Starting from Scratch Ch. 09

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Thanksgiving with Rhea.
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4.69
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Part 9 of the 14 part series

Updated 12/02/2023
Created 08/11/2022
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Pinkender
Pinkender
1,176 Followers

To the reader; from Pinkinder,

To all of you enjoying this story. Thank you for your patronage, your likes, your stars, and your favorites, and thank you for your patience.

There has been much anger and oppinion about Margaret and Leslie's handled of finding Thomas in bed with Cheyenne and Lauren. Some of you are now rooting for Emma, Anna, and maybe after this chapter Rhea or Janette. On the other hand, I have had many many questions like; "Where is Margaret?", "What happened to Margaret?", and "When is Margaret coming back?" Well, to answer the first question, during chapters 7, 8, 9, and 10 Margaret in in Montana living with Leslie and her daughters. In chapter 6, it is Febuary by the time Cheyenne and Lauren self-destruct. Now, the second question. Nothing has happened to Margaret. She is still the main female protagonist. She will be making her reappearance very soon. And, now to answer the last question. There is one more chapter, the Christmas chapter, where Thomas is going to make some hard choices. He's been just drifting along letting ap sea of women toss him to and fro. He's got some harsh realities he need to address, as in the fact that Margaret is pregnant and he still loves her. Anna loves him. Emma loves him. There are like seven Masquarade divorcees that want him. And, a mom that needs him...

What to do? What to do?

So, expect Margaret's reappearance in Chapter 11, and Leslie and the girls' in Chapter 12, I am aiming for the final Chapter of this particular story arc to be 15. There will be a short break and then Chapter 16 will pick up with a relative as the new main protagonist, and this new story arc will be completely Mature.

So, there it is, I hope this gives you some answers and appetite for whats coming soon. -Pinkender

----(!)----

Chapter 9- Thanksgiving with Rhea

Movie Marathon

Over the next two weeks of November, Thomas found himself a very popular guy. All of the women he fucked during, and after, the Halloween Masquerade slipped him their contact info before leaving, and later he found a napkin stuffed into his pants with one more name and address. All of it was a source of non-stop teasing from Emma up until she went and took it further by calling the ladies herself and scheduling several private NSA hookups.

The mummies were the exception in that they were besties and preferred to do their extracurriculars together. That is, until the third week of November when Janette Smith, the oldest and most beautiful of the mummies, called Thomas directly for an exclusive hookup night hosted at her place.

Mixed and mingled among it all, he also had several date nights with Emma and Anna. Emma was usually the easier-going one, keeping their conversations on whatever her current client and job was, while Anna talked about family. She reminisced about old times, but amidst it all, she dropped none-too-subtle hints of her desire to move in. She had her own place, and for appearance's sake, she wouldn't sell it, but what she wanted was to, at the least, move a few of her things in. Clothes. Makeup. Stuff that would make it easier for her when she spent the night. So, Thomas's office was combined with Emma's Batcave while the old office was turned into a spare bedroom. Not that Anna ever used it.

----(!)----

The week before Thanksgiving, Thomas's phone rang. It was early in the morning and he found himself reaching around in search of his phone but was blocked by a very large-breasted woman. At first, he thought it was Anna, but then he woke up more and realized he wasn't in his bed, or even in his home.

"Mmm," She moaned drowsily as she twisted away from him and patted around her bedside in search of the offending noise.

She found it once she finally turned over and looked for it. Picking it up, she looked at the caller displayed on the screen, then back toward Thomas and purred, "Hey lover, are you already making plans with your next girl after you leave me?"

"Hmm," Thomas grunted as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at his phone in Janette's hand.

"Should I answer it and tell her you're currently indisposed," She teased.

Thomas flashed her a closed-mouthed grin before replying, "I doubt my sister will care, but if you insist..."

Janette's expression turned very devious as she hit the button to accept the call, "Thomas Goodspeed's phone, how may I help you?"

There was a quick burst of indistinguishable chatter in Janette's ear to which she replied, "Janette Smith."

More chatter and Janette answered, "Fifty."

There was one more burst of chatter and then Janette handed the phone to Thomas with a wry "Oh, you are in trouble now" smirk.

He put the phone to his ear and said, "What's up Gretchen?"

"Dude!" Gretchen yelled into his ear, "Seriously! That woman is older than mom!"

