Saturday Morning Session

"Her name's Maria. She's from Venezuela. Last year she was a visiting student at Alex's university. They dated; Alton and I met her, really liked her. She returned home, but she and Alex stayed in contact and when she said he might be able to visit over the Christmas holidays Alton and I were delighted; we invited her to stay with us, separate bedrooms mind you."

Jennifer's affect was happy. Either she was egging on her step-son or this girl genuinely delighted her, probably both.

"Well she and I got along great. We hung out, went shopping, spent time at the spa, or changed into bikinis and sat by the pool. When Alton had to suddenly go out-of-town I suggested we three rent hotel rooms downtown and really enjoy the city. It was fun, we went to the theater, ate at some nice restaurants, went dancing, did some shopping. But Alex started to get all pissy because she was enjoying spending time with me."

"When you were at the hotel, did she sleep in his room or yours?"

"Mine of course, as we said, separate bedrooms."

I imagined that Alton, dignified and old-fashioned, would object to his unmarried son sleeping with his girlfriend. Jennifer, however, would not.

It was clear she genuinely liked this girl. It was also clear that in the guise of playing hostess, she had sabotaged Alex's time with Maria. I looked at Alex. He was fuming. She could see Alex fuming. She was enjoying it.

"Alex, what is your take on all this?"

"She left out a bunch. It wasn't normal; Jennifer was always complimenting Maria, telling her how beautiful she was, and she couldn't keep her hands off Maria; she was always touching her, playing with her hair, straightening her clothes. Then she'd tell Maria how good she'd look in some outfit Jennifer owned and they'd scoot off to the bedroom to change. And she and Maria were always going shopping, buying, well..."

"They bought lingerie and other intimate clothes," I suggested.

"Not all the time, but some, yeah. Then they'd model them for each other. Maria couldn't stop talking about how nice Jennifer was, about the great stuff she had, about how beautiful she was. Jennifer was throwing money at her, I couldn't compete with that. Yeah, then we move into a hotel and my girlfriend shares a room with my step-mother! I had to sneak Maria away to have time alone with her."

"See what I mean, I'm nice to his girlfriend and its some kind of conspiracy, then he starts slinking away with her, lying to me. Tell him women are just more comfortable with each others' bodies, with complimenting each other, then men. There is nothing wrong with it, it's natural. We're not a bunch of homophobic guys, afraid to acknowledge another guy is good looking. He acts like Maria and I were lovers."

She stopped and looked at Alex. "Tell her how you barged in on us."

"It was a mistake. The four of us were going to dinner. Jennifer and Maria were dressing, they said it would take about ten minutes. I was downstairs texting some friends, it had to be at least half-an-hour, then Dad called. Jennifer had left her cell phone downstairs so I answered; he said he was running late and had to talk to Jennifer so I walked the phone upstairs talking to Dad. I heard Jennifer and Maria yakking through the door and I didn't think about it, I just walked right in. My bad, but they were standing there, in their underwear."

"Exactly what?' I asked.

He relished the next few words, thinking they'd show his stepmother was indeed beyond the pale. "Bra, panties, garters, stockings; the works, with my girlfriend."

"What happened?"

She interrupted. "He stood there and stared at us."

"And what did you do Jennifer?"

"I stared right back, it was my room, I wasn't going anywhere. I asked why he was there, he said his Dad was on the phone, I reached for the phone and turned my back to him."

Showing him that fine ass I thought.

"It was Maria who shooed him from the room."

"Now Alex, think back, focus. I want you to place yourself at the scene, recall exactly what you were thinking, feeling."

He took a second, the anger receding as the image of his stepmother and girlfriend clad in lingerie solidified in his mind. He sucked in his lower lip.

"I mean, they just stood there, no one covered up. I know I should have left, but I was kinda stunned, I mean you don't expect to walk into a bedroom and find your girlfriend and step-mom dressed like..."

"Victoria Secret's models?"

He smiled. "Yeah."

I looked to Jennifer. As Alex had re-visited the moment, so had she. She was seeing the event through his eyes, a young man walking in on an everyman's fantasy, a bedroom with two beautiful women in sexy lingerie. She also enjoyed the compliment, it never hurts to be compared to a Victoria Secret's models. But there was another layer to her reaction. As Alex had recalled his feelings, she did too and the result was the same as when we'd re-visited her masturbation: she was aroused. Her nostrils flared, she wet her lower lip. She had enjoyed dressing with Maria; she had also enjoyed being seen by her step-son. And why had she and Maria spent so much time dressing in such exceptionally sexy clothes for an unexceptional family meal?

