Someone Else's Spring Break

"He likes her, but he is a dirty horse, you know that... Speaking of which, I have to put him in his stall and feed him, then I will get started on dinner." His mother stopped him with speech before he made it to the door.

"Oh, honey no, it's your birthday, I will cook and do the dishes tonight..."

"It's your birthday?!" Jeanette had butted in without realizing it. Her voyeur was yelling the same thing in her head. Diane said nothing to remark the outburst, just noted it with a nod to Jeanette. Diane knew at least one of her sons would never exploit the other.

"...and don't you dare try to help. You always cook for me honey, you make me breakfast, and you keep the property, and you clean the house. Take a break - huh? - and go play with Ed for a while." Milton was going to say something, but his mother butted him out once again.

"Do you think you could give me a hand, Jam?" Diane was looking through her for only a moment, before going back to sweet mother.

"I.. uh... I've never.. uh, um.. cooked before, but ...ok...?" Jeanette almost sounded like Milton, without the deep voice. The tone was unintentional.

Milton and Diane both smiled at her, she was a cutie. Milton's smile made Jeanette bra clad nipple hard. Diane noticed her attraction, sad for the trouble Micah Milton had made for Milton Micah.

"Don't worry. Sweetheart, you can just help a little, if you want? Yeah? Don't worry Milly, we'll take care of this, go play with Ed, I will be nice, I promise."

When Milton was out of the house, after stealing an apple off of the counter, Diane immediately turned from the door to, the now not smiling, awkwardly frightened by the gaze, Jeanette.

"I know you slept with my Micah, and that's fine. I know you want to sleep with my Milton, and that's fine too. I don't care what you do in my house as long as you make him happy. But hear this little lady, don't you break Milly's heart.. not him, not again, not that one. Remember I have plenty of places to bury you." When Diane removed her pointer finger from Jeanette's direction, she was all sweet mother again.

"...ok... I... didn't think this all.." Jeanette was slightly overwhelmed. Diane was beautiful though almost in her sixties, as naturally blonde as Jeanette was, and far more straightforward than she imagined. She was definitely Micah's mother, her level of intimidation suddenly a mirror then gone again in drama.

"That's ok, I understand." Diane was speaking kindly, dramatically - that's where Milton had gotten it - again, as before. "So what kind of vegetables do you like?" Diane felt this girl was definitely both of her son's type, knowing Micah was a fool for throwing her away, and that Milton did not want her scared away.

She knew good mothers help their sons; she would help Milton this time, and chastise Micah when she saw him.

***

"I said 'don't you dare' and I meant it, mister." Diane was talking to her son, Milton, even though she had not looked over as she sliced the small birthday cake she had brought home.

Milton froze in place with a plate in his hand. He had been attempting to help Jeanette who had voluntarily offered to clear the table. It was the first time Jeanette had ever cleared a family dinner table, it seemed like fun to her.

Milton sighed, and sat back down into his chair against the wall. Jeanette just laughed at him, as he watched the breasts that no brassiere could contain the life of move within her brassiere, instead of attempting to continue helping. He was enamored by the 'ass-away, breast-forward' as she traveled from cloth to sink.

Dinner had been conversations about the past. For instance: Milton's and Micah's intercrossed names had been for their father, and grandfather on Diane's side; or how Milton had taken over his father's hobby and turned it into a small business; or how Milton had stepped up to take care of the property, even though it didn't 'matter' when his father, who always had, had passed.

Very little was spoken about Micah, short of that he had always been a brat, but that was never uttered from Milton. Very little was also spoken about Jeanette's past, short of her living and far too persnickety parents. Diane was going to change that with birthday cake.

"So what are you going to school for, sweetheart? Are you going to be a historian, like your mother? Or a professor like your father?" Diane had asked as she set the cake on the cleared table, as Jeanette walked back from the sink, and while Diane turned to grab the forks and plates and coffee from the counter shortly after.

"No, no... I want to be a veterinarian... but my parents keep telling me there isn't any money in it, plus it's not 'respectable' ...whatever that means," Jeanette was trying on the drama, "and that I should stick to humans, or to working for the Foundation." Jeanette was sitting down, looking down, now that her volunteer work was done.

