Foreword:
This is a work of pure fantasy and goes back to when I was a teenager and had a HUGE crush on my mom's best friend.
The Divorce happened, but unfortunately, I didn't get to help her through it. All persons engaged in sexual antics in this tale are at least 18, and all characters, while having a loose basis in reality, are of my own creation.
FAIR WARNING: Unlike most of my tales, there is a LOT of sex in this one. I'm talking WALL- to- WALL BALLING- FUCKING- MAKING- LOVE- YOU- NAME- IT- SEX!! Oh, and there's a little story thrown in too.
Enjoy the ride, folks. ;)
I.D.
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***Chapter 1: News of Divorce***
"JUSTIN!" That would be my mom, yelling for me to come down to breakfast. Saturday, the day after High School gradu-fuckin'-ation, and I'm getting woken up at... I look at my clock... 7 fuckin' AM. SERIOUSLY?! And add to that the dream she'd interrupted. God, I'd been dreaming of Lee again.
Leeandra Watson was my mom's best friend. Everyone has called her Lee since forever, as far as I knew. Forever was also how long she and my mom had been best friends. Since like 1st Grade, I think. Gorgeous body, tall with big round breasts and a voluptuous bubble butt ass. Rich dark mahogany skin gave her an exotic look that I had loved for the past 6 years.
"JUSTIN DAVID BANNISTER! BREAKFAST!" Mom yelled, interrupting my internal monologue with her grating voice, and I winced at the Three Name Call.
"Let me piss and get some clothes on!" I shouted back. I pushed the sheet back and went naked into the bathroom across the hall from my room. I damn near had to stand on my head to take a piss, but once I did, my hard-on went down at last. I stumbled back to my room and threw on some boxers, board shorts, and my old Batman t-shirt. I looked in the mirror at my fairly muscular 6'1", 198 lb. physique, short dark hair, cobalt blue eyes, and smirked as I thought that this is what Bruce Wayne must have looked like going to the beach. Maybe. Meh. I needed coffee, and I needed it yesterday. I'm Justin Bannister, and we live in Westwood, near UCLA. I just graduated from High School, and now here I was with the entire summer ahead of me before starting at UCLA in the Fall.
So I headed downstairs, and saw my brother sitting at the breakfast nook.
"Hey, dickhead." He greeted me with a sneer. Shitty little bastard.
"Hey, asslick." I greeted him back. Yeah, my brother and I really don't get along. He's a year younger than me, and thinks his shit don't stink. The fucked up thing is that our parents agree that his shit don't stink. I can't count the number of times I've taken the heat for his bullshit, even when I wasn't around, nor could have even been around to have anything to do with what he'd done.
Oh, well. I had a full ride to UCLA in the fall thanks to Track & Field, and the recruiter was so impressed with my dash times in the 50 and 100, he was thinking Olympics. Yeah, right. A white boy like me in the Olympics for Sprinting? My point is that I wouldn't have to put up with my kid brother or my biased parents for much longer. All I had to do was survive the next 3 months without killing my little bro.
Mom didn't like the way we greeted each other. "Language." She said, smacking us both upside the head.
"Ow!" We said in unison. Ha! At least Golden Child had got the shit smacked out of him too! I counted that as a victory. To this day, I will never understand how I, a Track athlete with a 3.85 GPA and a full ride scholarship to UCLA could come in second fiddle to my dipshit 2.25 GPA moron brother. I told my parents every day that I loved them. I helped out every chance I got around the house. What did Patrick do? Jack and Squat, and Jack just left town.
"Justin, I have to drop Patrick off at summer school, and then go to my hair appointment. If Lee calls, tell her I will be back in a couple of hours."
"Ok, mom." I said, more sullenly than I was feeling at the mention of Lee.
Lee Watson, as I stated earlier, is my mom's best friend, which is saying something, since Mom is about as white as you can get. They had been best friends since forever, also as I said earlier, in spite of growing up in the '70s just after the Equal Rights Movement. They were both now 40, and while mom was kind of ugh, Lee was SMOKIN' HOT! For reference, I would compare her to Kelly Starr, the porn actress. Same basic body shape and skin color.
I'm the kind of guy that doesn't care about skin color or whatever. Hot is hot. Beautiful is beautiful. Gorgeous is gorgeous. Sexy is sexy. Granted, I did experience some "jungle fever" when I looked at her and imagined us entwined, our skin tones contrasting so erotically... yes, my teenage hormones were in overdrive whenever I looked at her, heard her smoky voice, or even closed my eyes and imagined her.
"Good." Mom's voice broke me out of my reverie. "Just make sure you be polite to her."
"Will do, mom." I gave a half-assed salute and a resigned smile. Like I was ever NOT polite to Lee!
"Good. We'll see you later." Mom gave me a peck on the cheek, then left with Patrick in tow.
"Love you too, Mom." I smirked as they headed out the door. I plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. Ooooh, the Dodgers were playing against the Giants! NICE! I love Baseball.
The game was into the third inning when the landline rang. I groaned involuntarily, since the landline was usually one of my shithead brother's shithead buddies. I checked the caller ID and my cock got hard as I recognized Lee's number. I picked it up. "Hi, Lee." I said with a smile.
"J..Justin?" She said, her voice shaky. She'd obviously been crying. I sat up straight.