Summer of Servitude

Delirium, thank you for the idea.

All characters participating in adult situations are 18 years and older. **

Erin sighed as sunlight spilled over her face. Winter always seemed to last too long. Autumn was her favorite season but nothing compared to the first warm rays of spring. The thump of the front door roused her from her languorous state.

"Hey mom, I'm home," called Jacob's familiar voice.

"I'm in the kitchen."

Jacob's youthful face rounded the dining room wall.

"Hun, why are you late?" Erin asked.

"That's my fault Ms. Sinclair," answered James. "I apologize."

"Is it just the two of you?" she inquired.

"Yes, mom."

Erin had been worried when the unlikely friendship had begun. Her son spending time with someone five years his senior seemed odd. Why would a teenager in his prime opt to hang out with a thirteen year old? At that age she only had eyes for those in her class or one year her senior. Granted there weren't any boys around Jacob's age in the neighborhood, but making friends with fellow classmates was more logical.

Polite inquires around the neighborhood were made. James mowed Ruth Rosewater's lawn in the summer and shoveled the walk after snow storms. The only forms of payment he accepted were slices of cake or pie. The only complaint she had found came from Mr. Ott.

"That boy drives that silly foreign car of his too fast and plays his music too loud," he said.

A month or so after the friendship began two more high school seniors, Shawn and Trevor, appeared. The inseparable and unlikely duo became a foursome. In an effort to allay her concerns Erin invited the other mothers for coffee at a local shop. Idle chatter was mixed with frank, honest discussions of the young men.

James' mother, Ellen, had been very complimentary concerning Jacob's manners and assured Erin that she would watch over Jacob as if he was her own. Each mother assured her that her son was not a troubled boy. The following day, while chewing her bottom lip, Erin paid fifteen dollars to a website to run background checks on James, Trevor, and Shawn. The results were spotless.

"May we go downstairs and play video games?" asked Jacob.

Erin smiled. "Sure. A casserole is in the oven and should be ready in thirty minutes."

The boys swiftly disappeared. A short time later, the sounds of gunfire and explosions wafted up the stairs. Sitting in her dining room Erin's eyes roamed her ceiling while lost in thought. Jacob had always been a quite, shy boy. James' friendship had drawn him out of his shell.

She had been in the kitchen preparing dinner one day when Jacob barged in and animatedly regaled her with a tale of a hotly contested round of Frisbee golf at nearby park. He had scored a birdie on the final hole that had clinched a win for his and James' team. The beaming smile on Jacob's face had melted away her worries. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that the unusual friendship filled a void in her son's life that she could not address herself.

With a vexed click of her tongue, Erin noticed a burned out bulb in one of the recessed lights. She heaved herself out of the chair and retrieved a small step ladder and a spare bulb. Up on her toes Erin frantically twisted her wrist in an effort to set the new bulb into place before her arm got tired. She cursed as her hard soled shoes slipped on the metal ladder step. A hand grabbed her waist while the other settled on her backside.

"Careful there, Ms. Sinclair," said James.

As she climbed down, the hand on her hip slid upwards to quickly cup her breast.

James patted her on the back. "Good thing I came up to get a drink."

Erin was dumbfounded. The touch had been so quick. Was it an accident? Had James meant to touch her?

Minutes passed as she was consumed by the internal debate. The oven's buzzer pulled her back to the present. Moments after she called, the boys emerged from the basement. James' behavior was no different.

"You are welcome to stay James," Erin offered.

"Thank you, but I've been eating here often enough my mom's getting jealous. I think I should go home and make amends."

She walked him to the door and watched as he climbed into his plain, white Toyota. The engine roared as he pulled away from the curb and blazed down the street. Mr. Ott, seated on his front porch, shook his fist at the car as it sped by.

Weeks passed in the hasty way that spring weeks do. No other inappropriate contact occurred, though James had developed a habit of touching her. A hand on her shoulder, a gentle touch on the arm to draw her attention, or a palm against her back to let her know he was there. Never was the contact improper, namely pawing or lingering too long. So Erin bit back her objections and in time became used to the contact.

