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Message-ID: <29577asstr$985662602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: One Gallus <onegallus@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Signals 3 (mf, Fm inc) 
Date: Mon, 26 Mar 2001 22:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


<1st attachment, "Signals 3.txt" begin>

Note:  This story contains graphic sexual 
descriptions and should not be read where it 
is illegal or by people under the legal age 
under their local laws.

Note:  This story may not be changed or 
posted or otherwise used without permission 
from the author.




SIGNALS
Part 3
By OneGallus




After supper, I purposely stayed in my room and worked 
on my song, trying to keep my mind off Mom's and my 
scheduled "conference."  I could see that she was not 
going to be hard-nosed about sex.  But she also seemed 
intent on impressing me with the responsibility I had 
when I was out with a girl. Yet, the more she talked 
responsibility, the more exciting things were getting 
to be.  It was as if she were pulling me back with one 
hand and pushing me forward with the other.  As 
puzzling as it all was, I loved every moment of this.

At nine-forty-five, I laid the guitar down, and went 
to the bathroom for a hot shower.  Afterward, I put on 
a light pair of short pajamas.  I walked into the 
living room, to find Mom lying on the couch in her 
white gown, her eyes on the TV.  She glanced at me and 
smiled.  Dad was in his pajamas, sitting upright in 
his recliner, rubbing the whiskers of his face, making 
ready to push himself laboriously upward and stumble 
for the bed.  He yawned, stretched and said, "Might as 
well hit the sack."

"Oh," I said, "You have to work on Sunday?"

"Ahh, just the afternoon.  I gotta go down for a 
meeting at twelve.  Something about stuff going on in 
Germany."  Dad forced himself up and shuffled toward 
the bathroom. 

I sat down in the vacated recliner and felt its warmth 
where he had been sitting.  I looked at the TV.  A 
movie on TBS was showing, "The Bridges of Madison 
County."  Clint Eastwood and Meryl Streep were into 
some heavy breathing when I heard Dad's pee hit the 
water in the toilet bowl.  He had not pulled the door 
shut.  His stream was quite vigorous, and I turned to 
look at Mom.  Her eyes were crinkling with mirth as 
the loud churning drowned out the quiet dialog on 
television.  We grinned at each other.  When Dad 
finally came to the end of his offerings; he dribbled 
deeply in a low bubbling register.  Then, coming to 
the end, the watery note bent upward, to a high 
soprano tinkle.  He did this a total of three times.  
When the flush came, Mom and I exploded into muffled 
laughter.  Finally, we calmed and heard him washing 
his hands.  We were settled by the time he stepped out 
into the hallway.  I heard the bedroom door click 
shut, and we giggled again.

"So," I said to Mom, "what have you guys been talking 
about?"

"The usual," she said.  "Nothing.  Did you get the 
song written?'

"Well, I'm close."

"Let's hear it."

"You sure?" I asked, burning to share it with her.

"I can't go to bed without hearing your lyrics, babe."

I went to my room and picked up my sheet of lyrics.  
When I returned, Mom had moved to the couch, and had 
seated herself in much the same way as we had sat that 
afternoon, complete with the throw pillow for the 
armrest.  I knew then that our talk was still on.  

I had intended just to read the verses to her, but 
then I thought better of it.  "Ahh, maybe I should go 
back and get the guitar," I said, turning around on my 
heel and heading back out of the room.

"No, sing it unaccompanied.  I like Celtic that way 
anyway," she said.

"You sure?"

"Sing it."

"Wait a minute, before I do, I gotta thank you."

"Thank me?"

"Yeah.  I wrote this thinking of color, the color of 
eyes.  She's got greenish eyes like algae stones 
beneath the water but when you asked me if she was a 
hard woman, like the stones.  That got me to thinking, 
and that changed the whole direction of the song."

"Oh doll, you're sweet, and you are welcome. Go ahead 
now, sing it."

I positioned myself sitting straight up on the couch 
and holding the words in front of me, trying to catch 
the spirit of the song.  "Here goes," I said.   The 
tune was indeed a Celtic air, complete with alternate 
major and minor chords, fading into a sweet tonic 
major at the end.  The words were:

"My darling's eyes shine hazel green,
Like stones beneath the brook, 
Yet she has turned her face on me,
A flinty, stony look." 

Soft is her cheek beneath my touch
Likewise her rounded breast,
The heart within her brittle soul,
Is iron in her chest.

Within her marble mansion, she,
Caressed the clinking gold.
The warm blood of the farmer's heart
She trades for metal cold. 

