The Single Mothers Club Ch. 02

I started rubbing Ashley's feet, finding the tense muscles on the ball of her foot, working my fingers down her sole and between her toes. Ashley gave a quiet moan, still watching the TV. Her feet were right in my lap, her heels resting above my cock. I tried not to think about it, but my dick definitely stirred as she moaned.

"Oh god," Ashley suddenly sighed, "this movie is so boring. But I feel like I need to finish it. I'm going to fall asleep if we don't talk. How was your week?"

I told Ashley about the work I'd done for the moms in her Single Mothers Club. Ashley listened, but kept watching the movie. She reached over to refill her wine glass, and took a deep sip. When I finished describing ridding Erin's garage of the dead raccoon, she put her wine glass back on the coffee table.

"So," she asked, "you and Erin, huh?"

"What?"

"You stayed for dinner and didn't call me. Was this another Lupe situation?"

I felt myself blush. "Um, no, we just had dinner. She's nice."

"Oooh, nice, huh?" Ashley teased. "Come on, she's a total hotty. She's got huge tits and a skinny waist, isn't that every guy's dream?"

I laughed, a little embarrassed. "I guess. She is very, um, pretty. And she's got a really nice sense of humor."

Ashley scoffed. "Every guy says they're attracted to a girl's sense of humor. But I think that's just a code for a girl who's willing to swallow."

"What?" I nearly spit out a sip of beer.

"Hey, let's play a game," Ashley suddenly suggested. "I want to know more about you. Let's play Hot or Cold. I'm going to say something I think is true about you, and tell me how close I am to being right. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," I said. Honestly, anything to get away from Ashley teasing me about Erin!

"Okay..." Ashley paused for a bit. Her eyes were still on the TV. "You like... those intellectual artsy indie movies."

"Hot," I admitted.

"Yeah, you're a total college boy! Your dad couldn't stand them, it was all action or horror for him. Your turn."

I thought for a bit. "You can't stand cold weather."

"Cold!" Ashley scoffed. "I love the cold because I get to break out my favorite sweaters. It's also the best snuggle weather. Hm... you always order the weirdest sushi you can find at a Japanese Restaurant."

"Warm," I replied. "I honestly get embarrassed ordering anything too weird, like I'm just a typical white guy trying to seem cool."

"You need to take more risks," Ashley said.

"My turn. Um... you really like white wine."

"Hot, hot, hot," Ashley said, taking another big gulp from her glass. "But that's cheating, you already knew that. Remember what I said about taking risks? Let me show you how it's done. Let's see... you like... to cum on a girl's tits."

"Oh my god!"

"What? Tell me how close I am!"

My cock immediately swelled in my pajama bottoms against the weight of Ashley's feet. I noticed her heels stir a bit, as if feeling for me.

"Okay, um..." I took a deep breath. "Hot, yeah. I think that's really sexy."

"I knew it!" Ashley crowed. "Okay, you need to ask me a sexy one now. Come on, take a risk."

I tried to think of a sexy suggestion that would still be safe. "You like... to get spanked."

Ashley, with her eyes still on the screen, asked, "You think I'm a sicko like that?"

"Oh god," I immediately backtracked, "I didn't mean-"

"Relax you perv, I'm just joking! You actually got me right on target. Hot. I love getting spanked by the right guy."

My heart was pounding in my chest.

"Let's see," Ashley took another sip of wine. "You like... anal sex."

"Cold. Well, maybe warm. I've never tried it."

"You've never tried anal? What did you do for four years in college? Oh buddy, you are missing out!"

I had a sudden image of Ashley's ass, her cheeks spread, in front of my engorged cock. I was getting seriously hard now, and I knew Ashley could feel it. Her feet were gently grinding down against my growing erection.

"Your turn," she reminded me.

"Okay, um... you like to get your hair pulled."

"Like at the grocery store?" Ashley teased.

"No, I mean... you like to get your hair pulled during sex."

"Hot again. You're good at this."

Now Ashley's feet were moving back and forth along the length of my cock. Her eyes were still locked onto the TV, but I saw her chest moving quickly with her breathing, her breasts standing out against the flimsy fabric of her pajama shirt.

"Hm..." Ashley bit her lip, thinking. "You like fucking older women."

"Hot," I admitted, a little too quickly. I saw Ashley smile.

"You like getting your..." I hesitated. The idea that had popped into my head suddenly seemed too impulsive.

"Go on," Ashley said.

"You like getting your... well, you like it when a guy... um... fucks your mouth..." I felt my gut drop even as my dick swelled up even more.

