Three Sons (Part 4)
Kathryn M. Burke
Over the next several weeks, James noticed that Jenny was looking a bit . . . tired. So he rounded up his brothers and gave them a stern lecture.
"Do you have sex with her every night you're with her?" he demanded of Peter.
"Well, sure," Peter said defensively. "I only have her twice a week—maybe three times, if we get together on a Sunday."
"How about you?" James asked Daniel.
"Yes," Daniel said in a small voice. "I—I just have to have her."
"Well, so do I. So that means she's getting it
six or seven nights a week—
not to mention other times when we feel like poking her. That's a lot for a woman who hasn't had regular sex for two years. We may have to ease up on her."
"I don't want to!" Peter cried. "I love her!"
"We all love her. But she's been saying we should try to find girls of our own age. We're going to have to, in the long run. I mean, we can't
marry
Mom, can we?"
"Of course not," Daniel said.
"I don't know any girls my own age," Peter said resentfully. "It's not as if they just walk into the store and say, 'Here I am.'"
Like Mrs. Stevenson—who certainly isn't a girl of my own age, and who's already married.
"You gotta go and
find
them, Peter," James insisted. "And it shouldn't be hard for you, Danny, to find some. Your campus must be swarming with nice girls."
"I guess it is," Daniel said, "but I've been so busy with classes that it's hard to focus on that. After all, Mom is right here, and we can have her anytime."
"That's just it," James said. "It shouldn't be this easy. Getting a girl—really winning her over, not just having her for a bit of fun—is hard work. And it takes time."
All the brothers agreed in principle that James was right—but they were still hesitant to follow his advice. It was going to be pretty hard to find someone as perfectly suited to them as their mother.
But then, at least as far as Daniel was concerned, a possibility suddenly opened up.
By now it was second semester of Daniel's freshman year, and he found himself in an Introduction to Western History class. There was such a large amount of ground to cover in the class that he quickly found himself overwhelmed with names, dates, and concepts that he wasn't all that familiar with. But amidst his floundering he also noticed a girl, Tara O'Brien, who seemed to know more than the rest of the class put together. And even though she seemed somewhat shy, she soon became the teacher's pet, as the professor (a crusty old guy who was getting close to retirement) kept calling on her almost to the exclusion of everyone else.
One day after class was over at 3 p.m., Daniel summoned up the nerve to talk to her.
"You're really smart!" he blurted out almost directly into her ear as she was passing by him.
Tara jumped a little, not expecting this stranger to speak to her. But then she turned toward Daniel and gave him a broad smile that immediately melted his heart.
He gazed at her for a few seconds. There was a freshness, a purity, an innocence that he found utterly endearing. She was about five foot six, with wavy shoulder-length blond hair that framed a pale but rosy-cheeked face; and the rest of her wasn't bad either, with generous curves at breast and bottom (as Daniel noticed with a series of covert glances). She wasn't exactly slender, but she seemed perfectly proportioned. And, as is natural with all healthy men, he indulged in the momentary fantasy of wondering what it might be like to take this girl to bed.
Tara had blushed at Daniel's compliment, and now she looked down at the floor. "Oh, I'm not really that smart."
"Sure you are!" Daniel said. "You already seem to know everything!"
Her blush deepened. "I wouldn't say that. It's just that—well, I picked up a lot of this stuff in high school. Not as part of a class, but for fun."
Daniel had trouble imagining someone boning up on history "for fun"—but it takes all kinds! He licked his lips, hoping he would have the courage to—
"Do you think you could help me?" he said pleadingly. "I'm really all at sea here."
She smiled benevolently at him. "Sure, I'll be glad to help."
"How about right now? Do you have another class?"
"No, I'm free now. We could go to the library—"
"Um, I was hoping we could go to my house."
There was an awkward silence. "Your—your house?" Tara stammered.
"Yeah. I only live a few blocks from campus. It's my family home. My mom and my brothers live there with me."
That seemed to reassure Tara, so she said, "Okay."
In the short walk to his house, Daniel managed to tease out a little more about this wondrous creature. She was an only child, and her family lived in a town in the far eastern corner of the state called Olean. She actually expressed envy of Daniel for having brothers: she wished she had some siblings, since being her parents' only offspring put a lot of pressure on her to succeed.
Hearing Tara chatter away in her soft, high voice, seemingly so diffident but with an undercurrent of strength and determination, was making Daniel quickly feel something he'd never felt before. He was definitely smitten.
They came to the house, and Daniel opened the door and let Tara in. The place was deserted, and only then did Daniel explain that his two brothers and his mom worked at various full-time jobs and wouldn't be home till close to 6 p.m.
