Mike, Chad, and Brandon have desired their friend's mom for as long as they could remember -- but when a mysterious, black stone is found at the bottom of her swimming pool, their desire takes on a whole new dimension.
Warning reader: This is a story about a dark stone and hidden paths of desire. The story may begin in an idyllic suburban setting, but don't be fooled: This is a story of descent, shifting forms, pleasure, betrayal, and animal instinct.
---
She was wearing sunglasses now.
She strolled out and set the glass on the tray, topped off her glass of lemonade, and made her way to the cabana.
Within the last half hour, Mrs. Moore's walk had been inexplicably washed of decades of feminine refinement. She had suddenly acquired the giddy gait of a college coed and, instead of a sultry sway, her ass bounced back and forth with each step. Mike and Chad eyed her from the pool in suspicion -- and desire.
Mrs. Moore shakily balanced herself at the edge of the cabana. She set her glass down on the table beside it and leaned over the daybed.
"Oh shit!"
Her breasts poured out of her bathing suit. She scrambled to contain them with a forearm. Mike and Chad watched her struggle on all fours, scanning the circumference of her luscious ass and a peek of the breasts beneath her. She giggled nervously at her clumsiness and sat her tight butt down on the day bed.
Brandon could feel Mrs. Moore's ass beneath him, as if his weight was now suspended on a thick, luxurious cushion. A bottle of tanning oil and a short stack of books lay next to her on the bed. She quickly grabbed a book, sat it on her lap, and lay back. Her breasts settled over her chest. They jiggled to the left as she reached a hand to her glass of lemonade. Her fingernails clicked the edge of the glass. She admired her 'painted claws' for a moment and then grabbed the glass and took another gulp of lemonade.
"Are you sure you are okay, Mrs. Moore?"
Mrs. Moore scowled slightly and sweetly whispered an 'mmm hmm.' Michael and Chad peered back, unconvinced. All eyes were on her. She crossed her legs and shifted on her butt, trying to get comfortable.
Chad stepped towards the deep end. "Are you sure you are-"
"Stop asking me if I'm sure I'm okay and go play! Now!" she growled back.
Chad quickly spun around. He gritted his teeth at Mike. Mike shrugged back at him and turned to pull himself from the pool. Water dripped from his body as he made his way to a lounge chair next to the shallow end to sunbathe. He dried off with his towel, put his sunglasses on and leaned back, arms behind his head.
Embarrassed -- and for lack of anything better to do -- Chad began swimming laps.
---
Mrs. Moore scowled at the book she had selected. Aztec Desires. An elaborate painting of a muscle-bound native warrior holding a fainting princess graced the cover. She shrugged and cracked it open and a card, apparently serving as a bookmark, fell from the pages. She held it between two long nails.
OKSANA PSYCHIC READINGS
Mrs. Moore's eyes rolled behind her sunglasses. She flung the card to the daybed.
Brandon opened the book to the page that had been marked and pretended to read while he worked out the next step of his impromptu plan. But before he could get beyond assessing his friend's current locations, his eyes stumbled upon a sentence.
"I know who you are."
The five words startled him and he looked both ways before returning to the passage.
"I know who you are."
She pulled herself up from the floor. "Then let me go -- or I'll have you executed."
Mezatl laughed deeply from his belly and kneeled beside her. The adobe hut was now permeated with his scent, a mix of incense and rare spices. He took the bun of her hair and pulled her head beside his.
"You wouldn't kill the father of your children, would you, princess?"
She gasped and whispered, "I have no children," trying with all of her will to sound offended by the way he was treating her, all the while knowing her voice betrayed the desperate longings of her heart.
He pulled her head back roughly with her hair and stared into her amber eyes.
"You will. Remove your huipil."
She looked at him with fierceness. She wanted to spit in his face. Instead she pulled the tribal blouse over her head, exposing her perky breasts.
The firelight danced across her brown skin. She eyed the growing spear of flesh beneath his loincloth, his words echoing between her ears.
'You will.'
She cupped her breasts in her hands to hide herself from him.
Brandon flung the book to the bed.
Jesus, Mrs. Moore! You read this shit?
Though he found the passage to be complete drivel, something about the book made Brandon feel funny. Mrs. Moore's breasts were buzzing with a faint energy, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to take the two orbs into his hands. He surveyed the pool from the cabana, like a queen assessing her subjects.
Chad was still swimming back and forth across the width of the pool, his wake made the water lap hard against the pool walls.
And Mike? Mike was lounging -- but his eyes were obscured by his sunglasses.
Fuck it.
Brandon settled his lithe hands on his shoulders and, pretending to stretch, slowly rolled them down the body he inhabited, exhaling steadily, feeling the curve of her breasts, the indentation of her nipples in the palms of her hands as they rolled past, her tight belly, the string of her bathing suit bottoms, her generous thighs.
She inhaled a shaky breath.
This body. It's exquisite.
She looked back to the book, wondering what happened to the Aztec Princess next.
Will Mezl-whatsit fuck her? Impregnate her?
She flexed the muscles in her pelvis.
What would that even feel like?
She eyed the lusty couple on the cover. Her heart began to beat faster. She swallowed and turned the book over.
Reading is definitely out.
Reeling from her explorations, she lay back in the daybed and pulled the cord dangling behind her. A canopy opened revealing the afternoon sun. She could feel its heat over her body. It felt wonderful.
I will sunbathe instead,
