The Game: Part III

The final chapter. 😀
Enjoy, fellow perverts.

I've noticed that the Erotica category is no more, therefore I shall be discontinuing my writing of such style, for the time being.
Proceed..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My heart surged with her words. The answer was clearly yes, but the question was understated. I bought myself a few extra seconds by drawing her into a deep, passionate kiss. She was an extraordinary kisser, sliding her mouth inside mine with a stealth-like rhythm. I pulled back and looked into her eyes.

“Mary, I want to more than anything . . . but, I don’t know if we should . . .”

She paused. “I know, I’m not prepared either.”

“Prepared?”

“I haven’t had a sexual relationship in a very long time, David, and I sure didn’t think we’d be standing here right now. I had no reason to be on the pill and I don’t stock the other stuff.”

The relief washed over me like a wave. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Then again, why hadn’t I thought of that when I was with Skylar? Chances were good based on what I heard happening between her and Shawn that she had taken those precautions.

“Well, we can grope, can’t we,” I chuckled, pulling her close to me again, tracing the small of her back with my hands.

While we tried to place our minds elsewhere, it was obvious the situation was heating up in a hurry. The robe she was wearing provided little resistance to my hands as they roamed across her bottom and up her back. Before long I found myself sliding my palms around and across her breasts, over the pronounced outline of her erect nipples, as I bathed in the warmth of her mouth. Her palm moved to my hip, followed by a tight squeeze of my throbbing cock.

“We should slow this down,” she said out of breath. “It’s only making things worse . . .”

“Think clean thoughts Mary,” I whispered in her ear, wanting her more than I could describe.

“Clean thoughts . . . Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Think of what?”

“Well, I know we can’t . . . you know . . . go all the way. But, would you like to take a shower? I bet you feel kind of muggy after that party and I’ve got a really big sponge . . .”

I smiled from ear to ear. “Will you do my back?”

She laughed. “I’ll do your back, all right. Wait here . . .”

She left me for a moment, sliding closed a partition that separated the bathroom area from the bedroom. I took a seat on the bed and waited patiently, listening to the sound of the shower door opening and the water coming on. It was only moments before Mary slid the partition open again, wearing only a towel. The form I had admired that first night in the sundress was barely shielded from my eyes. She looked incredible — so womanly; her curves mature and pronounced beneath the thin layer of terrycloth.

“You’re overdressed,” she smiled.

“I am indeed,” I said, standing and starting to unbutton my shirt.

“Hold on there, that’s my job.”

I smiled as she reached out and took my hand, guiding me first towards her, then back against the wall. She stared into my eyes as she worked the buttons of my shirt loose.

“You like the water hot or cold?” she asked as she undressed me.

“Hot, but I’m flexible.”

“I like to taste the steam,” she said, pushing back the lapels of my shirt and running her palms down my chest.

I took a deep breath as she leaned forward running her mouth over my nipple. Slowly she circled it with her tongue before sweeping across in a string of kisses until she had reached the other side.

“You have a nice chest, David,” she whispered, returning her mouth to mine.

“So do you,” I smiled, gently tracing my fingers inside the edge of the towel and against her skin. She smiled into my eyes and bit her lip as I worked loose the towel. It fell to the floor with a muffled thud. I swallowed hard as I looked down at her erect nipples. My eyes traced down further to a rich bed of dark brown pubic hair.
She took my belt, tugging at it until the clasp was free. I felt my breathing getting jagged as she worked loose the button that held my trousers closed. I wanted to be free and nude with Mary and she could sense it. She worked the pants loose and slid them over my hips until they fell the rest of the way under their own weight. She giggled as she looked down at the pronounced ridge fighting to be freed.

“I see we made the switch to boxer shorts,” she giggled.

“Didn’t have to ask me twice.”

We laughed as she slid her fingers inside the waistband, teasing and taunting me.

“Mary?”

“Yes David?”

“Are you going to pull them down, or should I?”

“You men . . . always in such a hurry.”

She grinned and left me standing against the wall, my boxer shorts still wrapped snugly around my waist, my now granite-like erection clearly outlined. I watched the curve of her bare bottom as she moved into the bathroom. I slid my boxers down my thighs and stepped out of them, following her into the bathroom. Mary opened the shower door and reached inside, fanning her hand back and forth under the water.

