The Love Bite - Ch. 02

Saturday morning, Julianne woke late from a fuzzy, fudge-minded doze. Some abstract noise out in the street must have dragged her unwillingly from her dirty dreams. She reached down between her warm, smooth thighs and touched her swollen, gooey lips. She half-remembered her dream-time fantasies of fondling a teenage brown-skinned bombshell. She threw off the covers and the air cooled her moist skin. She opened her legs and dipped a crooked finger into her creamy mess. She brought her other hand to the party and closed her eyes to think about how that gorgeous girl's ample lips would feel if she were being kissed.

She raised her hand to her mouth and sucked her free-flowing juices from her skin, imagining how the glorious young girl would react to that funky, tangy taste. Would she like her intimate flavours? Her scent? Would she bury her tongue deep inside, where her fingers now were, to lap and dart and twist and drive Julianne crazy with longing?

She pinched her swollen hooded nub between two fingers and imagined those fingers to be Josie's big, sexy, kissable lips. Her slimy fingers massaged her breasts and tugged gently on her broad, hardened nipples, wondering if the girl would be hesitant or decisive. Would Julianne need to lead her? Teach her? Would she have to guide a timid creature or would a bold young vixen be in control and demanding? Would she want her as much as she wanted Josie?

As Julianne increased the pace of her fingerfuck she knew in her heart that she and Josie would reach an unspoken understanding, both responding to each other's touches in a telepathic turn-on that would be perfect and secret and harmonious and wild. The warm aroma of her fresh come helped spur Julianne on to further heights of sensation. Her hands worked all her favourite areas that she knew would build up to a lovely, freeing, crazy orgasm.

She was thinking, 'God help me, I need to taste that kinky little bitch!'

*******

In the shower, after some more languid, post-orgasmic self-loving, Julianne let the crystal jets and streams of tropical fragranced suds cleanse and vitalise. She lowered her head and the strength of the hot water blessed and renewed her. She remembered how hers and Josie's relationship had been developing over the last few weeks. Her, Josie and her son would regularly watch teevee together or go out to eat or see a movie and they never once made her feel like a gooseberry or a charity case. Occasionally Josie would visit even when she knew Ashley would be out at college or his McJob. The first time it happened, Julianne was genuinely surprised but Josie had just smiled, shrugged and said, 'I thought we could, y'know, hang out?' They chatted about everything and nothing. They were close. Julianne found that she was often forcibly resisting the urge to touch her, to hold her in her arms, to kiss those wondrously full and smiling lips.

Julianne and Ashley had also gone through a transformative time with Josie bringing them closer together; playfully and innocently dissipating all their pent up resentments and tensions. Only yesterday, Julianne had been suddenly overwhelmed by the repaired lightness between her and her son that she'd grabbed him in passing and bear-hugged him.

At first, Ashley had found this strange and had asked, "Er, what's happening?"

To answer, she'd squeezed him tighter and told him that she didn't hug him enough and that she didn't tell him that she loved him enough. She'd felt Ashley relax and then his arms were around her and they'd hugged so intimately. Then he'd shocked her by putting his lips to just above her bare shoulder and sucking hard against his teeth. She'd laughed as he struggled to execute a perfect love-bite on his wriggling victim. She'd released their embrace and held him at bay with one restraining hand.

Rubbing her shoulder, she'd taunted him, "Damn, you're going to have to do better than that."

He'd given her a wide toothy grin and walked away. A small part of her remembered that that was the same exact smile that his bastard father used, the same easy charm; but she took a breath and disregarded the rising regret and hatred. She'd called Ashley back and kissed his cheek and told him once more that she loved him.

*******

After the shower, Julianne dressed in baggy sweatpants and a long, comfy woollen sweater. As she brushed her damp hair, looking into the mirror, she wondered if Josie was coming by today. She thought she'd pop in and, casually, ask Ashley.

Humming happily, she walked to his bedroom and pushed open the door to be met with a curtained gloom and an unmistakable sweaty teen fug. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and focussed on the blurry, brown, naked figure of Josie lying on her side on his bed. For half a minute Julianne wondered if Josie's quick and laboured panting signified a seizure or an asthmatic attack but her eyes scanned along the glistening body to be shocked by a vision of a thickly erect penis powerfully penetrating her from behind. Julianne put her hand to her mouth and bit down on the fluffy sleeve of her sweater.

