I'm Lena. I'm 45 years old, and I'm here in Northern California visiting my Mom, Kristy, and her husband, Devin. Devin's a little younger than Mom ... mid- to late-50s. I live in Montana ... or, rather, I lived in Montana. I'm not sure where we'll live now.
My husband, Cory, and my two beginning-college boys are still in Montana. I'm in California because my oldest, Mia, and her husband, ex-husband, are newly divorced. And Mia doesn't want to live in Montana if she isn't married to some guy in Montana.
So, we're in California, checking out colleges for Mia to finish her Bachelor's degree. My Mom and Devin's place made better sense than staying with my Dad ... who lives in an isolated spot on the coast, and has no guest rooms.
Mia's 22, and she's known Devin most of her life. Mom and Dad split up when she was a little girl. We all love Devin. He's fun and friendly, and he's made Mom so happy. Happier than Mom was with Dad, for sure.
We're comfortable at Mom's, where there's lots of space, but we have to walk down the hall from the guest rooms to the bathroom, past the door to Devin's home office. And Mia has become an exhibitionist since her divorce. She has a need for approval.
"Mia, you shouldn't walk around the house like that," I said. She had on a light robe, but it wasn't fastened, so it hid little.
"Why not?" said Mia. "I'm comfortable like this, and we're all family."
"What if Devin saw you like that?" I asked. "Wouldn't that embarrass you?"
"I guess not," said Mia. "He has seen me like this."
"What? When? Just now?" I demanded.
"Yes, plus two or three other times," said Mia.
"Is it accidental, or does he stare?" I asked.
"It was accidental, but he stared when I stopped to talk with him," said Mia.
"You stopped to talk with him?" I asked. "Did you close your robe, at least?"
"No," said Mia. "I took it off. I guess that's why he was staring."
"You took it off! Why? What did you talk about?" I asked, a little crazed.
"I asked him if I was pretty," said Mia. "I turned around to give him a good look at all of me, and asked him if I was pretty."
"Oh, my God, Mia!" I cried. "Are you so insecure since the divorce?"
"He said I was pretty, attractive," smiled Mia. "Voluptuous and sexy, he said."
Mia is shapely, not like me. More like my Mom, but fuller-figured than her, and with curves in all the right places.
"You mustn't flirt with Devin!" I insisted. "It's not right, not fair."
"I wasn't flirting," said Mia. "Besides, he's not interested in me, although he liked looking."
"He's interested in you!" I said. "He's a man, and you're gorgeous, you were naked in front of him, and you're staying in his house! You're available!"
"I asked him if he liked what he saw," said Mia. "He said he did ... but said it made him think of you."
"That's ridiculous," I replied. "You're young and sexy. I'm old, short and fat."
"He likes you, Mom," said Mia. "He told me so. And you're staying in his house - available - too." She left to get dressed.
I had to talk to Devin, now. He was sitting in his office, at his computer, typing away.
"Hey, Devin," I said. "Do you have a minute?"
"Sure, Lena," said Devin, looking up from his computer monitor. "What's up?"
"Well, I want to apologize to you for Mia," I said. "The way she's behaving since the divorce, the way she dresses, or doesn't, around the house. I don't want you offended, or getting the wrong idea."
"I'm not offended," said Devin. "A little surprised, and a little turned on, to have a naked young woman confronting me. But I'm not interested in doing anything with Mia."
"You don't find Mia sexy?" I asked. "If you say 'no' I won't believe you."
"She's an attractive young woman," Devin said. "But not my type."
"Mia said looking at her made you think of me!" I laughed.
Devin blushed. "She makes me think of you. You're her mother."
"But I don't look that way, sexy, like Mia," I said. "I'm short and round and getting old. Nobody would ever give me a second look."
"I would," said Devin.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked.
"Don't get mad, Lena," said Devin. "I'm trying to be clear, and stop your worrying about Mia. I'm in love with your mother, but even she's aware that I enjoy imagining things about ... let's say, other mature women."
"Imagining things, like fantasies," I said. "About women like me?"
"Don't worry, Lena," said Devin. "I mean this in the most flattering way: I have fantasized about you."
"Like, sex fantasized?" I asked.
"Only mild ones," blushed Devin.
"When you're with my mother?" Unbelievable.
"More when I'm by myself," said Devin. "But your Mom laughs at me ... the way I like that old quilt of yours, the blue one, on your bed. She told me you and Cory made love on it, on the floor, before you got married. She says that's why I like it."
"I remember that quilt," I said. "Wait, you're saying you touch yourself - masturbate? - when you're fantasizing about me?"
"Geez, this is embarrassing. I can't believe we're talking about this!" said Devin.
"But you do ... it ... imagining things about ... me?" I persisted.
"Rarely, Lena," said Devin. "More since you came to stay, I'll admit that. I guess that's the influence Mia's flaunting herself has had on me."
"I'm not ready to talk about this," I said. "I'm sorry about Mia, but now this seems weird."
"I'm sorry, too, Lena," said Devin. "Please, just feel flattered, and let it go."
I left Devin's office and sat down in the living room. For at least 30 minutes. Mia had gone out. Mom was running errands. And I couldn't stop thinking about what Devin had said. And I decided I needed more details, somehow. Back to his office doorway.