By day I walk the fields I plowed,
In hopes of love and home,
By night I lay my body down
Upon a bed of stone.

I ended it, drawing out the final syllable and turned 
to look at Mom.  Her eyes were glistening with tears.

"You did take my idea, didn't you?" she asked.

"Yes! That's what makes it! It's not finished yet; I 
plan to extend that theme, `The Beautiful Hard-Hearted 
Woman!'"

She pulled me to her by my shoulders and kissed me on 
the lips.  She looked deeply into my eyes.  "You are 
so good!"

I was as well aware of her parental prejudices, even 
then, but I didn't object to the praise. Every boy 
needs positive reinforcement and Mom was giving and I 
was receiving.  Today, I know there were other forces 
at work as well. 

"Thanks for the inspiration Mom.  When I sing it at 
Carnegie Hall, I'll list you as co-writer on the 
program."

She slapped me playfully on the shoulder, then sat 
back and pulled her legs up under her.  "Now, my 
troubadour, let's see how you respond to signals 
without my telling you they're signals."  Her acetate 
gown had ridden halfway up her thighs.  

"OK" I said, taking her hand and holding it in mine, 
palm to palm.

"Wayne?"

"Yes?" I said, looking up at her.

"Are you OK with this?  I mean, I'm not making you 
feel...silly or anything, am I?"

"No ma'am.  I am your student, you are my teacher." I 
said truthfully.  What I was feeling was a growing 
excitement at my mother's touch.

"I just want you to feel at ease with girls," she 
said. "There's no great mystery about us, you know."

"I don't know about that, Mom.  I sure haven't figured 
it out yet."

"You don't have to be in awe of Sonia, or any other 
girl, Wayne.  We're just like you guys, we want to 
have fun."

"Yeah? Well, I don't think you're just like us guys, 
but I don't want to feel stupid."  I squeezed her 
hand. 

"You don't feel stupid with me, do you?"

"No."

"Well, I'm a girl too.  So you shouldn't feel stupid 
with Sonia.  You understand what I'm doing this don't 
you?"

"I understand, Mom."

She smiled, took a deep breath and began tickling my 
palm.  

"That's a signal, right?" I said.

"Respond!  Don't talk!" she said. "You let me do the 
talking, OK?

"OK," I said meekly.

Mom took another breath and began to move her 
fingertips lightly in my hand.  As she did she lay her 
head over and touched it to mine.  "You know, lover 
boy, you could bring Sonia over here."

"Ummm, I'm not sure her dad would like that." 

"Shhhh!  I said, `Don't talk!'" she resumed tickling 
my palm.  

I scratched her palm again and she scratched me back, 
harder.  "Why wouldn't her dad like it?  I would be 
here."  Mom dug her middle fingernail sharply into my 
palm, almost breaking the skin.

I jumped in surprise at the slight pain.  I ceased my 
finger movement and thought over the next move.  Was 
this a signal to keep quiet, or a signal to escalate?  
I decided on the second possibility and let go of her 
hand, only I put my palm directly on the skin of her 
middle thigh and let it rest there.  This is where I 
left off earlier today, I remembered, and it had been 
a very fine place to be. As I gazed at my hand on her 
naked leg, my cock was expanding rapidly.  

"You could rent a movie.  If her dad knows I'm 
hovering close, surely he wouldn't care."

Since I couldn't talk, I contented my self with 
nodding my head.  Mom's hand went directly to the top 
of my thigh, same position as mine on hers.  On my 
naked skin, her palm felt like a steam iron. However, 
she didn't allow her hand to rest.  She squeezed, and 
then began lightly stroking my thigh with her fingers 
just as she had my palm.

This was a new signal, but I knew Mom didn't want me 
to speak, just to react.  Spontaneity was not easy for 
me but finally I gave up thinking and simply did what 
I felt like doing.  I moved to the inner part of her 
middle thigh and teased it with my fingertips.  She 
was incredibly sexy here.

Mom closed her legs on my hand, trapping me there.  
"Ummm," she said. 

I was not moving now, but my hand was between two 
tender walls of flesh and I had no reason to complain.  
With her eyes on Clint and Meryl, and her hand on my 
thigh, Mom escalated her light stroking into a slow 
pulsing grasp.  She leaned her head into mine again 
and said hoarsely, "If want you me to, I could leave 
Sonia and you watching the movie, and come back 
later."  She slowly opened her thighs, wider this 
time.  My hand was free.

I nodded slowly in agreement to her suggestion.  Then, 
with hardly a movement, I reinitiated my finger-tease 
of her naked thigh. 