She reached for his hand, squeezed it. "Well yeah. I guess we were all kinda shocked."

She turned his hand over, touched his palm.

* * * *

I leaned back in my chair.

It was quite a coincidence. The one time Jennifer decided to masturbate on Alex's bed was the one time he walked in, and he did so quietly, he didn't yell out he was home, he didn't announce his presence. What was far more likely was that she did it regularly, that somehow he discovered it, and would sneak in, hoping to catch her and watch.

Did she suspect he was watching?

And why had Jennifer sabotaged Alex's relationship with Maria? Why had she spent so much time in various states of undress with Maria? Why was the recollection of being caught dressed in sexy underwear turning her on? A bit of a voyeur? A bit of an exhibitionist? Not an unusual trait in a woman who, amidst a busy life and demanding schedule spent so much time working out, taking care of her skin and hair, primping herself, selecting beautiful clothes. She liked to be looked at.

And why had this entire session turned on sex?

These were not naturally angry or resentful people. They were, in fact, sympathetic and empathetic, able to understand the other's point view. They wanted to get along. No, anger was the way other feelings, stronger feelings, feelings they were trying to suppress, were presenting themselves.

I knew something else. A friend, something of a gossip, dated Alton's internist. High blood pressure had left Alton impotent and Alton was old school, very old school; I doubted he was the pussy-munching kind. Jennifer had to be frustrated and while she clearly loved Alton, she was a beautiful young woman at her sexual peak, living with a younger hunkier version of her husband. The anger that drove their fighting, I realized, was the result of their efforts to suppress more primal, more fundamental, urges.

I closed my notebook and looked at them. They were intelligent and discreet. Occasionally I encountered people for whom radical therapy was advised. I was sitting in front of two of them.

* * * *

Although it was a Saturday morning, I, like Jennifer, had dressed formally, wearing a tan/brown suit with a knee length skirt. My jacket buttoned up the front; I wore a white camisole underneath. With my shoes I'd been a little more daring, picking out three inch open toed black pumps.

The physical intimacy between Jennifer and Maria's had aroused both Jennifer and Alex. I would further sexualize the atmosphere.

"I think we could all use a breather. Jennifer, do you always wear your hair up?"

"No, usually down. I felt like getting dressy today," she smiled, "I wanted to look good for the shrink."

I smiled back, "The shrink appreciates it."

I walked over to her and made a downward motion besides her head with my hands, "Do you mind?"

Although a little unsure of the change in direction, she said, "No, not at all."

"Good."

I removed my jacket - while my breasts were not as large as Jennifer's, the fabric of my camisole still stretched over them - sat on the arm of the couch behind Jennifer, pressed my sex to it, and pulled a bobby pin from her hair. I dragged the few strands that came free through my fingers.

"Now Alex, you mentioned a couple of times that Maria talked about how beautiful Jennifer was. It seemed to bother you. I'm wondering why? What do you think? Do you think she's beautiful?"

"She's my stepmom."

It was the answer I expected. His claim of appropriateness to avoid answering the question affirmed that he thought she was beautiful and that he thought he shouldn't feel that way about her. Now I'd ask the same question in a different way and recreate the moment they'd met.

"Okay, the first time you saw her, the first time your Dad brought Jennifer home, what did you think?"

He looked down and in a voice free of prevarication, as if welcoming the opportunity to tell the truth, said, "Yeah, I thought she was mighty nice looking."

Jennifer took his hand in hers. "Thank you Alex."

I removed two more pins from her hair, several strands of hair came loose, I ran my fingers through them, my touch soft and sexy. Jennifer rolled her shoulders.

"Jennifer, when you first met Alex, what was your impression."

She turned to look at me. Alex's honesty and compliment and my hands in her hair were having their intended effect, she was relaxing. She'd make sure to mention her husband, then tell the truth.

"Well, you know Alton, even in his sixties, he's a good looking man."

She was right; her husband had aged well; a head full of silver gray hair, strong features, piercing blue eyes, and a forthright manner that gave him a gravitas that age could not diminish.