Now Diane knew why she liked this son so much, despite the previous attraction to Micah's bad side.

"Medical doctors are just people who flunked out of veterinary school. That's what old Dr. Murphy always says anyhow. I think you should do what you want to, it is your life." Milton was trying to make her feel better, it worked. Jeanette was looking at him and smiling to his smiling. Jeanette almost tried to grab his hand as a slice of cake was placed in front of her.

"Happy birthday, Milton. I'm very proud of you, and your father would be too, honey," Diane was speaking sweetly, with love.

"Yeah, happy birthday, Milton," Jeanette piped up.

"Yup, uh.. Thanks?" Milton was not the birthday type, but he was appreciative, with a white smile for both, as he poured his coffee, and began eating his cake. Diane watched the cute couple that was not a couple trying not to not really talk yet failing. Milton was a doer, but he did not know how other people did. Good mothers know their sons.

"So did he clean his room?" Diane asked before a bite, her finish clearly apparent even while eating cake in a country home at a table with a decorative lantern -- on a doily. Milton nodded 'no' to her as he finished the bite.

"Well I was going to do it after-" His mother knew he was probably going to do it for his brother. He usually ended up just doing it for him, regularly, if only to prevent mice. In fact, Diane was counting on it.

"Don't yeo dare!" His mother almost spoke with her mouth full for the first time in fifty years.

Jeanette's voyeur stopped the cake on her own fork mid-stride. It floated in the air, but on her fork, and her mouth was still open in preparation. Diane had caught her attention as well.

Diane would have interrupted him sooner, but she had to swallow, Milton answered quicker than she expected. She didn't yell as much as go extremely stern, but she was now speaking in loving tones. "He has to learn, you can't keep doing things for him. He is just using you Milly. I love you both, but he needs to learn."

Milton just kept munching at his cake, as it was delicious, but also because he did not wish to speak in disparaging remarks. He knew his mother had had enough of the disagreements, Milton did his part, he figured that that was enough. (ha)

"I know you think that is just how he is, honey, but he is much different to other people than he is to you. He treats you harshly only because you let him. He cleans his condo..."

"He has a cleaning lady," Milton interrupted, and then was interrupted in succession.

"Yeah, he was only ever sweet to me, I would've never known what's up if it wasn't for you." Jeanette was only trying to help, it was not lost, her response perfectly unplanned as planned.

Milton was silent as they all munched away at the cake, and sipped at coffee. Diane was waiting; Milton could feel it; he answered as he felt he should. He had avoided saying what he would for years.

"It's not like I can just hit him, again, and I can't reason with him. Plus, he doesn't like Ed, so, there is that. I don't have anything he wants, or anything to threaten 'im with. What's done before is done, he's still my brother." Milton went back to his cake, not really caring anymore, finally letting loose his proper speech, and the thing on his mind.

It was all she needed to know without understanding the full connotation; all she had been wondering about how Milton Micah felt about Micah Milton; the things she had been wondering of since her voyeur heard the whole conversation through the loud phone during coffee.

Jeanette touched him for the first time since they were arm in arm, hours ago, as he was eating the last of his slice. Milton stopped in quite the same fashion as she had earlier, cake in the air, except his mouth was closed, and he was looking at her. Milton looked sad again.

"If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here. If he wasn't so crude, I wouldn't be here. If you weren't so sweet and just the way you are, I wouldn't be here." Jeanette gripped his arm for a moment, eyes sparkling, and then went back to cake eating.

Milton smiled, just looking at her softly for a moment, as the thought had not occurred to him up until that point. All at once, he realized what it took to get to those words. He looked up to his mother, Diane, who had set it all in motion. She had a huge smile, the intent of it, though, and the intent of the phrase following, were missed by Jeanette's voyeur.

"Happy birthday, baby," His mother said, sweetly, lovingly. Milton almost had tears in his eyes. The intent was not lost on him.

***

"If you want, tomorrow, I have to survey the property, but you could come with me? We could take Frick and Fricker, they would love it. If you want I can wake you up after my chores and you could help me saddle them up? Or there will be coffee and breakfast in the oven in the morning. Or, um.. uh.." Milton was trying, it worked.