"You'd have to promise me you'd not go too far." Her 
voice came from the back of her throat.  

I nodded and increased my movement.  

In turn Mom reached down into the inner part of my 
thigh, just behind the muscle where it's soft.  Then 
she moved up slightly and prolonged her squeeze, 
increasing the pressure.  As she moved, she drew in 
her breath, a loud slow inhalation and then a slow 
exhalation.  With each gentle squeeze Mom moved her 
hand up.  My cock was rock hard.  Then my scrotum 
began to feel the brush of her long narrow hand; it 
was utterly maddening.  

Without so much as a second of forethought, I moved up 
on her inner thigh, pushing up the hem of her gown and 
stopping only when I felt the first yielding touch of 
her panties on the edge of my hand. My palm was on the 
softest flesh of her thigh. The edge of my hand was 
parallel with that crease between the abdomen and the 
thigh.  I may have felt a few strands of hair.  Mom 
was feverish and sweaty there. I was dizzy with the 
closeness, I reached across with my other hand and 
pulled her right shoulder to me.  I nuzzled her face 
and lips, and all I could say was "Mom." 

She kissed me lightly on the lips, leaned back, put 
her hand over mine and said, "OK, darling, you've got 
the idea, but I'm not so sure I need to leave the 
house if Sonia's here.  You're too quick a learner."

I took a deep breath, hoping my heart would slow.  I 
moved my fingers in the warm angle and said, "You're 
just a good teacher," I smiled.

"Yeah, well, I may have rushed it." She slowly removed 
my hand from her thigh, shifted her feet to the floor 
and pulled down the hem of her gown.


Mom leaned over, placing her elbows on her knees, 
almost self consciously not touching me.  "Wayne, in 
my first year of college, I met this guy who was in my 
speech class.  He was forty years old.  I asked him 
why he'd got such a late start in college.  He told me 
he hadn't started late; he just wasn't finished yet.  
He'd been at the university for twenty years, held 
three college degrees, but just didn't feel like he 
was able to break out into a career quite yet. I felt 
sorry for him."

"Humm," I said, wondering why she'd told me this 
story.

"I don't want you to be like that," Mom said.  "I want 
to teach you, but then every good teacher, and every 
good student lets go.  I want to release you at the 
right time and let you develop your own life with 
girls, the way you were intended to do.  You know what 
I mean?"

"I think so," I said, getting the point immediately. 

"OK, that's enough for tutoring for a while.  I want 
to see you do something positive about this friendship 
with Sonia."

"What if she doesn't want to be my friend?"  I asked, 
feeling my erection shrinking.

"Well, there are other mermaids in the sea, 
sweetheart!  Anyway, I don't think you're bankrupt 
with Sonia yet, ask her over for a family outing."

"When?"

"Tomorrow?  It's Sunday.  We could go to Huron beach 
if it's warm.  It'll probably be our last beach trip 
of the season.  I could call Paula and make 
arrangements."

Paula was Mom's sister.  She was married to a Sandusky 
doctor and lived about sixty miles from Toledo, right 
on the southern bank of Lake Erie.  She had an elegant 
of a house just off Taylor Avenue and a stretch of 
private beach behind it.

"What if it's cold?" I asked.

"If there's a blizzard, rent a movie, kid.  Remember 
we can always fall back on Plan B?  We'll have a 
picnic in the family room."

"OK, I'll give it a shot.  I'll call Sonia in the 
morning."

Suddenly, I realized Mom was not beside me.  She was 
on the other side of the living room, dialing the 
phone.  I listened to one end of the conversation, 
with pauses between her sentences.  "Hi, Paula?  This 
is Lea.  Yeah, I didn't wake you did I?  I didn't 
think I would, not at 11:30 on a Saturday night.  Is 
the beach open tomorrow?  OK if we come over?  Wayne 
and I, and his girlfriend.  Yeah, my little boy is 
growing up, isn't he?  Are you going to be there?   
OK, I'll just use my key.  Don't forget to leave the 
pass on the kitchen cabinet.  Ah, if it's cold, we 
won't come.  OK.  Thanks sister.  Bye."

She turned, "OK, all set on that end.  Call Sonia in 
the morning and see what you can do. We'll leave 
sometime after the noon hour if she can go."

"OK!"

"All right Wayne, listen to me, just loosen up a bit 
with Sonia but don't press things; take it slowly, get 
to know the girl.  They're other things besides 
touching.  Don't be guilty of moving too fast.

"How could I do that Mom?  You'll be there!"


