Sudden Moves

"So you can literally tell him you're coming out here to spend time with me and that you'll be back late. And he's going to be okay with that?"

"If anything, he'll be glad I'm being so discrete by taking care of my dirty business a few towns away. I mean, he won't know that you are my dirty business. But I imagine that in time he'll see 'going to visit Randy' as a euphemism for getting some action. Or he could assume you're actually being a nice and supportive son, hanging out with his mom. That could be a reasonable assumption for two or three evenings a week. If I call, and say we had a few too many glasses of wine, and I need to stay the night...what can he say? I can even hand the phone over to you, so he can be sure I'm not staying the night with some stranger." She reached under the ruffled bedsheet to feel the tension in her lover's cock. He was ready to go again. "He asked only that I don't humiliate him." She threw off the bedsheet and straddled her son. "He doesn't want to know about..." She skewered herself on Randy's eager hard on "...this!"

***

Beverly knocked on the door, and held her plate of cookies still to listen.

She expected the heavy footfalls of the sexy guy she'd seen letting movers into the place earlier that week.

It was a surprise to hear the sound of a woman's voice.

Then there was the sound of laughter.

She thought of sneaking away from the door. But that would be creepy. It would be better to endure the embarrassment of being there when the door opened.

She heard the man's voice, but couldn't pick out the words.

The woman's voice was easier to understand. "I guess you were right, but then you should answer the door since I can't..." something. Had she said, "balk rate"?

The man's voice was deep, but she believed she heard him say, "You can make it. I believe in you".

The doorknob slightly as someone put their hand on it. Then the woman's voice was clear on the other side of the door. "Ugh! But my hair is such a mess."

The door was pulled open, revealing a stunning woman in her late thirties... early forties? Her dark brown hair was, indeed, sticking out in every direction. She wore only a large man's T-shirt. It hinted at average sized breasts and covered only the tops of her tone and lean legs.

Then, the man spoke from across the room, "Like your mom when you were a kid?"

Yikes!

The woman's mouth dropped wide open, and her eyes popped. Beverly thought she might be offended. But she laughed and nodded and nearly collapsed there in the doorway with laughter.

Must be some kind of inside joke.

"Am I acting ditzy too? Can we completely confirm my theory? Am I a total ditz now?"

"Not yet," He answered with a shit-eating grin. "Give me another week or two, and you'll be -- what did you call her? -- a total space case."

Both laughed again. The woman finally turned her smile on Beverly. "Hello!" She turned back to the guy again to say, "I may take you up on that offer." Then she turned to Beverly again, and said, "Hello. Sorry. Hello again. Ooh, you have cookies."

Beverly thought she could be kind of a ditz.

"Hi, I'm Beverly. I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I'm in apartment 3 on the first floor."

"Wow! That's sweet of you! Do you bring cookies every time someone new moves in?"

The young woman looked away and blushed, but resumed eye contact almost immediately. "No, but I was making these anyway with my sister last Sunday. I saw..." She glanced into the apartment at the shirtless hunk walking toward the doorway. Her eyes went round. He was as good looking as he had seemed from her window. "Someone moving in up here."

Catherine couldn't contain a knowing smile. The blond with the baby-blues and the cheerleader's body was in her early twenties at most. She'd seen a hot guy moving into the building, but hadn't seen his mother. Or she'd seen Catherine and assumed she was his mother and no reason not to make a move. She liked this one. She had nerve enough to go after what she wanted, and the integrity to face her mistakes.

Beverly could see she had been read like a book. This wasn't a ditz after all, just a woman in an oversized T-shirt with crazy messy hair. "Look, I didn't realize there was a couple moving in. But I still want to welcome you to the building. I hope you will like living here."

Catherine gave her a warm smile, and said, "I don't live here. This place is Randy's." She looked up at Beverly's official new neighbor who had stepped to her side and slipped his arm around her waist.

He extended his free hand to the one woman welcoming committee. His other hand slid down to hold the older woman's hip. "That's me. Hi. Randy Porter." They shook hands, then he accepted the plate of cookies.

"Beverly Warner. Nice to meet you." She turned back to the frazzled beauty under his wing.

"This lovely creature," said Randy, "is Kate Sullivan, my girlfriend."

Kate? She thought. She'd never been called that. Catherine, Cathy, Cath and even 'Cee' by a college roommate. But she couldn't process that for now. She looked up at Randy dazed. "Girlfriend?"

He looked down at her as if he were the older and wiser of the pair. "Sure. Why not?"

Beverly interjected without thinking. "Wait. He never called you his girlfriend before?"

"No! We've been having a good time the last week or so, but he never called me anything like that." Never, 'Kate.' Nothing like 'girlfriend.'

"Is there another term you would use?" Randy broke in. "Adults use the term girlfriend/boyfriend too." He turned to Beverly to add, "She'd been out of the dating pool for a while."

"No, I know that!" she said, elbowing her young stud. "It's...we never decided..." she let the sentence go unfinished.

"Aawww!" whined Beverly. "This is so sweet."

"You're keeping some of your underwear here, right?"

Of course her sexiest and sluttiest undergarments lay hidden in one of his boxes. She was only supposed to wear them for her son. She glanced, sheepish, at Beverly, then back at Randy. "Y...yes." Her voice was soft and heavy with emotion.

"Believe me, Kate. That means you're my girlfriend."

There it was again. "Kate." She hadn't been Catherine Sullivan for nearly a quarter century, and she didn't need to go back to that. But also, under Randy's arm and in a stranger's view she didn't want to be - couldn't be - Catherine Porter either. Kate Sullivan was a taste of what she'd been and what she'd become. It could be good to be Randy's "Kate." At least some of her days and evenings. Would she want to be Kate every day?

Maybe some day.

Maybe never.

A playful pat on the rump brought her attention back. Randy spoke. "She's in dreamland again. You think she should agree to be my girlfriend, don't you Beverly?"

"Yeah," Beverly nodded like an expert. She directed her answer to Kate. "You're totally his girlfriend. It's pretty obvious."

The End

***

"After twenty years with a large police department, I've learned that people are flawed and are constantly acting in ways that defy logic. It is that illogical meandering, driven by either lust or love, that brings depth to a story. Simply because you could not see doing things a certain way doesn't mean another person wouldn't find it not only acceptable, but preferable."

---DetectiveSpecialist on his bio page

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