“Feels just right,” she whispered, taking my cock in her damp grip and applying a long stroke from base to top.

I shuddered slightly at the feel of her skin against mine as I reached forward and cradled her soft cheeks in my hands, guiding her mouth to my own. She continued kissing me as she led me by the cock into the steaming stream of water. I pulled the door closed behind us and turned to see her leaning her head back, drenching her mane of thick brown curls under the pulsating flow. She swung her head from side to side for a moment and opened her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me in a seductive tease.

“I can’t believe I’m not more nervous,” she said.

I smiled, realizing this moment felt as right for her as it did for me. I reached behind her to the rack hanging down from the shower head and grabbed the soap in one hand andan oversized sponge in the other. Working up a generous lather, I began a gentle caress of Mary’s shoulder, running the sponge down her arm, then across her shoulder and down her ample chest. I watched with anticipation as her breasts heaved under the water flowing down and over her shoulders.
Gently I moved the sponge across one nipple as I leaned down and used my mouth to encase the other. I felt her fingers drawing through my hair and pulling me into her as I went to work on her breasts. One received the lather and the sponge as the other fell prey to my wandering mouth. I guided her back gently, rinsing the soap that had gathered, before alternating my attack.

“Oh David,” she moaned, “It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this . . .”

Her words trailed off as I pressed the sponge against her stomach, letting a river of suds flow down her bare navel and across her waiting arousal. I dropped the sponge to the shower floor, replacing it with my palm as I began a slow descent, my mouth moving against hers. Just as my fingers slid between her legs, I felt her one hand clutch around my neck as her other gripped my engorged cock.

We spent what seemed like minutes working over one another’s most private areas, me delving deeper inside Mary with my fingers as she pumped her fist up and down my shaft in alternating rhythms. I leaned my head back as she stroked me, staring at the steam rising towards the ceiling. She went to work on my own chestwith her mouth, biting, sucking, and tugging at my nipples with her teeth. I was in heaven; there was no other way to describe it.

“This is making me crazy, David. God, I wish we could . . .”

“Me too,” I muttered, as the water fell into my mouth and down my chin.

I opened my eyes and looked up at the water pulsating from the shower massager mounted above. I cradled Mary's face, pulling her cheeks close to my own in a deep, lustful kiss as I guided her backwards until she was leaning against the tiled shower wall.

She lifted my hand to her mouth, wrapping her lips oh-so-seductively around my index finger. Staring at me with those incredible brown eyes, she sucked up and down, moaning and sighing with pleasure. I shuddered as she continued, imagining how that gorgeous mouth must feel wrapped around my cock. She continued for several strides, finally easing up and smiling. “Would you like me to do that somewhere else?” she teased.

“No — it’s your turn to beg,” I smiled as I reached upward to the showerhead.

I worked loose the massager from its holder and turned to Mary who was giddy with anticipation. Turning the control to the highest setting, the water started pounding in a mechanical circle. We watched together as I directed the stream towards her nipple, circling it around the edge. I worked across her chest to the other side and she giggled again in anticipation. “Lower?” I asked with a sinister grin.

“Yes please . . .,” she giggled.

I arched the showerhead across her chest and started down her stomach as she leaned back against the shower wall, spreading her legs. Her hands were palms down against the tile; her breathing heavy as I worked an imaginary line up and down her abdomen with the pulsating flow. Like a surgeon, I was methodical, moving lower and lower, until it was clear she could stand no more.

“Ready?” I whispered, already knowing the answer, but still wanting to hear her say it.

She opened her eyes and stared at me, nodding briskly, yet silently.

I smiled and used my one hand to massage her lips as the shower head went to work. It wasn’t seconds before her hands were laced around my neck as I used the driving rhythm of the shower massager like fingers against and inside her. I teased at her clit, then turned the massager upside down until it was pounding at her opening. Realizing this would only go so far, I used my hands to pick up where the water left off, delving deep inside her — first one finger, then another, using the force of the water to tickle her clit as I found every erogenous crevice.

Her hips started to rock up and down against the tiled wall with the movements of my hand. I continued, fucking her with my fingers, flicking at her clit with the grinding shower massager until I knew she was close. Like travelling back in time to the dance floor, I smiled and turned the tables.