"Yes, he is," I assured her.

Having affirmed her loyalty to Alton, she felt safe to proceed, free to acknowledge something she'd carefully avoided in the past. There was true delight in her voice when she said, "Well, the resemblance between Alex and his father is striking. Yes, he's a good looking young man, it would be hard not to notice; I certainly did."

That he was. Slightly taller than his father, maybe six feet two inches, they shared the same erect stature. He had his father's sandy blonde hair, that is before Alton's turned silver, and blue eyes, intense gaze, and well defined features. The biggest difference in their looks were their builds. Alton was thin, almost gaunt, and if the painting of him in the hospital lobby was accurate, he'd always been so. Alex had his father's broad shoulders, but underneath he was muscular and well-developed. While he'd dressed appropriately for our session, his red polo shirt still showcased his powerful arms and chest and his cargo shorts revealed strong thighs and legs.

I'd removed all the pins holding Jennifer's hair up in the back, stood, moved gracefully across the room, bent over my purse, showing off my butt and legs, took out a brush.

I was sure of something I'd just suspected: the desire of these two for each other was born the moment they met, then become stronger. That they'd controlled it for so long, that it had only recently forced itself out in the guise of the anger made manifest by their fighting, was a tribute to them both.

I returned to Jennifer, planted my sex firmly on the arm of the couch, rocked forward. I had to consciously suppress my moan.

I brushed her hair and ran my fingers along her scalp; Jennifer mewled. Alex took surreptitious glances at us, trying to hide the guilty pleasure he took in them. I shifted position, pressed my damp pussy to the arm of the sofa; sparks of pleasure crackled through me.

"Now I'd like to revisit the topic we started with, but I'm going to suggest we all be a little more honest this time. Jennifer, as the adult, I'll start with you."

Alex bristled, thinking why not him, he could be as honest as any adult, that he was an adult. When next I questioned him he'd be more likely to confess any uncomfortable truths.

"This was not the first time you masturbated in Alex's room, was it?"

She turned her head towards me, looked in my eyes. She smiled, a small subtle you-caught-me smile, and said, "No, I did it fairly regularly, that is until I got caught, or learned I'd gotten caught."

I moved by hand to her neck, ran my fingers along the muscles at the top of her spine.

"So you continued doing it after the day Alex saw you, up until the time he told you he'd seen you?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell my why?"

"I'm not sure. There was something naughty, I guess a little dirty about doing it there. It made it more pleasurable." She stopped, surprised by the husky tone of her voice.

I continued combing her hair. There was more to the story than that, but I'd gotten enough; the rest would come in time. She was also embarrassed by her confession and distracted by the steady fizzle between her legs; she'd be less likely to object to my next line of questions.

"And Alex, was this your first time watching her?"

With a how-did-you-figure-that-out-look he said, "No, it was about six months ago when I first saw it."

Jennifer gasped, more for affect than in horror.

I rubbed the muscles on the side of her neck.

Alex said, "I can explain," then stopped; while he said he could explain, he was not sure what to say next. I'd already determined that Jennifer had more than a bit of the voyeur and exhibitionist in her. I'd play to that.

I said, "May I."

Alex, happy for the help, said, "Yeah."

"You came home one day, for whatever reason, and found Jennifer masturbating on your bed. Maybe that first day you backed out, but it happened again, then again, and you started to feel entitled; if she was pleasuring herself on your bed, who was she to complain if you watched? In your heart you knew it was a rationalization, but you didn't need much rationalization, did you?"

It would fix a picture in both their heads.

"I've counseled a lot of young men, spent a lifetime studying them. A young man wanting to watch a woman as striking as Jennifer masturbate doesn't really require explanation, does it?"

I ran a finger along Jennifer's jaw line.

"She's a stunning woman."

I took her hand in mine, turned it towards him.

"Her hands are lovely and strong."

I sat back up, pushing my vagina into the couch.

"Such a beautiful women, her hands on her sex, on her full lovely breasts, writhing, undulating on your bed, moaning in sexual excitement. Her skin must have been flushed, glowing a healthy pink. For you, for any young man, it was, to be crude, a porn-video, come to life. Maybe in a perfect world you'd back out and respect her privacy, but this is not a perfect world and the fact that she was doing it on your bed, gave you all the permission you required - she was not respecting your privacy, why should you respect hers."

