent me here?" I asked.

"Once or twice might help," she replied.

"Well, she did," I said.

Viola looked from the pole, back to me again. "Fine. You want to see what I'm capable of? I'll show you what I'm fucking capable of; you just better be able to back up your claims with more than just words."

I watched as she stood up and walked over toward a corner of the room that held a folding privacy screen. "What, you don't trust Brenda, Lauren, Janelle and Wanda?"

I kept my tone teasing while she pulled a few items of clothing and a pair of heels from one of the nearby boxes. She said, "They're my friends, of course I trust them, but that doesn't mean I don't want you to bring your A-game."

"I will," I said.

"Good," Viola replied, satisfied with the items she'd picked from the box, then stepping behind the privacy screen. "Now pull up a chair and get nice and close to the pole. Not too close, I need some room to spin, but if you want a show... you're going to get a show."

I was more than happy to see such a show, grabbing a chair nearby and putting it in front of the pole at her instruction.

Looking to make some uncomfortable conversation as I tried to see more of her outline through the privacy screen, I said, "So, I get the impression that this is nothing new for you."

Viola laughed as she changed. "I grew up dancing, and wound up stripping through college. Until I got married and had Sarah, anyway. I dropped out of school, stopped dancing, for obvious reasons, and it wasn't like my ex would approve of me doing it anyway (not that it stopped him from going to clubs). But once he was in the rearview mirror, I started getting my life back in order. Got my business degree. Opened up my studio. I've been a good mother to Sarah, and hopefully a good example for her, but now that she's an adult... I have taken to the stage some in recent times."

"Oh?" I asked, finding it even more tantalizing that this wasn't just something she did at home.

"It's not that big a deal," she explained. "One of my old friends from my dancing days now has a club of her own, and I pick up a night or two here and there when a little extra cash would be good for us. And... because I love the power, honestly. A lot of the men who come are pigs who are used to power think they can dictate how things go, and I get to tell them how wrong they are. On that stage, all those eyes on me... I can control their arousal, and they pay me for it. It's rather wonderful, if I'm being honest."