“Wanna cum?” I teased.

She answered by using the hands she had laced around my neck to draw my mouth into hers. We fucked with our mouths as my fingers disappeared inside her, the showerhead continuing its massage.

“I’m cumming,” she mouthed between kisses.

I could feel her orgasm against my hand as she whimpered in between kisses. Her body started to shake and she hugged tighter around my neck for support. I was mad with desire, but determined not to stop until I was certain Mary couldn’t take anymore. Ironically, it was me that couldn’t wait any longer.

I dropped the showerhead and it swung backwards against the porcelain tub with a loud clap. Mary didn’t seem to notice, drawing her palms to my cheeks and engulfing me with her mouth in a furious kiss. I used my fingers to deliver a final, hard tug to her nipples before turning her around to face the wall. She seemed to be reading my every thought, spreading her legs as wide as the tub would allow and arching her beautiful ass up in the air.

I bent down and positioned my cock, lifting up and inside her. Her head tilted back and she let out a lustful moan as I buried myself in a forceful thrust. I grabbed her hips and began fucking herwith all I had to offer, shuddering and watching as she ground against me with her bottom. Knowing I couldn’t last long, I wrapped my palms around her and massaged her wet breasts as we continued. I could tell she was fighting to muffle her moans as much as I was; yet the sounds of our combined passion seemed to bounce against the shower walls.

“David,” she gasped. “You can’t cum . . .”

“I know . . .”

I delivered a final set of thrusts and pulled out with barely a moment to spare. Mary was ready and pushed back against me until my cock ran the crevice of her butt. I let out one last muffled scream as I came in wave after wave across her back. She held her position, gently rocking her ass against me, my thighs quivering against her own until my orgasm was complete. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes as I tried to catch my breath.

“You okay,” she whispered.

“Incredible,” I answered. “Hold still.”

I reached backward and grabbed the plastic tube that connected the showerhead and snaked it up in my hands until I could grip the nozzle. With care I washed Mary off, then returned the massager to its holder.

We kissed and held each other for a few moments, then dried one another off. I held her in my arms, never wanting to let her go, but realizing it was time to face up to everything that had happened. The worst part came in realizing that, from where she sat, we had begun a future together. I took her face in my hands and stared into her eyes.

“Mary, there’s something I need to tell you.”

She stared up at me and I wondered if she could sense what I was about to say. “You don’t need to say it David — I already know.”

“I don't?”

“I think I’m in love with you too.”

I shut my eyes and held her head to my chest, as I felt myself fighting back a wave of tears. I would have given anything at that moment to go back in time and change the incidents with Skylar. The best I could hope for was to wait until my mind was clear then decide how to tell her; no matter how much I cared for her, this could never work.

“Mary, I should go — before Skylar wakes up.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to leave,” she said, her cheek pressed tight against my chest.

I squeezed her tighter. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Can we lay on the bed for a few minutes and just have you hold me?”

I nodded silently and we made our way out of the bathroom.

~~:~~:~~

My eyes opened to the sunlight flooding the bedroom. At first I wasn’t completely sure where I was or how I got there. I turned to the side to find Mary lying next to me; her head propped up on her hand.

“Morning,” she smiled.

“Good morning,” I muttered through the worst case of cottonmouth I could remember.

“Sleep well?”

Suddenly I realized I was nude and still in her bed as the weight of the moment hit me. At some point she had gotten up and put on a robe, leaving me to reach down and drag the sheet to cover my exposed chest. I could hear some rumblings in the kitchen — some cupboards opening and closing, some dishes being shuffled around. I looked at Mary, then to the sound from the other room.

“It’s Skylar — she’s an early riser.”

“Skylar,” I said nervously. “I must have fallen asleep. I was going to be gone before she got up.”

“You did fall asleep . . . just like a man,” she grinned. I sat up in the bed and looked around the room for my pants. Mary reached out and caressed my shoulder lightly. “David, it’s okay. I made the decision to let you sleep. We’ll tell her together.”

I flopped back into the mattress, realizing there was a lot more to Mary’s decision not to wake me than she realized. “What do you think she’ll say?”
She inched herself off the bed. “Get dressed and we’ll find out.”