Mouth open, he nodded his agreement, his effort to hide his erection forgotten.

Throughout it all I stroked Jennifer's hair. Breathing heavily, unconsciously wetting her lips with her tongue, she leaned back into my hands, stretching her body like a cat, arching her back. Alex, his face flush, stared at her.

I played to the exhibitionist in her.

"Jennifer, you can understand him watching, can't you? It must have been incredibly sexy. You're stunning, you must feel men's eyes on you all day long, and you were on Alex's bed, in his room, as if performing for him. You must understand how amazingly arousing it was. He must have been hard and stiff; his heart skipping beats, his judgment clouded."

He'd all but confessed it and I'd just said it: she turned her step-son on. I looked at him. While he didn't confirm my statement, his unmitigated lustful stare did.

I looked back to Jennifer. She was imagining herself on Alex's bed, fingering her sex, as her step-son secretly watched, his dick hard and throbbing. Her skin, already flushed pink, turned almost red; her mouth fell open; her tongue flicked out to touch her upper lip.

In a distracted voice Jennifer said, "Yes, watching me, I understand."

She took a deep breath, trying to regain control, reached over, took Alex's hand in her own, turned it over, ran a finger across his palm, and purred as much as said, "I guess we both went over the line."

Alex covered her hand with his own.

"Yeah. I mean I knew it was wrong, but it was so hot watching you. But still, I'm sorry, I was bad."

In a little girl voice she replied, "Yes, you're right, but I was being naughty too. Playing with myself on your bed, in your room. Putting my finger in myself, bringing myself off. I was a bad bad girl. I hope you can forgive me"

"Now I want you two to kiss, tell each other it was okay."

Jennifer looked at me. There was a hint of hesitation in her eyes, but not enough; she would abdicate responsibility and follow my lead.

She moved towards him, he towards her. Their bodies were trembling. Their lips met, lingered.

When she leaned back against me she arched her back, took hold of a strand of hair I'd loosened, brushed her lips with it, cooed, "I guess if I masturbate on your bed, I really can't object if you watch."

I ran my hands down the sides of her body, whispered in her ear, loud enough for him to hear, "You could even take it as a complement."

I sat back up. "Now I want you two to kiss again."

They didn't move.

My voice stern and sexy, a bit of the dominatrix, I said, "Doctor's orders," and placed a hand on Jennifer's neck and gently moved her forward. Alex leaned in, they kissed. He became the aggressor, working his lips on his stepmother's. His hand cradled her face.

Teenaged boys, you can always count on them to let their hormones take over.

Jennifer, her hand resting on his thigh, kissed him back.

When they ended the kiss I stood, sauntered back to my sofa, sat down, crossed my legs. Tantalizingly, one of my high heels dangled from my toes.

"Jennifer, Alex, it's clear to me and should be clear to both of you by now that you're deeply attracted to each other. To your credit, you tried to deny that truth and abide by society's taboos. The problem is that while you can try to ignore your feelings, you can't get rid of them and so you did what we all do, you buried them. But those buried feelings did, as they always do, burrowed their way back out - they're far too powerful and primal not to - reappearing as anger and resentment. That's why you've been fighting."

Jennifer, holding Alex's hand, said, "What about Alton?"

"Let me perfectly clear. Alton told me that the most important thing in the world to him is that you two stop fighting. I was explicit. I said, 'No matter what?' he said, 'No matter what.'"

I leaned forward, capturing their full attention.

"Jennifer, now that you understand your desire for Alex, do you love, do you respect Alton any less."

She turned her gaze inward, taking the question seriously, then said, No."

I turned to Alex. He, like his step-mother, had been carefully considering my question. "No, I don't."

"Good," I said, "It's time you two embraced your desires."

I stood. My breasts swayed in my sheer bra; my erect nipples were clearly outlined in the camisole. Holding out my hand to Alex I said, "Please stand up."

He did, the impressive bulge in his pants on full display. Jennifer's eyes lingered on it.

I flashed a seductive smile, held my hand out to her. There was a bit of doubt on Jennifer's pretty face; the battle raging inside her was not quite over, although the burning need in her eyes left no doubt as to which side would prevail. She took it, stood.

"Come with me."