"So? She's a mature woman," Thomas replied, "and, I can have sex with any woman I want--of any age I want. Now, what did you call me for? Surely it was not to check up on my sex life and to make sure the women I'm fucking are young enough for me?"

"Thomas," Gretchen said, this time in a slightly milder tone, deciding to use reasonableness instead of outrage since it wasn't getting anywhere, "She's fifty! What kind of a relationship are you going to have with a fifty-year-old woman?"

"A mutually gratifying one," Thomas said.

Gretchen hissed into his ear, but seeing as she wasn't making any headway gave over, "Fine! Whatever! Look, I'm calling because the kids and I are going to Jeremy's parents' home this year for Thanksgiving."

"Good. Be safe," Thomas said.

"Thank you, we will," Gretchen replied, "But, that's not why I'm calling. Annalee isn't coming home from college until Christmas, and dad invited Damian and Scott out to California, so mom is all alone this year. Could you, pretty please, go spend Thanksgiving with her? Please! So, she isn't alone..."

Thomas looked over at Janette as she stared back at him. She may be fifty, but she was a stunning, age-defying, fifty. She also made him think of Margaret, and then that made him think of the pregnancy. Looking down Janette's body to her fine lower belly, he answered, "Sure, Gretchen, I will take care of mom. Don't worry about her. Oh, and, don't worry about me either..."

"I will always worry about you, Thomas," Gretchen replied, "and, thank you!"

She hung up and Thomas turned to Janette and purred, "Now, where were we?"

Janette pressed her breasts against him as they kissed, and then she was rolling him onto his back so she could climb on and guide his already rigid cock to her warm wet pussy...

----(!)----

The week passed and Thanksgiving arrived. Thomas informed Anna and Emma of what was up and his plans to spend the next few days out at his mom's place. As it turned out Emma had her own family she needed to go see, and Anna, well, she was all on board with him spending some quality time with his mother. As she said as much Thomas noticed that she had this curious way of standing and looking at him. It reminded him of something he couldn't quite remember, and the way that she looked at him--it was different--more dreamy, more in love if that was even possible. And then there was the way that she stood with her fingers laced, her elbows crooked, and the way she rested her hands on her belly. It was all very strange and somewhat hauntingly familiar, but he couldn't place it, and so, he packed a suitcase and left for his mother's house.

It was a two-hour drive down the coast before he came to a stately four-bedroom Mediterranean-styled bayfront home. He bought the home for his mom as soon as the check cleared after selling his App. It was the best investment he'd ever made!

Dismounting the Triumph, he walked to the front door and knocked. After a few seconds, he rang the doorbell. A few more seconds and the door finally opened.

"Thomas!" Rhea exclaimed in her usual honeyed, motherly purr as she stepped back and beckoned him inside, "You made it! How was the drive?"

Rhea stood, framed by the door jam, like a copper-redheaded goddess of motherhood and fertility. She looked every bit like Anna. Just older. Thicker. Matured. Her chest and breasts were 38i-cups, her waist was 32 inches, and her hips were 46 inches, but Thomas could hardly tell at all since she was also five feet nine inches tall and pleasantly plump in all the right places.

Thomas inwardly chastised himself for thinking of his own mother in such a lude and sexual way. However, ever since he slept with Anna he found thoughts of his mother creeping in while he and Anna were having sex.

'Stop it!' He thought to himself, 'Rhea is my mother!'

"Not bad," He vocalized as he stepped past Rhea as she closed the door behind him.

"Then why haven't you come and visited before now?" She asked, her whole expression hurt, "I have been sick with worry!"

"I'm sorry mom," Thomas apologized as he turned into her and wrapped her in a tight but tender hug.

She resisted for only a moment. She was still hurt and she had more she wanted to say, but as Thomas held her close, she relaxed before starting to shake with soft sobs.

"Come on mom," He whispered, "Let's go make dinner, and then we can cuddle up on the couch and watch some Pride and Prejudice."

"Okay," She mumbled into his shoulder before letting him lead her to the kitchen.

Dinner was a simple affair made up of two large turkey sandwiches with lettuce, tomato, bacon, and avocado on sourdough bread, a caesar salad, and a pickle on the side. Thomas made the sandwiches while Rhea opened bottles and tasted the wine until she found one that complemented the meal.

"I never got to tell you," Rhea said suddenly as she waved a glass of red wine beneath her nose, "That I'm sorry about Heather. I know you loved her very much. What she did... It was horrible."

