Our Neighbor's a Porn Star! Pt. 02

Or even Omaha.

She hid a smile. "Poor baby. Just think. If you graduate from the business school at Wyoming like you're always talking about, and get a job at a bank or an investment firm, you'll get to wear a suit and tie every day."

"Ugh." Her son rolled his eyes and sank cautiously back into his chair. She smiled, watching him. The poor boy seemed completely out of his depth, as if there were some sort of clandestine eavesdropping device pointed at him, and he would be hustled out into the December night if he made a false move. He unfolded his napkin and put it on his lap. "Nice place," he said, glancing around, as the waiter set a basket of bread on the table and filled their water glasses. "They have chili dogs here?"

She snorted, barely managing to keep from spitting water all over the table. "No. But they have great steaks and seafood. Enough to fill up that hollow leg you cart around." She paused, then spoke quickly. "You look very nice tonight, darling."

"Thanks." A pink blush rose above the open-necked shirt he was wearing. He had refused to consider a tie, but the pale green shirt combined with the dark sport coat and slacks added years and maturity to him. One could almost think he was a recent college graduate, out for a date.

And one could almost believe I was young enough to be dating him, she thought, not quite bleakly. She was proud of her body and took good care of it. And Heather, to be perfectly honest, had been very...enthusiastic...in bed last night. Almost embarrassingly so.

"Fuck, Barb, quit fishing for compliments. I know women in the biz who would claw out your eyes for those tits and that hair. You look five years older than me. Seven, tops. No one would believe you're almost forty."

"I'm over forty!" The words had been almost a wail.

"How much over?"

"Forty-one," she muttered.

"See?" A wicked grin flickered across her face, and she kissed her. "Almost forty. From the other direction."

She snorted and caught a surprised look from Nate. "Sorry, sweetheart. Just thinking about something Heather said last night.

"Which reminds me," she said. "We should start thinking about what we're going to do for Christmas."

Her son rolled his eyes. "Tell me we're not going to Arizona to see Grandma and Grandpa again."

She raised her eyebrows as she buttered a roll. "I was thinking about it."

"They moved. We didn't. Let them visit us."

"Hmmm. Any other reason you want to stay? It almost sounds like you've got a new girlfriend and don't want to leave her where some other guy can scoop her up." She kept her tone light and teasing, but she studied him closely. How would he react to the hint?

"No, it's nothing like that." But her son didn't meet her eyes, his gaze fixed on the menu. He put it aside. "But...sometimes it seems like our lives are one long goodbye, you know? First Dad leaves us, then Grandma and Grandpa retire to the desert. Friends, girlfriends, teammates...they all leave, eventually." He shrugged. "I need more hellos."

She nodded slowly. She forgot, sometimes, just how bright her son was. And how sensitive. Behind the goofy mask was a brain. And the emotions of a boy who had been abandoned by his father when he was fourteen through no fault of his own.

She reached across the table. "I understand. Sometimes I wonder who is going to leave next."

He took her hand. "Not me. I'll never leave you."

Her eyes misted as she remembered the first time he held her hand. Exhausted following a nine-hour labor, the nurse had set him in her arms. Almost numb with the shock of motherhood, even after months of getting used to the idea, she had run a finger across the soft down on his head, then put her littlest finger in Nate's palm, amazed at how huge and clumsy it seemed next to his tiny fingers.

She would never forget the sense of connection when his fingers wrapped around hers with surprising force.

"Hello," she had whispered. "I'm your mommy."

"Thank you," she said now, letting her thumb rub over his strong knuckles in a gentle caress. Before things could go too far, she gently disengaged her hand, just as their waiter approached the table. He took their orders with quick efficiency and wandered off. "Where were we? Right. Well, no reason why we can't stay here for Christmas. Maybe we can invite Heather over, too. From what I can tell, she isn't very close to her family. And no one should be alone during the holidays."

"I'd like that."

Their meals came with surprising swiftness, and they began to eat. Nate had ordered a steak, surprising her not at all, while Barb had chosen a seafood pasta dish.

I don't know where he puts it, she thought, as he dispatched of the steak with practiced efficiency. But I know where I'd like him to put it. Heather's phone call on her drive home, full of detailed descriptions of what they had done, had stoked her desire to a fever pitch. She sighed, wondering when they would be able to steal time to be together again. Monday, maybe, she could take a long lunch while Nate was at school.