"Hm..." Ashley thought. She raised her fingers to her mouth and slipped one between her lips. "Hot. Very, very hot. I love it when a guy takes control like that, feeling myself being used for his pleasure. Good one, Ansel."

She lifted her feet from my crotch, and immediately my dick sprang up, tenting the soft fabric of my pajama pants.

"You should take that out," Ashley said quietly, still not looking in my direction. "It's okay if you want to touch yourself. I'd like it if you did that."

I unbuttoned my pajama bottoms and freed my erection. Precum beaded at the head of my cock, rolling down the shaft. Ashley still had her eyes on the TV.

"You..." she said, her own hand trailing down her stomach and beneath the hem of her pajama shorts. "You... like to fuck outside of the bedroom."

"Um, yeah..." I muttered, stroking my cock slowly.

"That's not how you're supposed to answer. Try again. You like to fuck... in the kitchen." Ashley moved her hand beneath her shorts, and with her other hand started squeezing and pinching her breasts through her shirt.

I remembered Ashley bent over the kitchen island, her pajama shorts riding up her thighs, the round bottoms of her ass cheeks exposed. I imagined myself tearing away her shorts and panties, thrusting myself deep into her warm, wet pussy.

"Hot," I said.

"You like fucking... in the bathroom," Ashley said.

I stroked my cock faster now, using the precum as lube. I couldn't keep my eyes off of Ashley as she touched herself, though her eyes were still firmly locked on the movie.

"Hot."

"You like fucking... in the living room."

"Hot," I said.

Ashley groaned, her hips grinding against the couch. Her pale face was flushed, her dark locks drifting over her eyes.

"You like fucking... on the couch," she said, her voice a little more than a whisper.

I continued to stroke myself, watching this beautiful woman beside me. I couldn't believe how sexy she was, her long toned legs, her high breasts and swan neck.

"Hot," I said. Everything in my body wanted Ashley to turn to me, to watch me, to mount me. To grind her pussy into my crotch, to take me inside her, to have her tongue in my mouth, her tits in my hands, her ass pumping, my cum deep inside her.

"Oh god," Ashley moaned. "I'm going to cum."

She bit her lips and groaned.

I kept stroking myself, my breath quick and short. "I can't hold it," I said.

"Don't," Ashley groaned. "Cum for me. Cum for me, Ansel."

I let out a deep sigh and suddenly white ropes of cum shot from my cock all over my pajama shirt and bottoms. Over and over again as I continued to stroke myself, I ejaculated, coating my hand and dick. I moaned pleasurably, my vision going dark, just the sound of myself and Ashley, the movie fading away, the world fading away, just the two of us here in the night.

I opened my eyes. Ashley was looking at me, smiling wryly. "Hot," she laughed.

"Oh my god, I made a total mess."

"Why don't you take off your clothes? I'll throw them in the wash."

I stood up carefully and took a few steps from the couch. I started to take off my pajama bottoms, lowering my underwear with them. I lifted off my shirt, wiping my hands. I let the clothes fall to my side, standing naked in front of Ashley.

Her eyes were on me, drifting from my cock- still swollen and half-erect- up to my chest and face. I waited for her to take off her clothes, to invite me in, to take my cock in her mouth or her pussy...

But suddenly I saw the light of the TV glimmering off of her wet eyes. Tears drifted down her cheeks.

"Ashley?" I asked.

"You look... you look so much like him," she sobbed.

Suddenly Ashley stood, her hands over her eyes, and ran from the living room.

I felt myself going flaccid, my naked flesh turning cold. Ashley and I had not been alone after all. My father had been here all along.

...

By the time I awoke in the morning, Ashley was already gone. This was her first day back at work since my father's funeral. On the kitchen island I found a plate of scrambled eggs gone cold and a note written in Ashley's hand:

'Kimberly Okinawa wants to hire you for yard work today, 1:00 pm.'

It gave an address in the Presidio and a phone number. It was 9:30 in the morning by the time I finished my cold eggs and a cup of coffee. I double-checked the calendar, and saw I had most of the morning free. I decided to go for a jog.

San Francisco is a wonderful city to jog in. The apartment I grew up in was just blocks from Golden Gate Park, and I knew a loop that took me past redwood trees, flower gardens, museums, and the nests of red-tailed hawks. Plus the park is full of beautiful young nannies walking strollers. They're always in pairs, strolling and trading rumors in Russian or Spanish or Tagalog. I can never stop myself from checking them out as I jog pass.