The next morning, it was warm and sunny.  I called 
Sonia and told her of our beach plans and that Mom and 
I would like to have her come along.  I was surprised 
how excited she was; but then, it was a nice outing 
with a private beach on Lake Erie and a house that was 
practically a mansion.  She said she'd have to ask her 
father, and asked me to hold a moment.  I heard 
muffled voices.  At times, the voices were excited and 
sounded on the verge of being angry.  Finally she came 
back on the line. 

"Wayne?" Sonia said.

"Yeah?" I said, bracing myself for a disappointment.  

"Father said as long as your mother was there, it 
would be OK."

"Great!  OK, we'll pick you up about one o'clock."

Dad was up, silent, and reading the paper.  He seemed 
impatient for noon to come, so he could get to his 
labor relations meeting.

"Harold," Mom said, "We're going to the beach with a 
friend of Wayne's about one o'clock.  You could meet 
us there."  

I knew the invitation was only perfunctory and I knew 
what Dad would say.  

"We're s'posed to eat at noon," Dad said, "And then 
it'll be one o'clock before we start talking business.  
By the time I'd get to the beach, it'd be time to come 
back home."

Mom nodded her head, but said nothing.  I knew that 
was just fine with Mom.  It was just fine with me.


Mom wore sunshades and dressed in khaki slacks and 
light blouse.  I slipped on my jeans and a new dark 
blue cotton shirt with a bold yellow and red stripe 
slashing through it.  We packed our swimsuits in a 
duffel bag and drove the three blocks to Sonia's 
house.   It was a large brick home, somewhat 
elaborate, and certainly more expensive than the house 
I lived in.  As fine as it was, the wood trim was 
dingy and flaking paint.  Busy people, I thought.  

As we pulled up into the driveway, the front door 
opened before I could exit the car.  Out came Sonia in 
a gorgeous multicolored blouse, a pair of jeans and 
brown strapped sandals.  She was carrying a flight 
bag.  Behind Sonia was her father, I could see he was 
about my height and but with quite a slight build.  He 
looked pleasant, composed and very good looking.

When Mom saw that he was approaching, she opened her 
door and walked around to the passenger side just as 
Sonia and her Dad arrived.  "You must be Mr. Matthews! 
Mom said, smiling and extending her hand.  Hi, I'm Lea 
Renfro."

"Yes, yes. I am Jay Matthews," he said, smiling 
broadly and taking her hand.

"Well, I'm happy to meet you, you certainly have a 
lovely daughter," she said. 

"Thank you, thank you.  She makes a good American.  We 
are all good Americans now, but Sonia knows things I 
do not yet know."  

"Have you recently arrived here in America?" Mom 
asked.

"We are here five years," said Mr. Matthews, he still 
held to Mom's hand.  I looked at Sonia, and she 
grinned.

"Won't you and your wife go with us?"  Mom asked.

"Ah, no, no.  My wife is not living, but thank you 
very much.  I must go to visit the motels today."

"Oh, I'm sorry about your wife."

"She died our first year here, thank you very much."

"Oh that's sad.  Do you have other children?" 

"Only Dinesh-ah, Dennis, my son.

"Motels?  You said motels?"

"Yes, I have several around Toledo."

"Oh! I see.  We'll we'd love to have you come along."

"Ahh" Mr. Matthews seemed miserable.  "I cannot go, 
Mrs. Renfro.  Thank you very much."  He still held to 
her hand.

"Well, Jay, you and Dennis will have to come with us 
next time," she smiled.

"Yes, yes. I will come next time."

"When do you want us to bring Sonia home?"  Mom asked 
him.  I looked at their hands.  It was Mom who was 
holding on.  

"Anytime, as long as you are with her."

"OK," she smiled.  "We'll call you if we see we're 
going to be late, OK?"

"OK, thank you, Lea," he said, using her first name, 
nodding his head.  Mom, I saw, was a real charmer.

She released the Indian's hand and looked back to 
smile at him as she walked around the vehicle and 
climbed behind the wheel.

Sonia slid over to the middle of bench seat next to 
Mom and I got in on the passenger side.  Mom waved and 
smiled at Sonia's father as we backed out.  When we 
were out of sight of Sonia's house, I moved my arm to 
the seat back over her, and she relaxed, her body 
close and comfortable next to mine.  

"You have a very nice father, Sonia," Mom said.

"Thank you."

"He is very solicitous of you."

"Yes, he is quite interested in every part of my 
life," said Sonia, inadvertently explaining to me what 
"solicitous" meant. 