"More wine for the happy couple?" The waiter's voice intruded on her pleasant daydream.

Nate snorted, his eyes gleaming with evil mirth as he looked across at her. She was hard put to it to maintain a calm expression. "Thank you, yes," she said, holding out her glass.

"For you, sir?" The waiter held out the bottle suggestively.

"No, thanks," her son replied with astonishing aplomb. He tapped the glass of soda he had ordered by way of emphasis.

"Very good, sir."

"Happy couple?" Nate chortled as the waiter left.

"I'm happy. You're happy. There's two of us. Ergo, we're a happy couple." She took another bite of her pasta, hoping the low lighting hid her flaming cheeks. What she wouldn't give to actually be able to be part of a happy couple. But South Dakota was still so full of red-state bullshit that she was reluctant to go out with Heather in public. Lesbians who were out of the closet were few and far between in this windswept hinterland. And to be part of a couple with her own son...she shuddered at the thought of the unholy reckoning that would come due.

Not that we've done anything yet.

She finished her meal to find Nate looking at her. "What?"

"I just...I wanted to say..." He looked her in the eyes. "A man would be damn lucky to be with you. Couple or not."

She kept her face serene as she laid a hand on his arm. "That's very sweet." She picked up the check and stood. "Ready to go?"

*****

"Ouch," he said as he got out of the car. At his mother's insistence, he had driven them home, she insisting that her three glasses of wine were enough to make him the pilot. His back seized up in a cramp and he paused, trying to stretch out the sudden pain.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

He shrugged, then hissed as the motion pulled at his back. "I think I pulled a muscle last night at the game. And it didn't help when I picked you up earlier."

It also hadn't helped when he and Heather engaged in an enthusiastic session of lovemaking earlier in the afternoon. Which had included his first-ever sixty-nine, an experience which had left him slack-jawed (and sore-jawed) with pleasure. His lover had seemed very satisfied with the results, though, if her moans had been any indication.

"Hmmm. Why don't you take a long, hot shower, and I'll give you a backrub?"

"I don't know..."

"I do." Her voice was unusually firm. "What are you going to do during finals next week if all you can think about is how much your back hurts?"

He threw up his hands, trying to hide his grimace of discomfort. "Fine. You win."

He took a long shower, trying to loosen the knot of muscles in his back, but felt only marginally better when he emerged into his bedroom, a towel loosely draped around his hips. "Mom! Shit! Give a guy some warning, will you? I could have been naked."

She waved a careless hand. "I saw everything you have when you were two hours old. And a thousand times since then. You're not going to shock me. Now lay down," she said pointing at the bed. She uncapped a bottle, releasing a sharp scent, as he obeyed her orders, lying on top of the indifferently made blankets.

His eyes stung. "Christ, Mom, what is that stuff?"

"It's a secret," she replied. "Now hold still." He flinched as a pair of hands, covered in cold goo, came down on his shoulders. "It's going to burn a bit," she continued apologetically, rubbing it in. Indeed, the heat seemed to flow out from her hands. It was almost uncomfortably hot at first, but it seeped deep into his flesh, loosening and unknotting his strained muscles, and in a few minutes he let out a sigh of comfort.

"Better?" she asked, and he nodded slowly, his eyes closed. His entire body fell into a comfortable lassitude as her hands roamed up and down his back -- now rubbing his shoulders, now kneading lower, now massaging the bunched muscles at the base of his spine. Her fingers dug deep, seeming almost exploratory, as if they were familiarizing themselves with an unknown landscape.

"Not much fat here," she said softly, her hands sweeping up and down.

He snorted softly. "With hockey practice three nights a week? Good luck."

"Well, make sure you don't pack on the 'freshman fifteen' when you're at school next year," she said tartly. "Lord knows that's a problem on my side of the family."

His lips curled. Grandma Mueller could be best described as 'cheerfully plump.' And his grandfather could stand in for Santa Claus if he could be convinced to grow a beard. "I'll try."

She smacked his butt, the slap somewhat muffled by the towel covering his rear. "Don't try. Do. I don't want to see you coming back here for Thanksgiving with a beer gut and a double chin."

"Thanksgiving?" He turned his head to look at her. "I'll be back before that. It's not that far from Laramie to here. You're acting like it's the moon."

