Mia

Mia had come to live with us right after high school graduation. She had been dating our son Michael for years. In the last few months of their senior year she had really become part of our family. He mother had lived a hard life. Mia had three brothers and a two-year-old sister and I think she had used out house to hide from having to serve as mother to the rest of the brood. Graduation night had been a big celebration for everyone and we had a whole horde of kids and their parents to our house after the ceremony. When things had died down, Michael had driven Mia home. We didn't expect them for a while, Big Michael had joked they would probably be parked up at the bluff for a couple of hours. When the front door slammed we were shocked.

Mia's mother had not been at the graduation. Mia had told us she was working but that wasn't the truth. In truth she had been moving. Mia told us through tears she thought something might be going on. There was another new man and he had convinced Mia's mom to sneak away in the night. I was heartbroken for the girl. The next morning Mia, the Michael's and I went and cleared out Mia's stuff from the otherwise empty apartment and moved her into our guestroom.

For the first couple of months we had kept the kids apart as good parents should but when we all went to Mexico big and little Michael went fishing and had apparently discussed it coming to the conclusion that the kids were both 18, they were in love, and they were doing it anyway. That night our youngest switched bedrooms in the condo and Mia and Michael shared a bed.

I will admit to you I felt dirty. They did their best to keep quiet but as Big Michael snored gently beside me having had one too many margaritas I listened through the thin walls to the gentle squeak of their bed in the next room. I found myself thinking of her chestnut skin and long lean legs. I didn't like that it excited me but I kept the TV on mute. When I heard her gentle sighs it was too much, I can't remember how long it had been since I touched myself that way, probably before I was married, but in the dark bedroom listening to the young woman's soft moans I touched myself, my fingers quickly bringing me to an orgasm unlike any I had experienced in a long time. The other room went quiet and I lay there disgusted by myself for a short time before dozing off thinking things I shouldn't have been thinking.

The rest of the summer passed quickly. College plans had changed. Mia scurried desperately to get her financial aide package collected but with no one to sign off, her mother having completely disappeared going so far as disconnecting her cellular phone, Michael and I ended up placing her tuition on our credit card. Little Michael went off to State, the plans and deposits had already been made. He would be gone in the dorm for a semester but we knew he would be back after Christmas break. Marriage was being suggested. Big Michael was against it but knew in the end it would be out of our hands. The kids had both taken jobs in the evenings serving fast food and spent their mornings lying in the pool. Now that we allowed them their privacy at night and they no longer needed to steal their time to be intimate they allowed me to lay in the sun with them.

I tried not to look but I couldn't help myself. She was so incredibly perfect. All Mia knew of her father was that he had passed on to her dark skin and wavy black hair. Her eyes, pale blue, had come from her mother. She was a strikingly beautiful girl and in the tiny bikini there was little of her body that was covered. Big Michael hid from her. On weekends he would come up with 100 things to do that kept him from the backyard and her sunbathing. I didn't hide. If anything I spent more time than usual in my lounge chair. I was too embarrassed by my growing obsession to even admit to myself that I was stalking the young woman.

Worst of all, I was still touching myself. It was getting out of control. I would slip away after our time by the pool and I would lock the door, tug free of my bikini and close my eyes. I would lie on the bed imagining her body against mine. I was forced to bite down on my pillow; the orgasms were so intense I was scared of the noises I might make. I had tried to take my frustrations out on my husband, attacking him when we had gone to bed, but laying beneath him, even filling my head with thoughts of her nubile body, did not give me the release I needed.

I had never wanted a woman before. It scared me, it confused me, and it thrilled me in a way that was becoming a problem.

Summer was coming to an end. I don't know why but I felt like everything would come to an end with it. I plotted and schemed struggling to make something happen. My deceit terrified me. I bought baseball tickets for the boys and sent them off leaving the two of us alone in the house. I was sure she would take the night to herself, escaping to see friends. When I found that we were alone, putting together a salad just for the two of us my heart raced and I watched her. We ate and I slipped into my bedroom. I found the negligee I wanted buried deep in a drawer, a nearly forgotten present from my husband years ago. It was a long gown. There were satin panels interspersed with sheer lace. It was entirely inappropriate. I pulled it over my head and admired myself in the mirror. The lace was strategically placed to reveal my breasts and the tuft of dark hair below my belly. I took a seat on the large couch beside her and used the TV remote to put on an old French movie about a woman seduced by her young female house guest.