Thomas nodded his head as he stared down at the sizzling bacon. Silent for several minutes, his thoughts tumbled about in his head. Margaret. Leslie. Cheyenne and Lauren. Emma. Anna. Heather. They filled his thoughts. They confused him. He loved them and hated some of them for different reasons and to different degrees. He had to acknowledge that he still loved Heather to some degree. Otherwise, he wouldn't hate her so much. Margaret. He loved her still so much, and yet he hated that she hadn't trusted him, or believed him when he said he hadn't had sex with Cheyenne and Lauren. He hated the fact that she had shown him that he could love again. Love someone else, and then she had broken his heart. Leslie, he loved her too. Not like he loved Margaret. He loved her differently. But he hated that she had so completely abandoned their growing relationship after finding him in bed with Cheyenne and Lauren.

He was beginning to understand how they must have felt though. In actuality, if he went by what he could remember, which wasn't much, he wasn't even sure himself whether he did or didn't have sex with them. Yes, he was beginning to get out of his head and finally see it from their perspective, and how it must have appeared! Or, maybe really was...

Leslie had just escaped an abusive relationship. Something he couldn't even imagine how horrible it must have been. Then, to have opened up to the possibility of love again just to find that man. Him! In bed with her daughters... She must have thought it was all happening all over again!

"Hey," Rhea said softly from just behind his shoulder as she slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him from behind, "What are you thinking about? You look a little--lost..."

"Sorry, mom," Thomas mumbled, "It's just... a lot has happened this year."

"I know, son," Rhea replied in a soft empathetic purr as she squeezed him tightly, "I was a wreck after your father left. So, I know what you're going through."

"Really?" Thomas sighed.

"I don't remember you struggling with dad's abandonment," He said.

"I did," Rhea whispered, "I tried to do my best when I was in front of you kids, but I spent many nights crying myself to sleep."

"I'm sorry mom," He repeated as he flipped the bacon and took out what was ready to set on a plate to cool.

"You did nothing to be sorry for, honey," She reassured, "You--didn't do anything wrong. None of you did. It was me and your father, and honestly, I shouldn't have been surprised. We were both unhappy for a long time before we finally called it quits. But, after that, honey, it was mostly you and your help that kept me from breaking down so many times!"

She squeezed him again and then left to set the table. Thomas made the sandwiches and set them on the plates. He added the salads and pickles, then brought the food out to the dining table. The wine was already poured into wine glasses and Rhea was already seated. So, Thomas placed her plate before her and took a seat just to her left.

"This is really good!" Rhea said in an amazed tone after the first bite of her turkey sandwich.

"And, it's still technically turkey dinner," Thomas replied with a grin and a wink.

"Yes, it is," Rhea chuckled.

They ate in silence for a while after that, each of them contemplating their own thoughts. Rhea finished half her sandwich and then pecked at her salad until she finally asked, "Are you going to tell me about it?"

Thomas stopped chewing his food as he looked up with a perplexed expression. After a few seconds of swapping stares with his mother, he finished chewing his food and swallowed.

"Tell you about what?" He asked.

Rhea's hazel eyes turned flat and she pursed her lips as she said, "Heather. Your drive around the US. What has your thoughts so preoccupied? What have you been doing since your return? Etcetera..."

"Mom," Thomas sighed, then looked at the wine and continued, "We will need a lot more alcohol."

"That's fine," Rhea replied as she looked down at her plate and said, "I think I am done for now. How about you?"

Thomas looked down at his plate. He still had a quarter of a sandwich left, but thoughts of Heather and Richard fucking on his marriage bed turned his stomach.

"Yeah, I think I'm done for now too," He replied.

"Good," Rhea said in a warm purr, "Then let's retire to the living room. You go on ahead and take your wine glass with you. I will wrap the sandwiches up and put them in the refrigerator for later."

Nodding, he obeyed his mother and left for the living room.

----(!)----

It took a few minutes before Rhea joined Thomas on the couch. When she came into the room she brought two bottles of her best fortified red wine. She had seen her son under the influence of this particular spirit before and knew he needed it.

Thomas, seeing she had changed wines, drained the last of the medium dry red that went well with the turkey sandwich and proffered his glass for a refill.

Rhea had this--indescribable--smirk as she filled his glass all the way to the rim. Carefully, he brought it to his nose and let the aroma fill his senses. Then, he took a deep swig and swished it around his mouth.