Luckily, the owner of the penis was hidden somewhere further back in the unlit murk, behind the jiggling, gasping girl, and Julianne's intrusion remained undiscovered. She was frozen, absorbed by the sight of her well-endowed son pistoning repeatedly sideways and vanishing between Josie's openly splayed pink lips that lay nestled within a dense black bush.

She bit down harder on her muffled knuckle to stifle a whimper and let her eyes wander, moving from Josie's decoration of densely curled pubes across a heaving, wobbling pot-belly and along to Josie's small but bobbling boobs. After Julianne's scope travelled further to linger on Josie's beautiful lips, open in an 'Oh' of wet panting, she then realised that two wide, panicking eyes were peering right back at her.

They held each other's gaze. Julianne bit down harder on her wool-covered fingers to silence her surprise. She watched as a shocked, shamed Josie began to close her legs and try to cover her nakedness but Ashley had decided this was the moment to accelerate his mechanical thrustings, obviously working towards a climax that had been building for some time.

Josie closed her eyes and gave in to her boyfriend's determination, no matter who was spying, "Oh, fuck, fuck! Dios mio!"

Julianne knew she should withdraw but her lead feet would not obey. She stood and watched Josie jiggling, thrashing, huffing and snorting, her brown skin shimmering with sweat in the dark. She chewed on her pullover sleeve and an unseen but grunting Ashley pushed on into a mutual orgasm with fast, deep screws. Julianne wondered what that would feel like, that rapid circular poking inside her. She felt her own pussy flood as she watched Josie's being flooded with her son's sperm. Still, Ashley was trying to push impossibly deeper as he spunked.

Josie cried out and a final, violent push had a misjudged angle and Ashley's prick sproingled out, making Josie moan aloud, "Santa Madre!"

Julianne observed a solitary shot of milky semen shoot like a lighting bolt across Josie's black pubic curls and finally, her limbs responded to her urgent need to flee. Silently she backed out of the room. When Josie opened her eyes she saw only an empty doorway.

Julianne raced to the bathroom and locked herself in. She paced up and down, asking herself a million questions. What was happening to her? What was she doing? What did she think was going on? Recriminations filled her frantic mind until she could resist no longer pushing down her sweatpants and underwear then energetically masturbating. She leaned one hand on the wash-basin. Her knees felt weak. She looked down and saw, on the top of the pile of unwashed laundry, a pair of her son's black boxers. Without a thought she picked them up and sat down on the toilet.

As three of her fingers filled her throbbing gash, she held the stained underwear to her nose and mouth. She inhaled the stale, dirty aroma and her fingers flashed in and out of her gushing pussy.

"I am such a bad mother! I am such a bad mother!"

She repeated this mantra until a series of orgasms washed over her and calmed her mind a little but left her feeling depraved and evil. Her heart finally began to slow. She heard voices, footsteps leading downstairs, the front door being opened then closed. She looked down at the pair of boxer-shorts in her clenched fist, next to evidence of her son's natural emissions she could see where she had drooled over them.

"Christ," she said, "I need to get laid!"

Julianne retreated inwardly and kept herself to herself for the rest of the weekend. She did notice, however, that Ashley moped about the house while Josie was nowhere to be seen. She felt remorse that she may have caused a rift between them. She wondered if Josie had complained to her son of her creepy voyeurism; she hated the idea of Josie disliking her or being disgusted by her. She also felt remorse that she'd bitten a hole in the sleeve of her expensive Italian wool sweater.

*******

Ashley drummed his fingers on the kitchen counter, picked up his phone, plonked it down again, checked the large ornamental clock on the wall, sighed and resumed chopping vegetables. He decimated the veggies to appease his agitation. He checked the clock again and heard his mother coming in through the front door. He wiped his hands and went to meet her. He was just about to launch into his plea for help when he saw how dishevelled and exhausted she looked.

Julianne flashed him a weary smile, kicked off her heels and walked into the lounge to flomp like a rag-doll on to the couch. Ashley returned to the kitchen, scooped the veggies into the simmering pasta and threw together a large rum and cola with ice.

"Here, you look like you need this," he handed over the glass then sat down next to her.

"How much rum is in it?"

"About a pint," he grinned.

"That's my boy!"

