He was coming over to stay the night again. Third time this week. I was so excited that my son finally made a friend. Brian is good for him. We move around so much, so this was uncommon. Last chance for him really, since he was a senior in high school. They were both 18, a month away from graduating, and at the prime of their lives.
I placed dinner on the table and called everyone to come and eat. My husband sat across from me, my son and his friend claiming the other corners of the table.
"Wow, this smells great, Mrs. Wells." He was always such a polite boy. He was a bit skinny, and I wondered if he ever had a family dinner like this at home. I think that's why he keeps coming over.
We discuss school, projects that they are working on. My son talks the most, while his friend seems to be lost in a daydream during most of the meal. I stare at him. He chews slowly and stares off into space. I lean my leg over to him and give him a little kick in the shin to bring him back to reality. He jumps, a bit frightened. I notice goosebumps appear on his arms.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! I just wanted to make sure you were still with us!" He looks at me with half-lidded eyes and cracks a half smile.
"It's alright. I am the one who should be sorry." I nod at him and look back at my plate. As I bring another forkful to my mouth, I feel a strange sensation run up my leg. I pause with the fork in midair and dart my eyes under the table. Brian's soft foot rubs up and down my ankle. I peer over at him and he looks down at his plate, smiling. I am not quite sure what to do. I don't want to hurt the poor boy's feelings... and it has been a long time since me and my husband fooled around. As I consider the possibilities, Brian becomes more and more attractive. I decide to entice him a little, leaning my knee into his leg, causing pressure and friction in response to his touch. He stops and he holds his breath for a moment. I don't think he was expecting that.
He starts to look up at me, and I bring my eyes away quickly, staring down at my plate again. I hear him snicker under his breath. This is a very innocent, school crush kind of game we are playing here. I like it. He likes it.
After we finish our meal, I clear the table and start doing the dishes.
"We're going to my room, alright mom?"
"Sure, guys. Let me know if you need anything." I turn and watch as they head upstairs. Brian stays a few feet behind my son, and turns to glance at me. Our eyes meet and we give each other a sultry grin.
A few hours pass. I sit on the chase in the living room watching T.V., sipping a glass of wine. I can hear loud music coming from upstairs, a bit too loud for my liking, but boys will be boys. I let it slide. Tomorrow is Saturday so I will let them have some fun.
About an hour later, my husband is already in bed. I can't sleep. After my third glass of wine my head starts to swim. I try to understand what happened at the dinner table tonight. It was very unexpected, but I couldn't deny that it was extremely fun. The house starts to become quiet, and I turn down the volume on the T.V. so everyone else can get to sleep easily. About fifteen minutes pass, and I hear a noise. A door opens and closes from upstairs. I look towards the sound and hear footsteps start to come down the stairs. Before long, there he is. Brian is on the second step, hanging onto the railing, running his eyes up and down my body splayed out on the chase. I stare back at him. I do not say a word. He starts to walk closer toward me and sits on the recliner across the room, slowly rocking back and forth, his eyes never leaving me. My vision is a bit impaired in the dim light, but I can see his bright blue eyes. They are glazed over a bit. I define this look as one of arousal. Unconsciously, my eyes wander to his loose fitting pajama pants. I can see a slight bulge between his legs.
"Like what you see, Mrs. Wells?"
I am startled by his voice, and jump a bit, almost spilling my wine. "Um..."
"Well? Do you?" His voice is very hard, very confident. I turn my body toward him, placing my wine glass on the table, and then letting my arm drape down my hip and thigh, pulling up my satin nightgown a little. The inviting view of my flesh excites him, and he lets out a long breath.
"Yes, Brian. I do."
"So do I." There is a hint of nervousness in his voice now. This must be going better than he planned. He squirms a bit in the recliner, adjusting his bulge to reach new comfort. My eyes grow dark, brooding. I pull the clip from my hair and shake my head, letting my long blond locks drape down my chest and back. Another long breath escapes his young, supple lips. He starts to stand up and walk towards me. He kneels down on the floor and leans in to kiss me. Without thinking, I slap him in the face. It was a lot harder than I intended. He gasps at my reaction, and then brings his hand up to his cheek, rubbing at the pain and warmth of the strike. His eyes light up, a new ferocity in them now.
"Again... slap me again."
"What?"
Before I can think, he leans in to kiss me again, actually grasping my face this time. Again, I smack him. He closes his eyes and revels in the pain, rubbing his check once more. His hand moves down between his legs as he adjusts himself. He is rock hard now, I can see it. Confusion rushes through my body. Brian has a dark secret. Brian likes pain.
I have never been the type to use pain along with passion. This was new... and strangely a major turn on.
"Mmm, the sting," he whispers. His blue eyes burn into mine. This was my chance. I sit up, cross my legs and twirl my hair with my index finger, studying him. I take a deep breath and consider what I want now. I can do this.
"Stand." It was a simple command. He shakes his head and leans into me again. This time I smack him harder than I did the first two times. I can see the redness swell on his cheek. The fire in his eyes burns hot. "I said stand."