After repeated begging and bargaining by Jacob, Erin relented and allowed a movie and video game night. She sat at the dining room table while her home was filled with frenetic teenage conversation. Empty pizza boxes and soda bottles lined the table. Erin was slightly aghast at the amount of food young boys could consume without any signs of distress.

"Ready for me to shoot you in the face?" asked Jacob.

"Bring it on little man," replied Shawn.

The boys bolted from the table. Before he left the room James stopped and turned around.

"Thank you for dinner Ms. Sinclair," said James before following his friends.

Erin busied herself with cleaning up the remains of dinner and addressing other small tasks around the house. Only twice did she have to ask the boys to keep the volume down. As the night stretched on, she slipped into more comfortable clothing, scooped up several movies, a glass of wine, and settled onto the couch.

At the beginning of her third movie the house had grown dark and the basement quiet. As the protagonist of the story finally yet reluctantly admitted his love, James slipped onto the couch. In the soft light of the flickering television his face was youthful and unreadable.

"Jacob, Shawn, and Trevor are out cold. I can't sleep. Oh, I'll refill that for you."

Before she could decline, James snatched up her wine glass and disappeared into the darkness. He returned with her drink and a tall glass of ice and soda for himself. As the tension between the two unlikely on-screen lovers grew, Erin's wineglass was refilled several times.

James settled onto the couch as he placed her full glass carefully on a coaster. The air conditioning had finally overtaken the record breaking heat of the day. As her body's metabolism slowed down and prepared for sleep, the cool air raised goose pimples across her skin. With the teenager sitting so close that their hips touched, Erin became acutely aware of her conspicuously hard nipples.

"A little cold?" James asked.

In response to her brief nod, he slipped his left arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. Erin attempted to politely shrug him off, but only resulted in pressing herself against him. His hand cupped her shoulder while his fingers gently traced with thin strap of her tank top. The light from the television glinted in his blue eyes while he idly sipped on his soda. As the on-screen lovers shared their first kiss Erin felt fingers slip the straps off her shoulder and slid the material below her breasts.

"James wait... Oh," she gasped as his mouth closed over her right nipple and a cold tongue caressed her sending a shiver down her spine. Warm, calloused fingers traced the curve of her shoulder, brushed the back of her neck, and entangled themselves in her hair. With gentle yet steady pressure, her head was pulled backwards until she was staring up at the ceiling.

Erin jumped as teeth nipped at her sensitive skin. James shifted his position while his other hand cupped and caressed her through her shorts. Attempting to defend herself, she closed her legs as best she could but it only resulted in trapping the offending hand in place. Saliva left from the departed mouth cooled and caused her nipple to harden further and ache deliciously.

All protests that formed in her mind resulted in wordless sounds escaping her mouth as the blonde teen molested her. She struggled, but with her head controlled her range of movement was limited. Each time James simply adjusted his posture and reasserted control.

Little sparks of sensation rolled down her ribs and settled below her navel as James focused on her nipples. Erin lost track of time as lips, tongue, and teeth teased her nipples all the while the hand between her legs maintained a constant, kneading pressure.

After a particularly loud gasp escaped her lips the hand left her hair, the teasing ceased, and her top was pulled back into position. With a pat on the top of her head James departed. In two heartbeats she bolted from the couch, stumbled up the stairs, and locked herself in her bathroom.

Mouth open and panting she considered her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes had a vacant, shocked look. James' saliva had turned parts of the white top transparent leaving the dark shadows of her nipples clearly visible.

Erin slumped to the floor, leaned forward, and rested her cheek against the edge of the bathtub. The cool tiles felt good against her knees. Her son's best friend had simply sampled her in her own home. Her underwear clinging tightly to her body betrayed her level of arousal. She was wet. Tears of shame ran down her cheeks as her aching nipples begged for attention.

By the time she forced herself out of bed the next morning and slowly walked downstairs, James and the other boys had departed.

A week passed without James entering her home. Bit by bit her feelings of guilt and shame ebbed away as the encounter retreated into the past.

Erin's day at work had been hectic. Loose ends always crept up when least expected and least desired. As she drove home she allowed her mind to wander. Four months ago she had been startled to realize that she was looking up at Jacob while talking. Young men seemed to grow in fits and spurts like weeds.