"I'm happy to hear that, honey." For a moment her hands stilled, then took up their task again. "I'm going to be lonely here, without you." Now the motions were almost caresses. He bit his lip, trying not to melt into a puddle of sensual pleasure.

Meanwhile, hidden from his mother's view, another part of his anatomy was displaying a perky interest in the proceedings. He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, trying to keep it hidden. Whatever his mother might say, he doubted she would be quite as calm if he displayed a massive erection. An erection which could only have one cause. He wouldn't even be able to blame it on morning wood. Despite himself, his hips twitched down, grinding his cock into the warm comforter. A certain dampness told him that he was leaking pre-cum from his slit.

Please stop. Please, don't stop.

"How's the back?" Barb asked, interrupting his lust-fogged thoughts. "Better?"

"Much better," he grunted. He kept his eyes closed, afraid of what she might see if he opened them. She might understand. His mother was remarkably open-minded about some things. But he didn't want her to laugh it off. He didn't want her to see him as a boy, unable to control his own body.

How do you want her to see you, then? As a man? And what does that mean? Are you seeing her as a woman, Nathaniel? Aren't you already having blazing hot monkey-sex with Heather? What more do you want?

I want...her.

My mother.

Oh, Jesus. You have lost your fucking mind.

*****

Heather wiped her hands clean on a hand-towel she had prudently brought into Nate's bedroom, and sat up, trying to disguise the way her pussy was tingling. It had been a long, long time since she had been in such close contact with a virile male. And her son had a presence which was intensely arousing.

And arousable. She hid a smirk as she firmly resisted the temptation to grind her throbbing, itching pussy on the oh-so-tempting curves of her son's ass. Nate might think he was clever enough to hide his hard-on from her, but she could see the signs. The way he had slowly pushed his groin into the mattress. The way his pale skin had flushed a cute pink color. The way he had tensed when her fingers had innocently found their way down to his adorable bottom, the taut muscles filling her palms in a way which made her mouth water.

It would be so easy. So easy to roll him over, expose his beautiful cock, shove down her panties, and take him right now. She could do it. He wouldn't stop her. She knew what young men were like. She had gone to bed with enough of them, before she settled on Nate's father.

No. She took a deep breath, fighting for control. In some deep part of her mind, she was a little appalled by the depth of her arousal. It was as if Heather had tapped into some deep, primal part of her, and unleashed a sexual monster. One that did not think twice about taking anything she desired. It took all of her control to stop herself from doing things which would have shocked her a few short days ago.

She bent down, kissing him in the spot between his shoulder blades. She resisted the temptation to lick the white skin. "Get up. We're done."

Nate craned his head back, but his body stayed glued to the bed. In a distant part of her mind, she toyed with the idea of staying in the room and seeing how long she could extend the game. But that would be cruel. And stupid. If you're going to try to seduce him, why would you take any risk? She waved her hands at him and smiled. "I'm going to wash this crap off and go to bed." She hesitated a moment. "I had a very nice night, Nate. Thank you."

She slipped out of the door, then popped back in, making him flop back down on the bed. "And congratulations. Again."

"Thanks, Mom." Nate waited until she had walked down the hall to her own room before he got up.

He never suspected that Barbara had stopped a few steps down the hall and was watching him, hidden in the shadows, her eyes wide and hungry.

*****

The next two weeks were wonderful for Heather.

It was a rare day when neither of her two lovers could find time to walk over to her house. And the two of them bloomed under her expert tutelage. Barb was a joy. If Heather had been of a poetical cast of mind, she would have said she bloomed. But that wasn't right. Rather, she exploded, like a firework, her dark-haired beauty filling up her senses whenever they could steal an hour or two together. The older woman had kept herself tight and controlled for so long, but now her passion was unleashed, and she was ready, no she was eager to explore every path in her new-found sensuality.

Not that every path was one that she enjoyed. Her eyes had grown wide one wintry afternoon, shortly after they became lovers, when Heather brought out the strap-on. She had swallowed as Heather buckled the straps around her hips and lay down, her legs spread obligingly. But it had only taken a few moments before Heather had gotten up, the rubber phallus exiting her lover's canal.

"If you don't like it," she had said. "Just say so."