"I need to interrupt you again," I said. Devin stood up to talk with me. "I want to understand a man ... men ... OK, you, better. What do you imagine ... about me ... when you ...?"
"Since you asked, I'll be honest," said Devin. "It's not heavy-duty. Just you watching me, that's what I imagine. You watching me and you excited that I'm thinking about you ... that way."
"You imagine me watching you, do that, to yourself?" I asked. "I'm not doing anything? I'm not naked, touching myself or something? I'm just watching?"
"You smile and watch, and that encourages me," said Devin. "You seem aroused yourself."
"You're saying you can get off, just thinking about me watching you?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yes," said Devin. "I don't do it all the time, Lena. I'm not a pervert!"
"I can't believe you," I said. "I can't believe any man would get hard and get off just imagining me watching him."
"Well ... " said Devin, sitting down. "I think our talking about it is making a bigger deal than it needs to be. We should let it go."
Sometimes I'm very decisive. And I was fixating on this idea.
"OK, prove it, show me!" I said. "I'm watching you now. Show me! I dare you!"
"You want me to masturbate for you, right now?" asked Devin, with great surprise.
"Yes," I said. "I want to watch you masturbate, with you knowing it's me, Lena, watching you do it. Otherwise, I don't believe you."
"I'm not doing this, Lena," said Devin.
"This is your big chance, Devin," I said. "To live out your fantasy ... and no risk. I don't want to hurt you or make fun of you, but I want you to prove ... what you say."
"Really? You want me to do this?" asked Devin. "And you'll not get angry or upset?"
"I want to watch you, Devin," I said. "That's all. That's your fantasy, right?"
Devin blushed. "I'm a little self-conscious, taking down my trousers in front of you, now, Lena, even if it is my fantasy."
"How about if I do this?" I asked, pulling my sweatshirt off over my head, and letting my long dark hair fall over my shoulders. I still had on my bra, not that I needed a bra. "Does this middle-aged flab excite you? Because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't excite anyone."
"Yes, it excites me, and remember, you challenged me," said Devin. "OK." He lifted his butt off the seat of his office chair and pulled off his loose trousers and underpants in one motion. Then sat back down.
Devin was uncircumcised and hard, modest in length and girth, and standing up out of his reddish pubic hair. Devin grasped himself with his right hand.
"That's just because you're thinking about Mia," I said, suddenly short of breath, nodding at his erection.
"This is because you're standing there, looking at me holding myself, and you're not wearing a shirt," said Devin. "And you don't seem to mind ... looking."
"Are you going to do it?" I asked.
"You want me to? You're not just having me on?" asked Devin.
"Start, at least," I said. "I'm making you hard? Me, middle-aged Lena, looking at you with your erection in your hand? That gets you off?"
"Yes," said Devin. "You asking me to do this, watching me do it." He rubbed with his right hand, up and down. "Wanting me to do this? You want to watch me do it?"
I nodded. And, so help me, I stood there and watched him do it. Watched Devin, my mother's nice husband, masturbate, and I watched him looking me over while he did it. I was glowing with a sense of sexiness, more than I had any right to feel, when Devin groaned, and ejaculated into his hand.
I picked up my sweatshirt and tossed it to him. "You can use this to clean up," I said.
Devin wiped his right hand clean on my sweatshirts, carefully dabbed at his softening erection, then held up the shirt. "Should I wash this?" he asked.
"I'll take it," I said. I gave the sweatshirt a sniff, and pulled it back on. Devin stared at me.
"Thank you, Lena," he said. "That's a fantasy I never expected to make real. I can't believe it."
"That was easy," I said flippantly, "I could even do it again, sometime, maybe." And I left him, looking goggle-eyed at me as I walked away.
Two mornings later, Mom at a Zumba class, me checking email on my phone, slopping around in just sweatshirt and sweatpants. Mia came back from the shower, under-dressed, as usual.
"I'm going onto campus today," Mia said, as she got dressed. "Checking out enrollment and stuff."
"Here in town?" I asked. "I didn't know you were interested in the local school."
"It would sure be easy," said Mia. "I could stay here."
"Did you let Devin see you again?" I asked suspiciously.
"He doesn't even look, now," shrugged Mia. "Just says 'good morning' and keeps right on working at his computer. I'll bet he was dreaming of you!"
"Huh," I said, focusing on my phone screen but thinking about something else. I love my Mom, and Devin, we're all cool together. But now, Mia being naked all the time, and Devin letting me watch him ... all this sexiness was confusing things.
When they first got together, and my Mom was so giddy-happy, I thought about Mom and Devin having sex. How could I not? When I visited and sat on the sofa, I imagined them doing it there. Or on that old blue quilt of mine, now on my guest room bed, holding a memory of love-making on the living room floor.
More than once, when Cory and I had sex, I'd thought about Mom and Devin. And a little when I touched myself ... all years ago. But now I felt - infatuated - that Devin, my mother's loving, lovely, kind and funny husband, could be interested in me, interested in me watching him, and liking it. Crazy, crazy, and yet so exciting.
I couldn't let go, yet, this I-fantasize-about-older-women-like-Lena thing. It made me feel - desirable - for the first time in ages. And with Devin ... no real danger, right? Only a fantasy ... OK, just once more.
After Mia left, I went down the hall to find Devin in his office.
"Hi, Devin," I said. He looked up and smiled. I smiled back. We looked at one another.