Shortly afterwards Jacob had asked to go sneaker shopping alone. She had had to choke back tears as she gave him the money and waited at the food court. A few weeks later she caught him staring in the bathroom mirror while playing with a chest hair.

Her little boy was slipping away. Soon the slimness of adolescent would thicken into the brawn of manhood. She shivered, it wouldn't be long until talk of driving and girls arrived. Oh God, at some point she would need to have the sex talk with him. Erin vowed to herself to have one last summer of fun before puberty with all its angst and fury stole Jacob from her. She had invoked all her vacation days in preparation. For the next month she and her son would have all the time together they desired.

A quick stop at the store secured the necessary items for a Sinclair Family Taco Night. Bulging bags filled her arms as she gently kicked open the front door. No one responded to her calls. Her heels clicked on the floor as she set the bags carefully on the kitchen counter. The damned tomatoes constantly tried to tip over. Keys clattered against granite as Erin looked out her back window.

Shawn was in the backyard tossing a baseball. The narrowness of the window restricted her view, but her worry about the house being empty was mollified. Erin set about putting away the groceries as the patio door slid open and then closed. A hand settled on her backside while she was bent over at the waist sorting through pots and pans beneath the counter while looking for a double boiler. She stiffened in surprise. Capitalizing on her shocked paralysis, a foot pushed between hers and moved them apart while strong hands kept her in place.

"Now, now, Ms. Sinclair. Behave," James whispered into her ear.

His left arm threaded between her elbows and her back. When he took a firm grip on her right elbow she found her arms were trapped in place. James' other hand found the zipper to her skirt and slowly tugged it down. The sound of each tooth unhooking thundered in her ears. The khaki-colored fabric brushed her legs as it slipped to the floor. Erin struggled against the young man as best she could as he pushed her upper body forward.

"James.. James.., " she said. Her voice sounded frantic and pleading.

His hand cupped her backside and slowly slid between her legs. Fingers rubbed in tight circles against the cotton protecting her. Erin gritted her teeth. Despite being angry and embarrassed she felt her body respond. She tried to kick backwards but James deflected her leg wide of the mark with his knee.

Erin weighed her options. She could scream. With the window and the patio door closed she wasn't sure it she would be heard. If she was, it would only serve to bring Shawn and her son to witness the scene. The older, more physically developed Shawn would be able to prevent Jacob from helping her if it came to that.

Her anger had blossomed into rage and frustration, but the touch of the teen was sending electric shocks through her. The muscles below her navel twitched and jerked with each caresses. Her panties were sticking to her as James continued his maddening pattern of circles. In short order the teasing fingers slipped underneath the thin veil of cotton. She swore she felt the ridges of his fingerprints as he caressed her.

Erin groaned as a finger pushed into her slit and sought her opening. Once he found his target, James moved the digit in a slow circle before pressing inside her.

"Remember the night I sucked your tits?" asked James.

Another groan escaped as the young man's finger slid fully into her.

"Want to know what I found interesting about that night?"

Erin gasped as second finger joined the first, gently stretching her.

"You never said 'no'."

She felt herself spasm and tightly grip the invaders as the truth of James' revelation sank in. The fingers slowly withdrew and then re-entered her. Erin felt her nipples tighten and press against her bra. As James continued his machinations she bit her lower lip until it hurt. Her son's friend was fingering her without her consent and yet she was grinding against the offending hand. She should be seeing red and screaming bloody murder, yet the thought that dominated her mind was the hope she would orgasm before he finished.

Erin felt another nudging pressure at her opening for several heartbeats before it relented.

"Just two. That's good," James cooed in her ear.

The probing fingers explored her thoroughly. Slowly sliding up and down; attempting to touch her from every angle. When James found a spot that caused her hips to buck involuntarily he repeatedly stimulated her, laughing each time she responded. Tears welled in her eyes as moisture ran down her right thigh. Erin chocked back a sob. She was angry yet she didn't want him to stop.

With a wet, smacking sound James withdrew his fingers. He pulled her panties back into place and patted her bottom. Erin felt the wetness of his fingers against the back of her right thigh.

