Kathryn M. Burke
The rest of the visit with Lorna’s parents was relatively uncontroversial, although Blake did (with his girlfriend’s permission) take Marcy to bed a few more times so she’d be fully ready to enjoy sex with boys when she went back to college in the fall.
When the couple came home, it was decided that Blake should visit Rowena’s parents also. He and Rowena hadn’t reconciled when her folks had shown up for her graduation, so he’d not had a chance to spend any time with them. In fact, as Rowena had mentioned, that whole situation was pretty stressful for her–because of the simple fact that her parents had been separated for the better part of a year.
On the trip to their home, Blake tried to tease out of Rowena some account of why her parents had fallen out, but she largely clammed up–unusually so for her, since most of the time she had forceful opinions on just about everything. When she’d told Blake that she simply “didn’t know” what the problem with her parents was, Blake couldn’t believe it.
“You don’t know? How can you not know?”
“Hey!” Rowena had snapped angrily. “I hadn’t lived at home for three years when they split up. So . . . I couldn’t say.”
But Blake was convinced she knew more than she was telling.
And when he got to the parental home, things got even stranger. Jane Morris had the house to herself, since she’d mentioned with a certain sardonic glee that she’d given her husband Tyler the boot, and he was living in an apartment not all that far away. Jane was also tight-lipped about her marital problems–perhaps naturally, as Blake could understand she wouldn’t want to spill her guts out to a guy she hardly knew, even if that guy was sleeping with her daughter.
But there was more to it than that: Jane seemed inexplicably hostile to Rowena herself.
There could be no doubt of it. Mother and daughter were definitely on the outs, and most of the hostility seemed to be coming from Mom. Jane would glare at her daughter with almost undisguised loathing at every opportunity. Rowena, thankfully, didn’t seem to pay her back in kind; in fact, she did her best to try to stay out of her mother’s way, using Blake as a kind of buffer whenever she had to interact with her parent. Blake was totally confused.
He brought up the matter with Rowena during a cuddle session one night in her bedroom.
“I just don’t get it,” he said. “Your mom . . .”
“What about her?” Rowena said, getting stiff with anxiety.
“She–she doesn’t seem to like you very much.”
“I guess not,” Rowena said philosophically.
“Has it always been like that? I know lots of daughters have troubles with their moms.”
“No. We were okay when I was growing up. It started–recently.”
Blake was too emotionally smart–he was a poet, after all–not to sense that, once again, Rowena wasn’t telling him the whole story. “Why?” he asked gently but bluntly.
Rowena let out a sigh that was a little on the shaky side. “I–I don’t know.”
“I don’t see how you couldn’t know.”
“Well, I don’t, okay?” As with the topic of her parents’ breakup, Rowena made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. “Maybe,” she added unkindly, “she needs a good fuck!”
“Rowena!” Blake cried. “That’s not very nice.”
“I’m serious! Women of her age get that way sometimes. Men aren’t the only ones who need sex, you know. In fact, I’ve heard that women in their late thirties and forties have a greater sexual urge than when they were in their twenties. And I’m sure Mom hasn’t had a dick in her cunt for almost a year!”
Blake scowled ferociously. “I wish you wouldn’t talk about your mom like that. It’s disrespectful.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I mean, I just can’t imagine going that long without”–a dick in my cunt–“some action from the male organ.”
“Okay, fine, but–”
“Hey,” Rowena said, suddenly getting excited, “if you get the chance, why don’t you oblige?”
“What?”
“Sure, why not? What’s the big deal? It’s not like incest or anything. You’re not related to her. And with that monster thing you have, you’d give her orgasms galore! That would cheer her right up.”
Blake turned around and presented her back to Rowena. “I’m not having this conversation with you. You’re a rude and uncharitable girl.”
“Have it your way. But if you do find yourself in a position to, um, satisfy her, don’t hold back on my account!” Chortling lasciviously, Rowena curled up to go to sleep.
To everyone’s surprise, the situation Rowena had sarcastically outlined came to fruition the very next day.
It was late morning. Rowena had gone out by herself to look up some old friends. She figured Blake would be bored stiff by all the talk about old times that he knew nothing about, so she urged him to stay home and (with a little wink) “get to know Mom a little better.” This was a Saturday, and on weekends Jane tended to take her morning shower a little later than usual–round 11 a.m. She was just coming out of the upstairs bathroom, a towel tightly wrapped around herself, when Blake burst forth out of Rowena’s bedroom looking for his notebook: he’d suddenly gotten the inspiration to write a poem.