I dressed in silence as Mary brushed her teeth. She made it to the door and paused, her hand on the knob. “Nervous?” she asked me.

“Yeah, you?”

“Very. Wait here for a minute, then follow me out.”

She turned the knob and opened the door. I stayed behind and listened to the pending conversation. She and Skylar exchanged their good mornings and I could hear Mary pulling down a coffee cup.

“So David must have left early?” I heard Skylar say.

Mary was silent for a moment. “Well, that’s something we need to talk about, Skylar.”

I could hear the quiver in her voice as she spoke and decided she shouldn’t have to bear the weight of this conversation by herself. I took a deep breath and opened the door. Skylar was seated at the table with a bowl of cereal when I entered the kitchen. She was looking in the direction of the sink where I assumed Mary was standing. She turned to see me entering from the bedroom and I could almost see the color drain from her face.

“Oh — my — God!” she shouted.

“Take it easy,” Mary said, moving to the table. She reached over and pulled out a chair next to Skylar. “David, come in here and sit down.” Sheepishly I moved into the kitchen and took a seat. “Skylar, David spent the night last night.”

“Yeah, I pretty much figured that out all my own,” Skylar quipped, slamming down her spoon and leaning back in the chair.

Mary continued. “Look, I know this is awkward — believe me, it’s awkward for us too, isn’t it David?”

“Very,” I mumbled, forcing myself to look at Skylar. I could feel her eyes boring a hole right through me. Her chest was flushed and her breathing was heavy. I was trying desperately to send her a mental request not to mention what happened between her and I the night before.

“So, I guess this was all a big lie — this friendship of yours and David’s was more friendly than you let on?” Skylar said, staring at Mary then glaring at me.

“No, now I know what you’re thinking because we’ve talked about this. David and I were friends, all the way up until last night. It’s hard to describe how things unfolded – lets just say we discovered some feelings that neither one of us knew the other had — romantic feelings. I asked David to spend the night Skylar, feeling that you were mature enough to understand that I need male companionship in my life. I love you Skylar, more than anything in the world — but I have needs that go beyond a mother / daughter relationship.”

“So what are you saying, you two are a couple now?”

Mary leaned forward and took her daughter’s hand. “Skylar, please try and understand and please try and accept David into our lives. Will you at least give him a chance . . . for me?”

Skylar turned to me and stared for what seemed like minutes before turning back to Mary. “I don't know if I can do that.”

Mary squeezed her hand. “Will you try?”

Skylar paused, staring into her eyes. “I'll try, but I’m not making any promises.”

Mary leaned forward and kissed her gently. “Thank you, Skylar. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

“I’m going to get dressed,” Mary said. “David, are you hungry? Help yourself to whatever you want.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Mary took her coffee and disappeared into the bedroom. As soon as I heard her door close, I looked in Skylar’s direction. “I didn’t plan this,” I said. She glanced up at me, but didn’t respond. “Say something, Skylar . . . anything.”

“Anything,” she said with sarcastic twang in her voice. “You know, when I said to distract her last night . . . I didn’t mean you had to distract her THAT much.”

I forced a smile. “Believe me, I never would have anticipated that last night would end up the way it did — that includes you and me, by the way.”

“Well, that makes two of us. You can probably figure out that this whole thing doesn’t make me feel very good. I hope you didn't tell her — about us, I mean.”

“Of course I didn't tell her. Do you think I'm nuts?” She stared at me. “You don't need to answer that.”

She smiled, helping to break the tension. “I guess I'm not used to such a dent in my ego,” she added. “I mean, it's not every day I find myself wanting a guy and throwing myself at him, only to have him reject me — for my mother, no less.”

I felt an emptiness form in the pit of my stomach. Her words were hurtful, but true. “Let me ask you something, Skylar. Did you really want me — I mean, honestly want me, or was it something else?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, I'm not the type of guy you would go for, we both know that. What I guess I'm asking is, was it me, or was it the challenge you were after?”
At first she didn't answer. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess, yeah, I wanted you that much more because you were playing hard to get. It was like a challenge — but yes, I like you — or rather I used to like you. If I didn’t, I would have just let you go.”