Julianne sipped the drink and made low appreciative gurgles. Ashley enjoyed this rejuvenated version of their relationship. He'd thought they'd been sliding towards a constant antagonism with an ever-increasing cold distance between them filled with the hurt caused by his cheating, fraudulent father. And now, through the irrepressible cheerfulness of his girlfriend, they'd been re-transformed back into a loving pair. He pondered the current precarious situation with Josie.

"Ooooh, that's good," Julianne said, "Thank you, sugar. Today was hellish. Like a month of Mondays rolled into one."

"I've started dinner."

Julianne nodded, leaned back and observed him from behind heavy eye-lids.

"Why're you being so helpful? What're you after?"

"Mom, can I ask your advice?"

"Sure. Jesus, my poor suffering feet! I was up and around all day. I'm never wearing those goddamned heels again, I swear!"

Ashley patted his thighs, "Put 'em up here. I'll massage them for you."

Julianne swung her legs up and Ashley began to gently rub some relief into her sore soles and toes. She sipped her booze and watched him.

"They're not too, um, sweaty?"

Ashley lifted a foot to his nose and comedically sniffed loudly.

"They are horrendous but I'll cope, because I love you."

He resumed his attempt at a skillful foot rub and focussed on the sensate pleasure of the soft, slightly clammy, patterned material moving under his hands; the private scent of his mother's foot-sweat with a hint of leather shoe lingered in his nose and he was glad that his hardening prick distracted him from his worries; he was also glad that jeans hid this physical response.

'She has such beautiful feet,' he thought, 'Tender, soft. Cute painted nails. The neat curves fit so perfectly in my palms.'

Ashley glanced along his mother's nylon-clad legs and was fascinated at what dark delights might lay among the shadows under her skirt. He wished his hands could travel up these smooth chocolate-brown contours and discover... he blinked as he realised he was being observed and so acted the part of an innocently professional masseuse.

Julianne, flushed with alcoholic therapy and a weird unease at having her son smell her foot scent, watched him carefully, seeing the pleasure lit in his eyes. There was only the sound of his hands manipulating her aching flesh through the thin material of her pantyhose. Julianne felt surges of comfort wash over her and she relaxed. A small part of her sensed the beginning of a tingling turn-on but she purposely sought to repress it.

"So, my angel, you wanted to ask me something?"

"Well..." Ashley seemed both desperate to speak and unsure how to begin, "The other morning, me and Josie, we were, um, we were..."

Julianne presumed what he wanted to say but let him dangle for a minute before suggesting, "Making love?"

Ashley cleared his throat, "Yeah, and when we, er, um, finished... she just upped and ran off. Like, like I don't know..."

Julianne kept her face unreadable at this news. This was the conversation she'd feared. Josie had evidently told him that his mother was a leering, lonely, old pervert and it was over between them. The perturbed boy stared down at her feet as he gently but firmly massaged her soles and arches.

Julianne took another sip and cautiously asked, "She didn't say anything?"

"She said she'd forgotten some family thing she had to do. But I have a feeling she just made it up. I haven't heard from her since. I've rang her and sent messages. I was thinking of going over there but I don't know if she wants me chasing after her or, I just don't know."

"Hmm."

"I mean," Ashley absently fondled each of his mother's nylon-encased toes, "I don't think I did anything wrong. I, I try not to be like 'him', you know? I'd die before I hurt her. Or you."

Julianne filled her mouth with ice so she didn't have to confess to this charming, handsome, caring young man whose girlfriend she'd scared off.

"She's ghosted me. And, and I really like her."

"Okay. So," Julianne gathered her worn-out and rum-fuzzed brain back into coherence, "First, she ain't breaking up with you so put your mind at rest about that."

"How can you tell?"

"Because. We talk. About you. About your relationship. She's mad about you, you twit. She ain't leaving you."

Julianne drained the rest of her drink and fought the urge to tell him the truth about Saturday morning. She was utterly relieved that Josie hadn't yet spilled the beans.

"And, sugar, you needn't worry about being like your father. You're a hundred million miles away from being anything like him. So maybe you could try a little less hard?"

"How'd you mean?"

"Do nothing. Give Josie some room to go through whatever she's going through. Text her to say that you're here if she needs you but then give her a bit of space."

"But what could have happened to make her leave like that?"

Julianne swizzled the ice at the bottom of her glass, "Who can say? I hate to break the bubble of your male ego but it probably has nothing to do with you. Could be any number of reasons. Now I'm... just going to close my eyes for a moment, okay?"