The two of them collided in the spacious landing.
Jane staggered backward, startled by Blake’s unexpected presence. In his attempt to save her from falling in a heap to the carpeted floor, Blake ended up grabbing her towel and pulling it off of her.
Jane managed to stay on her feet, but when she noticed she was naked in front of this young man she let out a yelp and did the only thing she could think of to cover herself up: she rushed toward Blake and threw her arms around his neck.
In the few seconds that he caught a glimpse of her nudity, Blake felt a wave of dizziness. Omigod, she was beautiful! His eyes had immediately focused on her firm, heavy breasts (now pressed tightly against his chest), her swelling hips, the dark triangle of fur over her delta, and a hint of the smooth, gracious curve of her bottom. And now that she was snuggled up close to him, he inhaled the fresh scent of the body wash she’d used, mingling with her even more intoxicating body-scent–a scent so similar to, but tantalizingly different from, that of her daughter.
As for Jane, her embarrassment had quickly given way to a flood of recollection of how nice it was to be held by a man–a feeling she hadn’t had for a whole year. For Blake had unconsciously wrapped his arms around her waist, and she felt his entire body almost fastened to hers, its strong, muscular flesh making her realize how wonderful it was to have a man in the house.
And, as Blake slowly and almost unthinkingly slid one of his hands down to cup her bottom, she also remembered the simple but intense pleasure a man can provide a woman who was “in the mood.”
She’d not been prepared to admit it to herself, but from the moment Blake had stepped into her house she’d been attracted to him–not just for his striking mix of brain and brawn, but because she couldn’t help imagining what he could have done to win over her daughter, whom she knew as an experienced appreciator of male flesh. And now, as she clung to him even tighter, she wasn’t in the least surprised that a specific area of Blake’s body was getting even firmer than usual.
He was wearing only a T-shirt and shorts on this warm day in late June, and she pried herself reluctantly out of his grasp–but only to fall to her knees and gaze at the bulge that was getting larger by the second in front of her face.
With only a moment’s delay (this is my daughter’s boyfriend, after all) she whipped down those shorts to his feet, taking his underwear with them.
She let out a gasp at what she saw, and came out with the whispered words, “Oh, my goodness!”
Those words again! Blake couldn’t help noticing that this was the third woman who’d blurted out them out when she’d seen his engorged organ.
In fact, Jane was staring at that cock with a grimace of disbelief, as if she didn’t think it possible for a cock to be that big. It was quivering with anticipation, and so she took it in her hand–actually, between the thumb and index finger of one hand–and tugged it this way and that.
And then she engulfed as much of it into her mouth as she could.
That was only a couple of inches, since she wasn’t at all good at deep throat–and was long out of practice! But the feel of a man’s member in her mouth was heavenly, and she was skilled at stimulating it with lips and tongue. And she couldn’t resist grabbing his bottom with one hand while tickling his balls with another. If he was like most men, that would drive him wild. She was rewarded with grunts of ecstasy from Blake–so much so that she wondered whether he might come too soon and flood her mouth with his discharge.
But there was no need to worry about that. He might have done that–in fact, had done that–when Jane’s daughter had first sucked him, but he’d now had plenty of experience with Rowena, Lorna, and even young Marcy.
After a few minutes he raised Jane up from the floor and pasted a tight kiss on her mouth, taking in the odor of his own cock in the process. Then Jane led him to her own bedroom, where a king-size bed would afford them all the space they needed for snuggling.
She lay down on her back, her legs spread–and Blake could see that she was already sopping wet. Much as he yearned to plunge right into her, he felt the need to be the gentleman, and so he knelt down before Jane’s pussy and began licking it avidly.
She seemed surprised at his action, but quickly got into the spirit of things. Holding his head close to her moist opening, she placed her feet on his back and stared down at the spectacle of herself being eaten out. Blake, for his part, felt a bit of awe as he gazed into the cavity in front of his eyes–the cavity where his girlfriend (or one of them) had emerged into life more than twenty years ago. There was a strange fragrance to it that was different from the three other women he’d recently sampled, and its heavy, musky aroma inspired him. Holding her bottom with both hands, he licked and sucked and nuzzled the whole area tenderly but diligently, until in a surprisingly short period of time Jane began drumming the heels of her feet on Blake’s back as the first aching moments of her orgasm came upon her.