Barb nodded. "I thought I might." Her lips curled in distaste as she looked at the apparatus, hanging from Heather's waist. "But I don't want a fake cock. I want a real one." She relaxed as Heather tossed it aside and crawled back into bed with her, their limbs entwining eagerly.

And Nate! He was all she could ask for a lover and more. Gentle and considerate, with a libido and stamina which reminded her, almost uncomfortably, of some of the male actors she had worked with in her adult-movie past. Indeed, she had mused to herself that Nate could have a future in the industry. With his farm-boy good looks, his lean, athletic body, and his eager cock, ready to go at the drop of a hat, he would be a no-brainer for someone like Jake.

Instead, he's mine, she thought happily and twined her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Their mouths danced together hungrily as his cock plunged deep into her soaking cleft. This was the second time they had made love today, Nate coming over almost as soon as his mother had left for work, and she was working on her third orgasm of the morning. Or was it her fourth? Her thoughts were hazy, caught up in sensual rapture.

"Heather, I'm..." His motions became quicker, almost frenzied, his hips slapping down on her. She raised hers to meet them, their groins fusing together in liquid heat at every stroke. "Coming!" he gasped, their gazes locking. She felt the shudder and spurt as he spent himself inside her, his cum blasting the walls of her channel.

When he was done, he lay on top of her, lightly braced on his elbows so as not to crush her. She held him close, taking delight in the feel of his strong young body on hers, touching her from head to toe.

"Mmm," she murmured softly, kissing his lips fondly. "That was good. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied. He had changed so much in just a few weeks. It was almost impossible to remember the stammering boy who had blurted out her stage name in front of her when they first met.

"Looking forward to Christmas Eve?" she asked. She wrapped her legs around him, using her heels to pull him in deeper, even as he softened slightly inside her.

He made a happy rumble, deep in his chest, and she smiled fondly. He sounded like a big, happy cat. "It should be nice," he said. "I'm glad that Mom invited you over."

"So what is Christmas like in the Shroyer household?" she asked, although she had received the details from Barb earlier.

He kissed her and one of his hands strayed to her breast. She arched up into him, filling his palm with her mound. "Well, when my dad was still living with us, we had a tradition. My grandparents still lived up here then, so they would come over. We usually watched movies and had a kind of buffet meal. Sandwiches, cookies, that sort of thing. You know, finger foods.

"Then, at midnight, we were allowed to open one present." He grinned and held up a finger. "And only one. It used to drive me bananas when I was a kid. I'd be shaking the presents, trying to figure out what was inside, for days before Christmas, so I could open the right one."

He rolled off her, but stayed close. One strong hand cupped her mons, and she raised her hips slightly, pressing it into his loving palm. His fingers, much more skilled than they had been just a few weeks ago, traced her lips lovingly. "Then we'd go to bed. And in the morning we'd get up and open the rest of them. That was the rule. One present Christmas Eve, the rest Christmas morning.

"Then we'd go to church." He made a rude noise. "I'm glad we stopped that when Dad left. Leaves more fun for playing with your loot."

"Hmmm," she pulled him close, though her breath was beginning to come a bit short as his fingers worked their magic on her throbbing clit. "Do you think I should bring something? I'd hate to be a third wheel. And it'd be weird, watching you guys open stuff while I sat in a corner."

He nodded, his face pensive. "Yeah, that'd be awkward. Maybe something small, though. You don't need to buy a big gift. You and me, that's the best gift of all." His brows creased in a frown. "Besides, Mom doesn't know about us yet. It'd be strange if you brought something expensive."

She ran her fingers through his hair. "Maybe we should tell her. I mean, you're not ashamed of me, are you?"

"No! Of course not." His fingers stilled. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Heather. But...Mom's been a bit weird lately. Ever since I got my acceptance at UW. Kind of...clingy. She's always hugging me and stuff. As if she's afraid I'm going to disappear."

"I would think a young man like you wouldn't mind being hugged by a gorgeous woman like your mother," she teased.

He shrugged irritably. His eyes were a little spooked, Heather thought. "Not like that. It's just...making me feel guilty, you know? I mean, she's known for years that I planned on going away for school. There's more to life than Rapid City. And it's not like I'm going to get a quality education at Black Hills State or Western Dakota College. But I'm coming back." A fierce note entered his voice. Heather wondered if he was even aware of it. "I'll always come back. Not like him. I'll never leave her alone."