The Boy Across the Street

He complied and I let rip. The rumbling threat orgasm had been shaking me for some time. It was like a minor earthquake I once experienced, when it seemed to start a long way off and then came rushing towards us, then finally shaking the ground beneath out feet.

Now my orgasm no longer restrained came like an avenging fiend. I was shuddering from head to foot, screaming and yelling I don’t know what. Steve was working with me, drawing back and thrusting in powerfully, then suddenly, and just as I reached my climax, he was firing into me again.

Looking back, I am surprised that the noise we made did not set all the neighbourhood dogs barking and howling.

We ended up still coupled, gasping for breath, and I was luxuriating in the most exquisite post-coital relaxation I had ever experienced. That boy certainly knew what to do with a woman once he got going, and I had a shrewd suspicion he knew a few more things that he had not let loose on me this time.

Once we had calmed down and Steve had pulled out, my curiosity got the better of me, so I took my chances and making it sound like a humorous question, I asked, “Where did you learn to do all that?”

I did not expect him to answer, but quite ingenuously he replied, “With mum.”

I was stunned and wondered if I had heard correctly.

“Did you say your mother, Stella, taught you?”

“Yes. You see, I rather took over when dad got too sick to do anything with her any more. She’s always been a very sensual woman and what with looking after dad during his last illness, and going without sex, she got really depressed. She asked me if I would comfort her, “After all,” she said, ”it will help you to learn how to please a woman.”

I could scarcely credit what I was hearing. Stella, who is a few years younger than me, is attractive enough, given her age, but she had never struck me as a “very sensual woman.” She always seemed to be so shy and reserved, so it just goes to show you can’t always tell by the outside.

There was something that disturbed me about this revelation. If Steve was having sex with Stella, and she found out what Steve and I had just done, there would be hell to pay. On top of that, I don’t like being in the second rank with a man I make love with, so I fronted Steve with it.

“Do you mean, you’re having sex with your mother, and now you’ve had it with me?”

“Oh no,” he protested. “Mum and I stopped some time ago. She said she felt a bit insecure having sex with her son, as she thought it wouldn’t last. Now she’s found herself a boyfriend about her own age. They might even get married, so she couldn’t very well carry on with me.”

“To tell you the truth, Jan, I’ve wanted you for years, so I’m afraid mum was a sort of substitute. I like older women, you know.”

“Yes, Steve, I rather gathered that. So what do we do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, since we’ve had a taste of each other, do we want to continue eating, or do we say ‘enough’? Put it another way, shall I pay you some more installments?”

“Yes please,” Steve said with hasty fervour, “Now?”

“Don’t tell me you can manage another one?”

“Well, yes, if it’s all right with you, Jan.”

“Where you’re concerned, my darling boy, any time will be all right, but it isn’t quite what I meant. What I wanted to work out was just when we could get together. I mean, your mother might not like the idea…”

“Mother’s got her boyfriend, I don’t see why she should complain if I’ve got my girlfriend.”

“I’d rather Tom didn’t know,” I said. “He doesn’t do anything with me these days, but it might still hurt him if he knew, and I don’t want that.”

We made times when we could safely get together for some conviviality, and then we proceeded to join in congenial sexual congress over the next couple of hours.

Over the following weeks Steve and I continued to make each other very happy and contented, but I still felt a bit apprehensive about Stella.

This situation was resolved when one day, while I was working in the front garden, and trying to tempt Steve to cross the road to me, Stella emerged from their house and came over to me.

She started in without preamble: “I’m so glad Steve has found a nice friend in you. I somehow thought you two might get on well one day because he’s often talked about you. He was getting quite surly, you know, Jan. Now he seems so happy and relaxed.”

“I might be getting married again soon, Jan, and if I do Arthur, my intended,” (she grew a little demure) will come and live with us. I’d hate to have Steve feeling resentful because…”(I think she pulled herself up just in time) “because there was another man in the house.”

“I’m sure he’ll be just fine, I assured her.”

Stella kissed me on the cheek and went back into her house.

As I said at the beginning of my tale, I am fifty-two at the time of writing. When things began with Steve, I didn’t expect them to last. I thought I would be an interlude between his mother and some young girl. After all, why should he go on wanting a woman more than twice his age…?”

Sorry, I have to stop writing. I can see Steve crossing the road and…