I struggled not to look at the woman beside me but stole glances as often as I could. Her shorts were too short, her tank was too tight, and my gown was too revealing. I thought she would sneak away but she didn't. She sat beside me watching the film only occasionally checking her phone to show me a picture of the boys with their hot dogs.

I managed not to touch myself as the two women embraced on the screen. I forced myself not to look at her to see her reaction to the movie. The movie drew to an end with a startling twist, the young girl attempting to murder her older lover. It was not a particularly good movie but it had quickly become a favorite to me. I waited as the credits rolled for her reaction. She didn't say anything and it was killing me.

"So that wasn't what I expected." I said, blatantly soliciting some kind of a response.

"Why did she try to kill the old woman?" the girl asked, breaking my heart, was the woman really that old. Was I an old woman?

"I don't have any idea." I replied sadly.

"I mean, maybe if she went to all that work to seduce her, and she said no, well, maybe then I could see her wanting to kill her but she didn't, they went at it, didn't they? They didn't show the good stuff, but I don't think it ended just with kissing, do you?" It took me a second to understand her critique but I think I figured it out.

"Maybe she didn't want to have sex with her. Maybe it upset her. I don't know. I've never known a lesbian." The word seemed so foreign to me and I actually wondered if I had ever said it before. I was sure I had, but it just sounded awkward.

"I don't think they were lesbians. I mean, you don't have to me lesbian to be with a girl anymore. I guess maybe it's an old movie." She stood up. She stretched. It hurt me to see her body extended like that just inches away from me. Her thigh was so close to me, it was the color of milk chocolate. I wondered if I extended my fingers, if I touched her, how would she react. She walked from the room, her movements were so gentle. She was gone for a minute and I couldn't resist it. I cursed the long gown; even with the long slit up my thigh I couldn't get my fingers to where I so desperately wanted. I settled by touching my breast, I felt my nipple, firm beneath the thin lace. I pinched it delicately, the sensation was electric and I felt it like lightning between my thighs. I needed to escape to my bedroom before the boys got back. I was just making to stand when the woman came around the corner.

Her tank top was gone; her smooth dark shoulders appeared just above a bath towel she had wrapped around her. I was sitting forward awkwardly, caught between sitting and standing and she approached me, standing far too closely.

"Linda," she said. She never called me Linda. She called me Mrs. Morrison, or sometimes ma'am, but never just Linda. "You and Mr. Morrison saved me. I can never repay you for everything." She opened the towel exposing the perfection of her young body. "Do you want..." she whispered. My heart raced in my chest. I just looked up at her. "I mean, if you want me to..." Her lips were so beautiful, her face, an expression I couldn't identify, her eyes, so soft. "Do you want to touch me?"

"Mia." I whispered, unable to say anything more.

"You can if you want." She said.

I was crying. I felt the tear on my cheek and I wrapped my arms around her lean body. I didn't touch anything but the small of her back. I collapsed my face against her smooth soft belly. She coddled my head against her. The towel puddled around her feet. I don't know how long she held me but eventually I let her go. I collapsed back into the couch. She picked up her towel silently and slipped back into her bedroom. I escaped to my bed and lay as a corpse waiting for the boys to return.

When Michael came to bed and found me lying there in the gown he supposed it was a gesture for him. He immediately joined me in bed and the lovemaking was furious as I sought to put the girl out of my mind. He fell to sleep beside me and I cried silently, thankful I couldn't hear anything from across the house where I was sure my son was taking up where I had fallen down so seriously.