Tara looked spooked, and almost felt she had been tricked. She'd expected other people to be home.
"We can study at the dining table, if you like," Daniel said, to try to get her to calm down.
That seemed like a safe enough thing to do, so she dumped her heavy winter coat on a hatrack just inside the front door and then dumped her backpack on the dining table. For the next hour or so they actually did do a lot of studying—or, rather, Tara patiently taught Daniel the basics of how to study history. It really wasn't all about memorizing names and dates; that was old-fashioned. You had to understand broad trends and patterns.
"You're so smart," Daniel said in genuine admiration. "And beautiful too."
Tara really blushed when he said that, and she made a point of ignoring it. "You're smart too, Daniel. Maybe you just don't realize it."
All of a sudden Tara noticed the bookshelf that contained his mom's collection of classical LPs.
"Wow, look at that!" she cried, jumping up to examine them.
"You like classical music?" he said.
"Sure. I'm in the college choir. I've been singing for a long time."
"You must be a soprano."
"How'd you guess?" And she gave him that heart-rending smile.
"I could just tell."
Tara picked a recording that Daniel himself had never heard—some Renaissance choral work by someone named Palestrina. When Tara carefully put the record on the turntable, the music began at once. It sounded pretty odd, but lovely in its way. As Tara sat primly on the sofa (the very one where Jenny had serviced all three boys in succession) with eyes closed, Daniel just gazed at her in unaffected admiration.
She really was lovely—but so different in her loveliness from his mother that he wondered anew at the incredible variety of female beauty. Remembering what James had told him long ago about how he had first become intimate with Mom, Daniel bent over and, without touching her in any other way, he planted a delicate kiss on her mouth.
Tara's eyes popped open. There was an expression of surprise, even of faint alarm, on her face.
"Sorry," Daniel muttered. "I couldn't help myself."
"That's okay," Tara said after a pause. But she wasn't giving him the smile that Daniel hoped to see.
For a while they sat quietly on the sofa, just listening to the music. After many minutes, Tara finally leaned over and rested her head on Daniel's shoulder, and he ventured to place an arm lightly around her back. He almost thought Tara had fallen asleep—but he could see her chest rise and fall somewhat irregularly. She definitely wasn't asleep.
So he made bold to raise her chin gently and give her another kiss.
This kiss lasted a long time—and in the midst of it Tara, almost in spite of herself, snaked her arms around Daniel's neck. For a full minute that kiss went on: it seemed like an eternity. Tara at last broke it off, now placing her head on Daniel's chest and heaving a little sigh.
But then, to his surprise, she began giving his neck some tiny kisses, almost as if she was trying to get a sense of the texture and contours of that part of his body. Eventually she reached his cheek, and then she put a hand on his face and gave him another long kiss.
This was more forceful than the soft, fluttering kiss they had exchanged earlier. And it impelled Daniel to take further action.
His arms were now holding Tara tightly around her midsection. Slowly, infinitesimally slowly, he slid one hand down her thigh and came to the hem of her knee-length wool skirt. She was so intent on kissing him that she didn't notice how his hand slipped under the skirt and worked its way back up her thigh to where her legs met. He came upon her panties, and she unconsciously parted her legs to allow him access. He could already feel a lot of wetness in the crotch, and he moved the panties aside and placed a hand on her sex.
Now, all of a sudden, she realized what was happening. There was an intense conflict about whether she should object to this radical advance in intimacy or just give way to the sensation. She did a little of both, moaning softly and also squeezing her legs together. But that only had the effect of pinning Daniel's hand to her pussy, and he was still able to stimulate her labia and clitoris in a way that caused her to pour out her juices onto his fingers. Now she broke off the kiss and buried her head in Daniel's neck, opening her legs and letting him do what he wished.
In a matter of minutes her moans turned into sharp, almost strangled cries as little shudders coursed through her frame. She gasped and sighed and panted as this unexpected orgasm radiated from her sex all over her body, and Daniel even felt a few tears squeezed out of her eyes.
Then, as if overcome with shame, she pushed Daniel's hand away and thrust herself away from him, scooting away from him and covering her face with her hands.
She was still trembling, and Daniel was afraid to touch her. At last she calmed down—but then she did something that didn't entirely surprise him.
Tara leaped up from the sofa, cried "I gotta go!" and, snatching up her backpack and coat, fled from the house.
Daniel was pensive all through dinner. It was only when he was in bed with Mom—it was his turn to be with her that night—that, after a pretty intense session of vaginal sex, he broke the news.
"Mom, I met a girl," he said.
"Did you?" Jenny said, breathing heavily and staring up at the ceiling. Her bare breasts were heaving—not entirely differently from the way Tara's had done that afternoon.
