[This Is The Sequel To A Story I Started Many Years Ago. Hard To Believe, But I found It On An Old Floppy Disk! It Still Doesn't Resolve This Tale, But At Least Now I Remember Where I Was Going With It. For Better Or Worse, Short As It Might Be, Here It Is.
I Hope You Enjoy Reading It.]
"He wants me," Vicki wailed. "I could see it in his eyes. He was doing me with his eyes."
We were sitting in the backyard on my patio.
"Vicki calm down." I poured another shot and slid it across the table. She knocked it back and I poured another.
"I'm not sure that's the case at all," I said quietly. "Walking in on us like that was a shock, I agree, but I think you're making too much out of this."
She drank her next shot, asked for another, and downed that one too. If the whiskey was having an effect on her, it certainly wasn't showing yet.
"It's more than that," she went on. "I wanted my son to see me. I wanted him to want me. Don't you know it was the same with Julie? Didn't you see the way she looked at you? She forgot you were her Dad. All she saw was the man she wanted to be with, fucking another woman."
"VICKI!"
"In that moment I wanted Dustin," she insisted. "And he must have known that. All I could think about all day was having him inside me while Julie forced me to lick her clit, and you were somehow forced to watch, maybe tied to a chair or something. What would make me dream up such a thing? What kind of sick bitch am I? Oh, God, how will you even stand being around me, now that you know what a freak I am?"
"Vicki..."
The booze was clearly having an effect now. She lowered her head to rest on her on arms across the table, her whole body shaking as she wept. It was the first time I ever saw her display such raw emotion.
I knew there were far worse fantasies one could think up, but the idea Vicki wanted to screw with her own son was a little unsettling to me...
At least right then.
I also found it unsettling that she would think my Julie wanted me sexually. It was unheard of, absurd! Yet the very thought of it, put into actual words by Vicki, aroused me in a primitive way, despite my very conflicted feelings.
I had, after all, fantasized about screwing my own daughter earlier that day and hated myself for it. I wondered stupidly if fantasies were contagious.
I took a long swig off the bottle and sat back in my seat waiting for Vicki to get control of herself. After a few minutes she finally quieted down and sat back up in her seat.
"What am I going to do?"
"Nothing. You're going to do nothing. This will pass, you'll see. You're not a pervert. Nobody knows where fantasies like that come from. Human beings are complicated, Vicki. As a nurse you should know that."
She seemed to be hanging on every word I was saying, hoping I was going to calm her down I guess, so I quickly continued.
"We think things every single day we could never explain to others, or dare say outloud in public. That doesn't make us perverts, dear, it makes us human. Now go inside my kitchen and wash your face, and we'll sit out here and try to put this in its proper perspective."
"I'll just go home," she sighed. She started to stand up, but fell back in her seat. "Whew, I drank too much."
"Don't go, Vicki. Come upstairs with me."
"No, no, I can't. I have to be there when Dustin comes home." She stood up slowly, wobbling in place.
I took her by the hand and led her to my back door.
"No," she murmered. "Mustn't... Shouldn't."
She didn't pull away, though, as I led her up to my bedroom.
"The scene of the crime," she commented, as I shut the door behind us. This time I made sure to bolt the damn thing!
I was afraid she might start weeping again, but she stood looking at the bed for a few seconds, then pulled her top up over her head. I was surprised she wasn't wearing a bra.
She managed to make it to the bed without stumbling, sat on the edge, and removed her jeans. Again, no underwear. She looked up at me, one eye slightly closed, a sure sign she was intoxicated.
"Turn off the light, please."
I turned the light off and stripped as quickly as I could, feeling it was taking me too long. It was hard to see in the dark as I stumbled about. Finally I climbed into bed, hoping she hadn't passed out. She made a cooing sound as I cuddled up next to her.
"My best friend," she sighed, turning towards me. Then she began frantically kissing my face, finally focusing on my mouth.
I loved her kisses, but I broke away to concentrate on her heaving breasts. Already her nipples were rock hard. She had me by the back of the head, and was mashing my face against her body.
I thought she wanted me to move down between her legs, where I was certain I'd find a bubbling volcano, but when I tried to go there, she pulled me back. She was spreading her legs and pulling me into a fuck position.
When I entered her she seemed to gobble me up. She was straining against me, her legs wrapping around my waist. Then everything changed.
"Yes, yes," she whimpered. "Do me, Baby--Fuck me, Dustin!"
Had I heard right? Had she just called me by her son's name?
I stopped in mid-stroke, trying to see the expression on her face in the darkened room. The way she responded, though, confirmed what I thought she had said.
"I'm sorry," she cried, clinging to me fiercely. "Don't be mad. I've got him on my mind is all. It doesnt mean anything."
Actually, it meant everything. I hushed her, then began slowly stroking up inside her again, her hot flesh squeezing around my increasingly excited organ. Then I said the three words that altered the course of all our lives.