"Sounds great, whenever you're ready, big guy..." Her exhibitionist was trying sneaky on for size. It couldn't help is as Milton leaned into the doorway, forearms and chest flexing in his shirt as he held his weight. Her voyeur was egging it on, not caring there was a mother in the room.

Diane was trying not to laugh.

"Ok, great... uh..well I have to get up early," it was nearly 10:00 PM, "so I am going to, uh.. go grab a shower, and hit the sack. So uh, just wake me up when you are ready for bed, and I will hit the couch... uh.. you know, keepthebedwarmorsomething.Uh, remotes for the TVs are on the couch in the living room, and on my dresser," and then Milton was gone.

The ladies sat at the sink, finishing the dishes. Diane was watching Jeanette; Jeanette was avoiding the cute one's mother, and thinking dirty thoughts.

"He sleeps like a rock you know," Diane said casually, cleaning soap off a plate slowly under the water. That alarm of his is the only thing that seems to wake him up, unless you try as hard as you can, and he probably forgot to turn it off..." Diane handed the rinsed plate to Jeanette.

"...every day at 6:00 AM. He thinks he is a light sleeper, I do not know why... My boys, just like their father. Micah is the wild hardheaded man he was, and Milton the responsible, beautiful man he was," Diane handed over another rinsed plate. "You know, Milton looks just like, just like his dad..." That was all it took.

Jeanette and Diane suddenly chatted away; the extra conversations Jeanette and her voyeur had been waiting for; Milton was correct, they were a bunch alike.

***

It was near midnight when Diane and Jeanette finally parted ways; Diane to a quick shower; Jeanette to Milton's room to prep for her own.

He was laying on his stomach, hugging the pillow under his head, in a pair of navy blue netted shorts that were now slung low and only covered most of his behind. He was facing the windows, back slightly turned towards the door, slightly off center in the bed. After Jeanette's close inspection, the conclusion of a lack of underwear became apparent. She heard the shower running.

"Milton...." She waited, testing what Diane had said.

"Milton!" She waited, staring at the tan line she could see.

"MILTON!" He never moved. Jeanette, emboldened, poked him lightly in the back with a finger. His skin barely moved under her touch, he did not, and he was warm even though the red blanket ended just short of his shorts - over his legs. She poked him hard enough to make her finger bend, and temporarily lighten his skin before the tan reappeared.

Milton was out, sleeping as rocks or in-shell buried turtles do. His head, on the pillow, on his arms, was just short of the headboard. His feet, in short 'new- white' white ankle socks, rested on the wooden footer. She placed a hand flat on his back, feeling his heat and heartbeat. His steady, even and quiet breathing slowly pushed her body's leaning weight to, and away from, his own, from it's own strength.

Jeanette had to stop, it had been a dirty day - and the shower had shut off. She grabbed the toiletries bag, and some tiny cotton shorts and an even tinier tee, along with a pair of socks, all for bed, and set them aside. Looking around the room, she spotted a towel, and an extra blanket and pillow for him for the couch, sitting on an upholstered chair in the corner.

She snatched up the towel, left the nightstand light on the low click, and stood in the doorway with the slightly parted door, waiting for Diane to exit.

"Goodnight, Jam," Diane said with a smile as she entered her room, well aware that her son was asleep out of view behind the 'closed' over door, and not on the couch.

"G'nite, Diane, thanks again for being so nice about allthis..." Jeanette was speaking from the bathroom door, holding only a towel.

"No problem, sweetheart, just remember what I said. There should be plenty of hot water, so take your time," and with that Diane was gone behind her door to a 'click' sound.

Jeanette was showering in two, orgasming in six, and out of the shower in fifteen. Twenty minutes later, she was drying her hair with the softest towel in the world, once again standing over, and watching, the sleeping Milton; totally naked, ready for lotion, and debating another orgasm as she licked her minty teeth.

***Tuesday

Milton was definitely better than the giant blue elephant, especially at ping/pong.

This particular elephant had talked more trash than Milton had ever heard. Milton, being good at hustling the pong/pings, bet the elephant that he could not win with a regulation paddle. The blue elephant could not resist the bet.

Milton had let the elephant serve first, as it would hook the fish. He had claimed 'fair is fair' knowing the elephant, no matter how blue he was, would never have a shot, not with that tiny paddle.