Julianne relaxed back into the cushions and surrendered to her fatigue. Her son's gentle hands caressing her feet and calves were a sensual lullaby.

A blippty-blip sound woke her and she looked around, startled. It'd only been a few minutes. They were still on the couch, her feet still in his lap. He was looking at his glowing phone.

"It wasn't her," he said, disconsolately.

She stretched and leaned awkwardly to put her empty glass on the coffee table and was about to tumble off the couch but Ashley held her safely from falling. It was then she realised that one of his hands was slowly stroking her calf while his other had sneaked up her skirt to rest on her thigh. Seemingly innocently, he stroked his palms gently along the chocolate coloured fabric.

More depraved thoughts crept up unbidden to Julianne, 'If I were to just open my legs? Show him I wear no panties under my tights? Let him see how inviting my legs would feel along the insides of my thighs... Wait a goddammed minute! What's gotten into me? It's that girl! That chubby-cheeked villain, tempting me, putting ideas into my head. That corrupting witch.'

"I always did like touching your hose, as a little kid," Ashley said, "So soft."

"Yes, you did, didn't you," Julianne kept her voice flat and free of emotion despite the raging sea of turmoil turning her loins upside-down.

Ashley's phone lit up and he jerked out of his reverie to seize it.

"It's not her," he grumbled.

"You'd better give my legs back so I can go get changed out of these work clothes before dinner."

He raised his hands and she swung her legs on to the floor. She sat up and felt light-headed but a dead-weight.

"I'm beat! Help your old lady up, will you?"

Ashley laughed as he stood and helped wrangle his unsteady mother to her feet.

She held him close and said softly, "Angel, you'll never be anything like that rat-bastard."

She snuggled in for a blissful hug and then her booze-befuddled brain became aware of the sting of his love-bite on the nape of her neck. She graciously let him complete his assault and then held the grinning young man at arm's length.

"You sneaky bugger," she said.

"I had to get you back. Now we're equal!"

"Oh, it's not equal! Not by a long chalk."

She stepped into the hallway to look in the mirror by the coat-rack, yanking down the collar of her blouse to examine the flaming kiss-mark.

"Ouch. So not equal! You'll pay for that," she laughed.

"Wait a minute," Ashley said, leaning in the doorway, "It's not love-bite tennis. I was just getting my own back."

She started up the stairs, saying scornfully over her shoulder, "You're right, this isn't tennis. This is war!"

Ashley watched his mother's ample bottom wiggle from side to side as she climbed the stairs; he always thought her curves looked so tight in those work-skirts she had to wear. Something made Julianne pause and she turned and looked back at her wolf-like son and the delicious hunger in his eyes. He smiled and returned to his simmering pot of pasta. She wrote it off as the booze playing tricks on her tired mind.

*******

Julianne had drunk even more that evening and went to bed in a stupor. She awoke in a startled frenzy, realising at once that she had failed to set her alarm clock. She brushed her hair then dragged on yesterday's hose, bra and skirt. She threw on a clean shirt and dashed out of the house, unwashed and unbreakfasted. That evening, she walked home after a day of trying to catch up with herself. She knew why she was all at odds, she was unconsciously but purposefully trying to distract herself from feeling awful about what she'd done to Ashley and...

"Speak of the devil," she said to Josie who was sitting on the front step, hugging her knees.

Josie sprang up, "Hola, Ash's Mom, sorry, I mean, Julianne."

Julianne wished she still had youthful legs that could so easily leap up like that, with no twinges or creaks.

She fished around in her bag for her door-key so that she didn't have to make eye contact, "Ashley won't be back from his shift yet."

"It was you I came to see, actually."

"I expect you want to talk about Saturday morning?" Julianne said while thinking, 'Oh-shit-oh-shit-oh-shit!'

Josie had to tilt her head back to look into the eyes of the taller woman, "I came to apologise."

"What on Earth have YOU got to apologise for? Look, let's go inside, shall we?"

Julianne opened up the door and kicked off her shoes in the hallway then Josie followed her into the lounge and they sat together on the couch.

"It's me who has to apologise, to you, Josefina," Julianne began.

"But-"

"No buts. I have no excuse. I was... just... when I accidentally found you two, um, I was kinda mesmerised and-"