"This is good!" He said once he swallowed and sighed.

"I know," Rhea purred.

Thomas took another drink, and Rhea glanced at the couch and down at her attire. It wasn't anything special. She had needed to go to the grocery store earlier before they closed. So, she was wearing a pair of stretchy, tight, almost painted-on blue jeans. Her bra was just a standard white cotton one, nothing special. And, a long-sleeve button-up green flannel.

"Go ahead and drink that glass of wine," She purred, "While I go change into something more comfortable."

"Okay," Thomas replied and took another swig, the warmth trickling down his throat and warming his chest.

Rhea smiled and then scampered off to her room. It was a large master suite with a grand bathroom, but for once in a really long time, her large self-standing tub was not her destination. Instead, she took her shirt, bra, pants, and panties off in a rush, then turned her shower on. While the water was warming up she gathered up her mid-thigh length, curly, copper hair. It was rather easy since it was in a forearm-thick braid. She wrapped it around her head and then pulled on a shower cap.

Stepping into the shower she began to wash her body in a rush. She shaved, and then paused at the thick forest of copper pubes decorating her pubic mound. She decided to leave the forest but groomed the edges before shaving everything else. She shaved her legs which really didn't need it, her legs were naturally hairless. Or, at least, they appeared that way since her body hair was short, soft, and transparent. Five minutes later she hopped out, dried off, let her hair down, put on deodorant and perfume, and then headed out to her chest of drawers.

Rhea wasn't really a lingerie kind of woman. To her thinking, it only lasted five minutes, and then it was torn off. Still, she had a couple of delicate things she could dawn...

Suddenly, realizing what she was doing, she stopped. Looking up, her eyes staring off into nothing as she imagined what she must look like, she gasped, "Rhea! What are you doing?"

"I'm acting like a love-struck little girl trying to seduce a boy," She answered herself.

"Wait! What?" She said as she turned to her standing mirror and looked herself up and down, "Love?"

"Of course, I love my son," She hissed under her breath to herself, "But, I shouldn't--LOVE--my son!"

"Seriously, Rhea," She growled, "Grow up! You're his mother!"

"So what!" She replied defiantly, "I don't care! Anna loves him. Hell, she is already fucking him! So, why not me?"

"You... are... his... mother!" She argued with herself.

"I don't care!" She insisted.

"Well then," She said as she looked herself up and down, "Then let's at least dress my age. Dressing up would only clue him in that something is up..."

----(!)----

The television was on. Thomas had spent his time waiting for Rhea by finding the VHS movie pack of Pride and Prejudice and getting everything set up. He was back on the couch refilling his glass of wine for the third time when Rhea came back. Looking up, he saw her and blinked his eyes. He couldn't look away.

She was wearing a soft, yellow, cotton nightgown that lit up when she walked in front of the lamps illuminating the room and silhouetting her body. She glided into the room and sat on the opposite side of the couch from Thomas. Then, she turned toward him and brought her legs up, briefly flashing thighs, ass, hips, lower belly, smooth white pussy-lips, and a thick muff of copper pubes before reclining and placing her feet in his lap.

"Okay!" She purred, "Now that I'm comfortable, tell me everything."

Thomas caught Rhea's scent in the air. She smelled of clean soap and lavender perfume.

"I've had three glasses so far," He declared as he tilted his wine glass towards Rhea, "You should drink fast and catch up!"

Rhea's laughter was a delightful tinkling that tickled his ears, made his skin goose, and set his cheeks to blushing before she purred, "Oh, I will!"

She kicked her legs again, up and back over the side of the couch, flashing Thomas again as she turned to lean out toward the coffee table so that she could grab her glass of wine and take a deep swig before sighing, "So good!"

She took another drink which finished the glass then poured another, finishing off the bottle. She took a third swig, and then with another sigh leaned back and turned back around. Kicking her feet up onto the couch, she flashed her smoothly shaved, pretty white pussy, and a thick thatch of copper pubes at Thomas a third time before settling her heels on his lap once more.

"So, are you going to tell me your story now?" She asked in a husky purr.

Thomas was still looking at his mother's lap right where her nightgown fell and gathered high on her thighs just above her crotch where he had just seen a wonderful thing. It was hidden now by her closed thighs and crossed ankles. But still, was she flashing him on purpose?

Pinkender
Pinkender
1,176 Followers