The score of eight to two - Milton -- only proved the point.

It was Milton's serve. He tossed the ball into the air, but the sound was all wrong when the hollow plastic struck the wood.

No ping.

No pong.

Instead, a fire truck was heard.

When the ball hit the giant blue elephant's side of the table, the same thing happened.

Then there was no more giant blue elephant; gone mid-swing of his trunk; poofed.

...and the fire truck was very, very close; Milton suddenly felt like he was about to sweat he was so hot.

...and then he saw that it was 6:00 AM in bright red letters.

He would have to rematch that elephant tomorrow, double or nothing. He let go of the hand he was holding in his sleep, mostly on his side facing the windows, and reached over to turn off the blaring alarm. His brain immediately went nuts.

There were bare tits on his back, and side. He knew it. He could feel the nipples drag across the hairless skin as Jeanette mumbled and cuddled into him, pulling him mostly onto his back as he returned to where he was. She was straddling his back and left side as he rolled her way, humping her burning hot mounds, above and below, into him.

Their contact was mostly above the waist with her left thigh across his flat yet round stomach. He was using the pillow; she was using his bicep from the outside, as a pillow, until he shut off the alarm.

Her lips were at the back of his left shoulder, now, as he tried to move without disturbing her further, kissing as her mouth moved in sound and burning breath. Her right hand, bound to his right shoulder in a grip, was almost underneath his body, while her left hand, now freed of his, wrapped around the front by sliding up his ribs. While she fell back asleep, the hand slid to his chest, split with a finger on either side of his nipple, and her left calf wrapped around parallel with his thighs, pressing her extra heat into him just above his left hip and butt.

Jeanette was missing his nipple and hardness by distances immeasurable with her fingers and leg parts. Milton froze; hand in the air, closing his eyes. He was trying not to come in the purling fashion of a wet dream; Milton thought he was still dreaming - wet dreaming. He was about to let loose if he did not calm down -- calm down and fast. The shock of it all at once could not be quenched and the cool air would not help the humid heat of their bodies. The blankets had been forced off in slumber - now covering only his feet, and her right foot.

Jeanette had extra heat down below and then some. Their bodies were terribly sticky and on the edge of sweat, her naughty bits were still humping his bare hip and hard 'love handle' from the back, still mumbling into his tan. It felt as if she were totally naked, above and beyond the bare tits on his back, skin to skin at all connections.

Milton had forgotten to tie the string on his shorts, swore that he turned off the alarm, and could not figure why a light sleeper as himself had gotten into this situation.

Milton could feel the cool air of the house; it was there, but almost not existent next to her temperature. This had to be a dream. He had to see. The hovering hand pinched first his stubbled cheek; "yup," he whispered, double proof at the sound of it; then he moved the hand down below.

Milton justified the feel of her cloth short-clad upper rear thigh on one side as trying to prove that he was not dreaming. He was hoping she would be naked, though he felt a seam of the garment. He squeezed - just to make sure - lightly, not at all expecting the reaction it would produce.

Janette, still sleeping in his opinion, slowly grabbed and squeezed and palmed what she could of his nipple and left pectoral in unison with the squeeze of her rump. In the same time, her teeth raked the back of his bicep at the same pace, mumbling still. She snuggled into him even more, pressing instead of humping; pressing unbelievably harder and hotter down below.

He was going to blow, no doubt about it. It was inevitable, and only a matter of in which of the next seconds it happened. He let out a long soft breath and a low quiet moan in preparation of fruition.

In tandem with his moan - but instantly after as well - Jeanette bit down on the back of his shoulder, moved her thigh down to rub the top of his netted cloth covered shaft, along with the back of her calf to rub the bottom, and pinched his nipple, breathing out onto his skin as hot as she could from within instead of mumbling in chorus with her movements.

Jeanette had been dreaming of Milton's package before the alarm; her voyeur had inspected the working conditions last night. Now she was awake, and thinking of getting to work early; Milton had been wrong, she was just mumbling sexy in the morning and not at all sleep-groping. She evenly pulled him so that he was lying on his back, on top of her right arm, still gripping his right shoulder but closer to his neck