Half-way through my jog, I turned the corner by the De Young Museum, and saw a black-haired woman with an especially delicious ass barely concealed by tight leggings. She pushed a stroller, but was alone. I got an eye-full, then jogged past her. Suddenly I heard a wolf whistle and a voice shout out, "Ay, papi, nice butt!"

I turned and recognized the woman as Lupe. In her stroller was her "monster," her baby son, sleeping peacefully. Lupe's long black hair framed her round face and plump pink lips. She wore a loose white tank top over a sports bra that barely contained her large round breasts. She gave me a wicked smile and winked.

"Hey sexy, you staying in shape for me?"

I laughed. "It's good to see you and the monster, Lupe."

"Oh, I bet it is. Did you like the view back there?"

I blushed.

"Oh, I'm just teasing," Lupe continued. "How is Ashley doing?"

"Um..." I hesitated for a moment, thinking about her tears last night. "Good, overall. Still grieving, but slowly finding some happiness too."

"Oh yeah?" Lupe asked, giving me a glance out of the corner of her eye. "Is she finding happiness somewhere in particular?"

I wasn't sure what to say to that! "We've been... um... watching some old movies together," I finally said.

Lupe bit her lip suggestively, and my blush deepened.

"I hear you've been getting around to the other moms," she said.

"Yeah, I've been doing a lot of work at their places. Babysitting, cleaning, you know," I replied. "Later today I'm going to do some yard work at Kimberly Okinawa's. Do you know her?"

"Of course!" Lupe said. "You're lucky, she's a beautiful woman. So tall! I get jealous around her. And that husband of hers, what a jerk!"

Husband? I'd thought the woman in Ashley's walking group were all single! "What happened?" I asked.

"Oh, he's just your standard asshole who sleeps with his secretary. Dios mio!" Lupe shook her head, her loose hair shimmering over her bare brown shoulders. "Kimberly went to surprise him with lunch at his office one day, and found him already busy eating... if you know what I mean!"

I gasped in surprise. But at the same time, I remembered the night I'd shared with Lupe, on my own hands and knees, eating out her gorgeous, delicious pussy. Lupe must have seen the memory cross my eyes, because she shoved my shoulder.

"Get those dirty thoughts out of your head, papi! We're in public! You don't want to get a boner in those little shorts."

I did need to be careful, I felt myself getting excited.

Lupe continued, "Kimberly kicked him out almost a year ago. I hear he's been begging her to take him back, but she can be a stone-cold bitch when she wants to be."

Suddenly I thought of something Lupe could help me with. Recalling my conversation with Erin, I asked, "Lupe, are there rumors about me and my step-mom?"

"You and Ashley?" Lupe asked. She looked over her shoulder, then back at me. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know..." I hesitated. "Like, she's, um, got a crush on me or something."

"A crush?" Lupe howled with laughter. "Is that what you college boys call it these days?"

"I'm serious though, I don't want anyone to think badly of her. I'd rather move out."

Lupe put her small hand on my arm and looked me in the eye. "To be honest, the girls in the walking group have kind of figured out that she's lonely, you're handsome, and the kids are out of the house. Anyways, you're not really related, so who cares?"

I felt my blush return to my cheeks. "So... they know?"

Lupe shrugged. "Honestly it's just rumors and gossip. Ashley has been surprisingly secretive about it. That's unusual for her, especially after a few glasses of wine!"

I smiled at Lupe, thankful for her honesty. "I should get back to my run, I don't want to be late for Kimberly's."

Lupe winked at me again. "Stay fit, papi. I might just have you over for some more house cleaning."

Blushing fiercely, I jogged off, knowing Lupe would be watching my ass all the while.

...

I showed up at Kimberly Okinawa's that afternoon in ripped jeans and an old t-shirt. I'd found the t-shirt in my bedroom, a leftover from highschool, and it felt tight across my chest and shoulders.

Kimberly lived in one of the old Presidio houses, with white stucco walls and a red tile roof. The front of the house was close to the sidewalk, but behind the house I could see room for a large yard.

I knocked on the door, preparing myself for the tall, beautiful woman Lupe had described. Instead, a young woman answered. She had dark brown skin, thick hair sweeping down her neck and over her shoulders, and an amazing curvaceous body obvious beneath her babydoll t-shirt and tight jeans. She smiled openly at me, her large doe-like eyes, pixie nose, and full lips framed in a heart-shaped face.

"Hey Ansel! Long time no see!"

I must have been staring open-mouthed. I couldn't believe who was standing in front of me.

"Samantha? Sammy?"

She ran forward and gave me a tight hug, pressing her round breasts against my chest. I awkwardly wrapped my arms around her, trying to keep my hands from drifting up to her bra strap or down to her ass. I hadn't seen Samantha for years and years. She'd grown a lot. Samantha let me go, but was bouncing with excitement. Her high, firm breasts jiggled beneath her purple top.