Summer drew to an end with crazy preparations. I sent my son away. I didn't feel a loss as it had already been discussed he would be coming home soon and would finish college across town. We saw very little of Mia aside from weekends when young Michael would come home. She worked and went to school and thankfully had never mentioned my breakdown in her arms. Once or twice I had caught her looking at me. Her looks seemed sad, as if she pitied me. It upset me, I didn't deserve pity. With time my deviance seemed to fade. The holidays were coming.

Thanksgiving was a marvelous feast of turkey with family crawling out from everywhere to join us. Mia was a part of the family and the conversation frequently turned to the young lovers and their future plans. Michael had laid down the law; they couldn't marry until they had both graduated. We were, for the most part, a normal family. I was a normal mother. My demons were mostly at bay. With Mia no longer laying her long luxurious body in a chaise lounge beside me each morning I found I didn't obsess about her nearly as much as I had all summer.

It still happened though, from time to time, usually in the bath or the shower, I would let my mind fill with the image of her chestnut skin and that night when she offered herself to me.

It was the first weekend of December. Big Michael and our youngest had taken off the minute he had gotten home from work. It was the big game, the U was playing at State and if State won it would be a big deal. Little Michael was excited to host his father and brother for the weekend. Mia was supposed to go as well but she was behind at school and had been given good hours over the weekend and wanted the money. I was alone and spend the day and the evening beginning the ordeal that was decorating for Christmas in our house. I drank wine and hung garland and wished I had made the boys set up our tree before they left. I was a little sad to do it alone and had opened a bottle of wine. Near midnight the quiet house and the merlot combined and I found myself needing to lie down. I was a little drunk and collapsed into bed.

I didn't hear the door when she came home, it was the dog, her collar jingling as she pranced out to see who had come home that woke me up. I heard Mia moving about the house and was comforted to not be alone. I had to pee and slipped into the bathroom. I was too lazy to find pajamas. I stripped out of my jeans and sweater and slipped under the comforter, I could still feel the wine and my body felt heavy. I thought of the girl moving about the house and was tempted to wander out. I would play up my drunkenness and walk out only in my panties. I was preparing myself to go, just to see what would happen, when I remembered her comment. She had called the woman old. She would think me old, my breasts long past their prime, my belly plump, my thighs fat. She would be disgusted probably by the look of me with no clothes on. She would laugh. She was a good girl, she wouldn't laugh in my face, but she would still laugh, probably to herself after running away from me. I was close to tears and rolled over, cowering beneath the covers.

I heard the bedroom door close with a gentle click. I supposed she was going to watch TV or something and didn't want to wake me. At least that was what I supposed until I sensed her. It had to be her. I sensed someone there in the dark behind me. I don't know how that works. Maybe I heard her breathing or something but I knew she was there. Then I felt the weight on the other side of the bed. I held my breath. I felt the sheets and comforter tugged softly and felt cool air slip beneath them. I held my breath.

Her hand was cold on my side. My body tensed with the touch. I felt her move closer to me. Her hand moved from my side to my stomach and I felt the pull. I moved a little in the bed but she moved more, her body pulled up against me. I felt her against my back first and I struggled in the dark to sense better her touch. Could she be naked? Were those her small soft breasts against my shoulder blades?

I felt her thigh against mine. Then I felt her breath on my neck. When she was pressed against me, her breath on my neck, her feet, pressed against mine, our bodies touching as completely as possible she stopped moving. I let myself breathe again. This was all right. This was acceptable, I told myself. I wasn't a lesbian, I wasn't a pervert. This was only affection. I mustered every bit of courage I had to move my hand the few inches I needed to move it to wrap my fingers around hers. She gently entwined her fingers in mine.

We laid like that for a long while. I watched the clock on my nightstand move to the one o'clock hour. Eventually I heard the soft snoring sound Michael had teased her about. I let my eyes close but didn't sleep. Eventually I watched the clock roll past two. I didn't ever see it move to three, I drifted asleep as well.

When I woke again, I didn't know what time it was but it was still dark. In the night I had rolled over. I was on my back the girl had nestled herself against me and as I slowly gained consciousness I realized the tickle on my stomach was her breath and the gentle tease at my breast was her hair, delicately moving against my breast as it moved with each breath. I focused on the sensation and an arousal built slowly. I dared not move or I might wake her. I wasn't ready for her to leave. I wondered in frustration what time it was. I wondered how much longer I might have with her there. My stillness was eventually betrayed by a stray twitch of my thigh. The movement revealing the gentle pressure of her hand, a gentle weight only barely perceptible on my skin.