I was feeling worse with each passing moment. “Well, I still like you and what happened between us — I mean, if I would have known about your mom and me, it never would have happened. But it did, and now I have to deal with it — we both have to deal with it. I'd like to think we both learned something from it, wouldn't you?”

She let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I learned that men aren't worth the heartache, but I already knew that. You are a nice guy, David, and I can tell you’ll be good for my mom. She needs somebody like you in her life. I just . . .”

“You just what?”

“I just don’t want to see her get hurt again. Promise me that David — promise me you won’t hurt her . . .”

“I can’t make forever promises like that, Skylar, but you have my word that I’ll do my very best. I think I'm as much at risk of suffering a broken heart in this situation as your mom is . . . I mean, I'm really hooked on her.”

She smiled, her eyes telling me she realized I was telling the truth. “So, what does this mean?” she asked. “I mean, how are we supposed to act around each other after what happened last night?”

“Well, I think we should try and start over as friends and go from there. I think you’re a great person Skylar. I don’t know about you, but I can never have enough friends.

She forced a smile and nodded her head in agreement. “How ‘bout one last hug?” she asked. “As friends, I mean.”

I smiled, stood up, and she wrapped her arms around my neck in an embrace much like you’d receive from a sister. You could definitely have fit an abridged dictionary between us. “So what happened between you and I is our secret?” I asked as we had stepped away from one another.

She looked at me. “What? Like anybody would actually believe I’d go for an old guy like you?”

I laughed. “Good point . . . Thanks, Skylar.”

“Want some cereal?” she asked, returning to her seat and pushing the box in my direction.

“Yeah . . . some cereal sounds good.”

~~:~~:~~

It took about three months, ten days and a handful of hours for Mary and I to call off the romantic part of our relationship.

It was a torrid first month we spent together, followed by a reality check that I couldn't mold the facts to mend my conscience. The closer Mary and I got to one another, the more I felt myself pulling away. As hard as I tried, I just couldn't put aside what happened between me and Skylar and the haunting memory of it all felt like a bad gambling debt that I'd eventually be called to pay. These days I'm living with another dose of reality; the one that I'm more in love with Mary now–six months after the breakup–than I ever was before.

Our parting of ways happened just as I thought it would originally. No big blowout, no yelling, nothing like that. Instead we just drifted apart–one day at a time. She was the one to finally suggest we give ourselves some space. The writing was on the wall, she said, and something had to give. As demanding as everything else was in her life, she didn't need to add a bitter breakup. No hard feelings, she emphasized, but it was better to face the reality. I reluctantly agreed, gave her one last kiss, and sat in my car crying harder than I've ever cried in my entire life.

Skylar called me at the office the following day to ask if she was the cause of the breakup and to reinforce that she would never have told Mary about that infamous night. I believed her and told her so, but at the same time I felt like I was living a lie. I told her that too.

I've spent quite a bit of time in the 'wish-I-shoulda-coulda' mode when it comes to Mary and me, thinking how differently things might have been. I wish I had maintained myself better around Skylar, at least to the point that the physical attraction wasn't so obvious. I shouldn't have given in so easily that night in the backyard when things started heating up between us. Also, if I hadn't been so soused, we wouldn't have ended up in such a compromising position on that hide-a-bed. But more than anything, I wish I would have been honestwith Mary about my feelings. If I would have put aside my ego and confessed my jealousy that night, the worst I would have had to endure was rejection. Instead I ended up losing so much more.

I saw her recently. Oddly enough, I've become quite the fan of wine and bumped into her at another one of Mark and Susan's tasting parties. It had been almost six months since we'd seen one another and she was as beautiful as I remembered. We spent most of the evening in that same corner of the yard reminiscing, laughing, exchanging terrible lawyer jokes, and ignoring everyone around us.

The last thing I remember was her gorgeous smile as I walked her to her car. Call me sometime, she said, as she pulled the door shut and started the engine. I'm not sure if she really wants me to call, or if she was just saying that. Maybe she wants me to call occasionally–like every six months–just to check in. Or maybe . . . maybe she meant I should call her soon? Maybe there's a second chance brewing here to start over? Considering how much I miss her, maybe I'm just reading too much into it all.

One thing I do know; this dating game can get awfully complicated sometimes.