"It's been forever!" I exclaimed. "Are you still in school?"

"I just graduated from high school. Can you believe I'm already 18? When did you last see me?"

I shook my head, trying to keep my eyes off of her body. "Maybe when you were 12? You still had braces."

"Oh, I was so awkward at that age!" Samantha giggled, her dark skin blushing. "Are you here to see Ms. Okinawa?"

"Um, yeah. She wanted me to do some yardwork."

Samantha grabbed my hand and led me inside. The house was stunningly beautiful, full of light from the large windows. Huge green leafy plants stood in expensive looking vases in each corner, and the walls were hung with abstract paintings and strange wooden masks.

As she led me to the back of the house, Samantha explained how she usually babysat while Ms. Okinawa wrote at home. Ms. Okinawa's five-year-old daughter was sleeping now, but Samantha would be sure to introduce us if she woke.

To be honest, I could not take my eyes off of Samantha's body. While I'd been in college avoiding home, she'd grown into a total vixen, her body blooming into that perfect balance of soft flesh and firm curves. Her hand in mine was warm, and I still felt the ghost of her tight embrace.

So it was with some surprise that I met an even more beautiful woman in the kitchen at the back of the house.

Kimberly Okinawa sat in a reading nook, a cushioned bench next to a huge window overlooking the green backyard. She scrolled on a tablet balanced on one knee as she leaned back propped by her arm, her other leg trailing down. She was a tall, slender woman, with jet-black hair pulled back into a messy bun. She wore a beige blouse tucked into skinny white jeans that showed off her long, slim legs. In profile, I saw her absolutely flat belly, the small rise of her breasts, a slender neck and a jawline that could cut glass. As she stood up to greet me, I realized she was an inch or two taller than I was. Her pert, pink lips smiled, but her dark eyes with long lashes assessed me coldly.

I realized I had dropped Samantha's hand, and for a few moments had totally forgotten about her. I stuttered my greeting. "Um, hi Ms. Okinawa, I'm Ansel, I'm, um, here because Ashley, um, I mean, my step-mom told me that you needed help, uh, in your yard?"

Ms. Okinawa raised a perfectly arched dark eyebrow. Her eyes drifted over my chest and shoulders.

"Hm, yes, I guess you'll do."

She walked me towards the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. Pointing with long, slender fingers, she gave me precise instructions on the work needed. I was to plant some new trees, uproot a few shrubs, and pull weeds along the edge of the walkway. Ms. Okinawa gave me directions, and only directions, asking nothing about myself, and making no effort towards small talk. Once I repeated the directions back to her correctly, she guided me out the door and closed it behind me.

I took a breath of fresh air. Seeing Samantha for the first time in years had been enough of a surprise. She had grown up just a few doors down from my own apartment. Samantha and her mom had always been heading bake sales and door-to-door fundraisers for their church, and when I was a senior in high school I'd see her around with her freshman friends. She was so innocent, that I'd taken it upon myself to give her guidance and advice. In her braces and thrift-store clothes, she'd been such an awkward kid. But now she'd grown up into a sensation.

On the other hand, Ms. Okinawa could have been a model. She could have been a computer-generated model, for how flawless she was. Standing near her was like drinking cold wine. It was like meeting royalty. As she'd talked with me, she'd stood perfectly straight, and each gesture seemed almost rehearsed, not a movement wasted. I suddenly felt a twinge of pity for her husband. Ms. Okinawa was already intimidating enough, I could not imagine how frightening she would be full of the fury of a woman scorned.

I shook my head and got to work.

A few hours later, I was covered in soil and sweat, but the yard looked great. I glanced back towards the house and saw Samantha and Ms. Okinawa standing at the sliding glass door, talking. Sammy waved eagerly, and I smiled back. Ms. Okinawa said something towards Samantha, and she vanished for a moment, but then returned and exited the house. Walking towards me, I again had the chance to admire her body, the way her breasts jiggled with each step, the sway of her hips.

Samantha handed me a cold bottle of beer, beaded with moisture, a bit of mist rising through the open top. "Ms. Okinawa said you looked thirsty."

I took a deep gulp, then another. "Thanks, Sammy!"

"You're the only one who ever called me that, you know," she replied, looking embarrassed but pleased.

"Ah, you like it," I teased.

"Come on," Sammy said, gesturing with her chin towards the house. "Ms. Okinawa said there's another beer for you inside. She's done for the day, but her daughter's still sleeping."