She had barely moved but it was enough to strike terror through my entire body. She was going to wake and leave. Her hand moved first, then I felt her jaw. I heard her deep breath as she yawned. As if it might help I risked moving my hand from the bed beside me to the back of her head. Gently I held her to me. She continued to move slightly as she woke but she either didn't realize she was in my embrace or she didn't mind. I struggled not to move.

I never would have imagined it would happen in the morning. She was lying there slowly waking, her legs moving gently against mine, when her hand, a delicate weight on my thigh moved gently down my leg. She stroked my knee briefly and then moved it back higher again, my heart pounding in my chest more quickly with each inch it moved closer to the growing heat between my legs. I held my breath when she drew so close I was sure she was going to touch me. When her finger, so soft and gentle brushed at the delicate patch of hair I gasped. The sound startled us both and she moved her head slowly until she was looking at me. She smiled at me, and then closed her eyes. Her fingers found their way to where I so desperately wanted them as her lips closed gently on the firm flesh of my aroused breast.

My orgasm ruptured through my body with an intensity and immediacy like none other in my life. She had done nothing so unusual or unheard of to inspire it but the need and want I had let consume me was so intense that the actual release was something I fear I will never feel again. I was embarrassed at the noises I made and the way my body thrashed as she brought me to climax and then released me to regain my composure. When I was able to look at her, she just smiled at me and then rolled back in the bed.

I remember thinking to myself how odd the comparison was as I looked over at the young nubile dark woman laying in place of my round pale hairy husband and I remember the desperation I felt as I descended on her with a carnal intent I didn't think a woman could feel.

I kissed her lips and held her body in my hands. I struggled to keep my touch gentle but it was a fruitless effort as my embrace took on a ferocity of purpose. Her lips, her breasts, the flesh of her smooth firm belly and muscular thighs were all delicacies to be taken and tasted as I struggled to imagine just how one woman made love to another. Finding myself between the perfection of her dark thighs and so immediately facing her young womanhood I placed my tongue and lips on her and within her as I struggled to imagine how I would want it done to me. I was shocked to find the scent of her more an invitation than an indelicacy and gave myself over to my need to please her. Her sighs turned to moans and when I had delivered her to the brink rather than tease her I attacked her, bringing her over the edge to orgasm with a sense of accomplishment that nearly overwhelmed my sense of need.

She let me hold her for a good long time afterward. I clung to her feeling that I would never again get to hold her in such a way and needed to now make the most of our stolen moments. As if she understood she broke my embrace not to escape but to pull me to her, our lips meeting in a long slow kiss, our bodies held together as we each stroked the others soft skin.

We made love to each other again, our fingers dancing, our bodies pressed together, kissing between gasps for breath. I wanted more of her; I wanted to give more of myself to her. Grasping to one another I delighted in the young woman's body, giving myself to her every touch. When finally she released me I cradled her in my arms feeling her warm body against mine until she drifted to sleep.

I left Mia in my bed, escaping to spend the morning with my coffee reliving each moment in my mind over and over. I was sure that was all that would come of it. She would come to her senses and we would go back to what passed as our normal lives. I was sure I was okay now. I was sure that my obsession would relent now.

It was nearly ten when she finally patted, barefoot, nude, and glowing from the bedroom. I smiled at her when she saw me and she detoured, prancing her naked perfection toward me to embrace me delicately before locking herself away in her room. When I heard the shower running, I somehow resisted my urge to join her.

It was silly but I didn't dress. I sat nervously in just my chenille robe hoping perhaps she would come to me again before she left. When she finally appeared again though, she was in her little uniform off to make cheeseburgers. I watched sadly as she left only speaking as she opened the door calling out to her wishing her a good day. The door closed and my heart sank leaving me to figure out what I was going to do with myself.