"Good girl," whispered James as he kissed the back of her neck.

When Erin heard the patio door close she grabbed her skirt and bolted for the safety of her bathroom. Curled on her bathroom floor she cried. Trails from tears of anger and humiliation cooled on her cheeks as tears of frustration replaced them. Her anger had faded, but the heat between her legs raged on unabated.

Taco Night was a quiet, joyless event. Shawn and James had departed after the cessation of catch. Jacob seemed to sense her moodiness kept silent and out of sight. He didn't protest when bedtime was announced. After tucking him in Erin sat on the corner of her bed and changed into her pajamas. On the way to the kitchen for a cool drink before bed the doorbell rang. James' face appeared in the crack between door and jam.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I left my glove here and I need it for tomorrow."

Erin closed the door in his face. With quick, aggravated movements she searched the kitchen and the living room. The shock of seeming James' face had caused her nipples to stiffen. It was a reaction for which she hated herself. With a growl she returned to the front door.

"It's not here," she said.

"Please let me look. I really need it tomorrow and it's the best one I have."

Begrudgingly she opened the door wider and gestured him inside. He slipped past her while his head swiveled back and forth.

"I told you it's not here," she repeated.

James pulled the patio door aside, knelt on the concrete step, and reached beyond the frame of the glass pane. With a toothy grin he held up the missing glove.

"OK. Time to go," she said.

As she approached the door a hand took a firm grip on the belt of her robe. In a heartbeat James' other hand unknotted the belt and the robe was tugged from her body.

"James we can't," she protested as she back peddled from the young man. Her heel made contact and she tottered backwards onto the large leather ottoman. Erin swatted at his hands but his agile fingers unbutton her satin pajama top. His mouth on her right nipple caused her to gasp and arch her back.

In the moment of weakness, James hooked a finger into the bottoms and pulled them down along with her underwear. The need to fight was overwhelmed with her desire to gasp and shiver. With her head hanging off the edge of the ottoman, hair danced around her face while she writhed under the young man's mouth and fingers.

Large hands gripped her waist and pulled her to the center of the ottoman. The satin bunched under her back and allowed her to slip with little resistance across the leather. Erin felt powerless as James knelt between her spread knees.

With balled fists she hammered on his shoulders but he ignored the blows. Her mouth worked wordlessly as her body arched until only the back of her head and her hips were in contact with the soft leather. He had penetrated her without resistance or need of artificial lubrication.

James moved with long, slow strokes; pushing in as deeply as possible before withdrawing at the same pace and then repeating the action. Erin found herself grasping in vain at the smooth sides of the ottoman while tremors rippled through her legs. A hand cupped the back of her head as her son's friend leaned over her body. Erin's eyes locked onto his.

"What's your first name?" he asked.

"Erin."

Oh God. She was a woman. She should be exchanging coy glances over a candle lit dinner. Offering flirtations and sly hints to encourage the man she had selected to pursue her. Sex should have been the result of excitement and romance. Instead a boy that didn't even know her first name was using her in her living room. Shame and revulsion welled up within her as James' downward thrust filled her.

She ground her teeth. The pleasure causing her toes to tingle was wrong. How could this boy care about her? He hadn't even known her name. James pushed deep inside Erin and gave a quick rotation of his hips. Her eyes flew open and despite herself she felt a brief pulse of pleasure that always accompanied her orgasms.

Erin swallowed hard several times and tried to find her voice. The young man grinding his hips against hers was wrong. However, it felt so good. Her mind and her body were at odds. With each thrust of James' hips her physical desire slipped more and more into the dominant position. The teenager pushed into her fully and ground his hips against hers.

The brushing contact of his lower abdomen against her mound sent her over the edge. A long, low moan slid slowly out of her throat. Erin's fingers clutched at his shoulders while she locked her ankles behind James. She wanted to ride out the wave of sensation with his warm body as company.

As the flood of pleasure drifted away and was replaced with a satisfying numb tingling, she opened her eyes. James smiling face was directly in front of hers. He gave three hard, quick thrusts before his body tensed and his eyes slid closed. A pleased expression crossed his face as his body stiffened and stayed in place.