Melissa was the kind of mother any child would dream of. Loving, supportive, understanding, there when you needed her. She was also the kind of woman that drove men wild.
At the age when gray hairs could flare up at any minute, she was still the epitome of a blonde bombshell. A few inches shy of 6'0, dirty blonde hair flowed down and caressed her shoulders. Her eyes were a crystal blue hue. Search the word 'voluptuous', and you'd be greeted by a picture of her. She had wide, thick hips you wanted to hold onto and tits that teased in any outfit she wore. Her skin was dark enough to not be considered pale, like she spent every other week on the beach. She was in her mid-forties, but she was gorgeous, and she knew it.
Her ex-husband knew it too. Ryan had been her perfect match. He was the tall, dark, and handsome type. Strong and oozing masculinity, Ryan had a square face and black curly hair. He could have taken a career as a Superman stunt double. He was smart too, but not smart enough to realize two things. The first was that Melissa was a perfect catch he'd only get once in this lifetime. The other was that as gorgeous as she was, she could be mean if she needed to. In a moment of unreasonable thinking, he had an affair fourteen years into their marriage.
When Melissa started having suspicions, she tailed him one night. He lumbered to a rundown neighborhood 20 minutes away. Letting herself inside, she made it a night that would plague Ryan's nightmares for the rest of his life. His Colombian playmate, Selena, was unaware he was married. She didn't like being played, and decided to join in on Melissa's revenge.
The appeal was obvious. Selena was in her early thirties and a few inches shorter than Melissa. Her straight black hair fell down to breasts the size of plump oranges. A slim waist gave way to thick hips and thighs. She was wearing heavy black mascara and sharp, red lipstick. She was sexy, with an air of danger and Ryan was facing the dangerous side of both her and Melissa.
"You raving fucking bitches," he whimpered, tears streaming down his cheeks. He was fuming rather than breathing.
"Oh, not so macho now?" Selena teased him, as she berated him.
"If we're raving bitches," politeness oozed in Melissa's tone, "that still makes you a cheating bastard." She knelt close to his ear, cold steel in her voice, "it's only fair to make sure you think before you ever use your cock again."
The divorce was final in a few months. Ryan conceded to all her demands, making the process as quick as possible. He even gave a lump sum of cash to Selena. Melissa and Selena became friends after the divorce. They hung out and spent the night together from time to time. After all, Melissa had seen first hand how well Selena could handle a strap on.
Though the house and cars were a nice addition to the settlement, the most important factor was getting custody of their son, Jeremy. Thankfully, Jeremy hadn't become the spitting image of his father. He was a good combination of the two. Unlike either of his parents he was thin, with his mother's eyes and cheeks and his father's hair and chin. Though his looks were a mixture, Jeremy was smart like both his parents. He was a straight 'A' student with natural musical ability. A bright future was ahead of him.
Melissa felt he had a less likely chance of becoming like his father if he lived with her. For the past four years, Jeremy was her world and she would do anything for him. With his senior year coming to a close, it wouldn't be long until he was making his own way out in the world. Her hope was that his small group of friends would stay intact. All, except Shawn.
Shawn was a new member to the friend group, and something was off. Jeremey's friend group was diverse, but they were similar. Henry was Caribbean, a mix of a few different islands. Ram was Indian. Kento was Japanese and Bobby was from Montana. Where they varied in physical attributes, they were equals in interests. They were all in the band, sometimes practicing at her house after school. None of them had grades below an A, and they were all polite. Their manners could make an elderly, British gentleman look like an unruly cowboy.
Then there was Shawn. He was the high school's star athlete. He was almost a stereotypical high school jock. Almost. There was something unnerving about him. From what she heard, he had been held back once. Where everyone in their senior year was 18, he was 19. His grades weren't bad, they could be better.
Looking at Shawn, beyond the 6'3 frame, medium brown skin, and understated good looks, she could tell. There was something behind the eyes, always calculating, thinking, planning. What? It was unknown and oblivious to everyone, but her.
"Interesting, that he hangs out with you all," she let the comment hang, gauging Jeremy's response.
He eyed her with his own suspicion, "We've all got at least one or two classes with him." He spooned around his bowl of cereal, "It's not really interesting."
"I mean," she searched for the words. "You know, big star athlete hanging out with..." she caught herself, avoiding an insult, "guys from the band."
"Mom, we're not in the 1900's anymore," he sneered, knowing the 1900's comment bugged her. "It's ok for athletes to hang out with band nerds nowadays."
She smiled, "I didn't say band nerds."
"Yeah, but you thought about it."
As much as Jeremy reassured her there was nothing strange going on, it didn't quell her intuition. Shawn had to have ulterior motives. Whenever he was at her house, visits seemed like a plague on her nerves, it felt like he wasn't there to hang out or study.
It wasn't long until her suspicions were confirmed.
Jeremy and his friends were going out of town for an overnight band thing. She could never keep up with the names of these kinds of events. Knowing where he was and that he was safe was all that mattered. Her evening plans were set. She had showered and thrown on the cozy, form fitting pajamas that she only wore when Jeremy was away.
The red, gray, and black plaid pants hugged her hips and thighs, showing off her shape without being too tight. The matching gray, long sleeve shirt accentuated her bust. A row of five buttons gave easy access to her breasts. She could be alone, but comfortable and sexy.
The plan was simple. She'd order dinner and have a glass of wine. Then, watch a movie with a sexy, male lead. Afterwards, she'd turn the lights off, put on a little music, and do a little self-exploration.
She picked up her cellphone. It was time to decide on where to order out. A few places came to mind, but they were gone in an instant. A small indistinguishable noise trailed from downstairs. It was the kind that would worry a timid person, but not Melissa. She was no damsel in distress. She was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Gliding to the bed, she debated on taking the handgun or the taser. The taser seemed most appropriate for a possible home invasion. She eased it out of the nightstand and strided across the bedroom on her tiptoes.
The door gave a creaking sound, like a twig snapping under a light footstep. She was out the door and down the hall. Another sound trailed up the stairs, and she recognized it immediately. It was the sound of weight hitting the sofa. Jeremy had plopped down on it so many times it was unmistakable, but this weight sounded heavier. She made it to the end of the hallway and peaked around. She wished it was a burglar.
Shawn was reclined on the couch staring back like a rattlesnake, an amused smile on his face. He was wearing a purple school sweatsuit that looked a size too small. His toned physique popped through it without having to flex. Melissa jammed the taser into her pocket.
"Shawn?" She stomped down the stairs, "What the hell are you doing in my house?"
"Well, with Jeremy away and it being Friday night, I thought you could use a little company." His tone was buttery, too smooth to just be a 'little company'.