"Well, we all do love our children!" Mom said, 
glancing at me.  We drove in silence for a few 
minutes.

"You look great in that blouse," I ventured a 
compliment.

Sonia looked up at me, a bit surprised to hear me 
speak out.  "Well, thank you," she said, "It is 
Madras."  She giggled.  "You look nice too.  I love 
that shirt."

"Yeah, well, I almost didn't wear it, this shirt's 
been lost all summer."

"Really?" Sonia said.  Mom looked at me curiously.

"Yeah, I found it under my bed with a dust bunny 
sleeping on it."

Sonia laughed loudly; the joke was not funny, but she 
was going along with it.  

"So," I said, "Your Dad owns motels?"

"Yes, quite a number of them."

"Wow! Do you ever work for him?"

"Oh yes, Dennis and I always help out."

"Well, I need a part time job, maybe he'd hire me," I 
said, half joking. 

She laughed and said, "We are always looking for 
reliable people."

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"Yes, are you interested?"

"Maybe."

We rode on several miles

 "Sonia, do you remember much about India?" I asked.

"Yes, I was only eleven when I left, but I remember my 
country."

"So, what was it like?" I asked.

I watched Sonia carefully as she talked.   Frankly, I 
was focused on the girl and not her culture. I was 
largely ignorant of her native land, but I learned a 
few things on that ride to the beach.  For instance, I 
learned that in India, when you asked an Indian his 
name, you could expect three; his father's name, the 
name of his village, and his given name.  Mr. 
Matthew's original name was "Jaya Mathali," but he'd 
changed it several years before.

After a while, we stopped at Wendy's for lunch.  When 
we finally arrived at my aunt's house, Sonia and Mom 
went into a bedroom to change to their swimsuits.  I 
went into the bathroom and put mine on, a simple blue 
boxer style.  I looked at my body in the full-length 
mirror; it was OK.  My shoulders were not broad, and I 
could stand a bit more toning, but I was not fat and 
certainly not skinny.   I had attained a height of 
six-foot-two in on only sixteen years.  Actually that 
was not surprising, considering my mother was six-feet 
and my father was six-one.  My older brother was six-
four, and we took height in our family for granted.  
Though my swimsuit was not a brief cut, it surprised 
me how much of my nakedness was about to be opened to 
the public.  I was always a little shy about such 
things around the opposite sex but I steeled myself 
and rolled up my things in a bundle and exited the 
bathroom.

I waited for the women in the family room, looking out 
the patio door to the lawn, the hedge, and the beach 
beyond.  I heard the Sonia and Mom laughing behind me 
and looked around.  Mom was wearing a black one-piece 
suit cut high at the hips.  She looked surprisingly 
trim and very pretty.  Sonia wore a modest maroon 
bikini and a nervous smile.  Her dark skin contrasted 
with our relatively pale skin, as if she'd already 
been to the beach several times.  Sonia was slight of 
build.  Her body and legs were a little thin and 
muscular, but the curves were forming and portending 
good things to come.  Around the scalloped leg 
openings of her suit, a slightly lighter colored skin 
prevailed.  I glanced quickly at the crotch, and 
concluded that she had been recently active with the 
razor.  

I looked at her eyes and said, "You look gorgeous, 
Sonia."  Her face lit up and she gave me an open 
white-toothed smile. 

"Well," Mom said, "Shall we go out and expose 
ourselves to the multitude?"

We put our towels and sunscreen in Mom's duffel bag 
and locked the side door.  We walked directly to the 
back yard and down three concrete steps to the beach.  
The early September day was perfect.  Not hot enough 
to feel uncomfortable but warm enough to stay 
uncovered.  Mom's sister had left the low slung wooden 
beach chair, outfitted with its cushions, in just in 
the right place on the beach, parallel with the water, 
but back from it about forty feet.  Mom lay down on 
the beach chair and took out a book to read.  Sonia 
and I immediately went for the water, which we found 
pleasantly warm and surprisingly clean.  Other groups 
were on the beach, clumps of people in back of their 
houses, all up and down the stretch of sand but not 
crowded like a public beach.

Sonia and I waded into waist deep water and squatted 
down, bringing the surface up to our shoulders, 
comfortable in our buoyancy.  We were facing one 
another and after a few playful splashes we found 
ourselves with our fingers interlocked.  Sonia was 
smiling widely and beads of water dotted her face.  

"I'm glad you decided to come with us today," I told 
her.

"Well!  I am glad you asked.  Your mother is very 
sweet."

"Yes, she is.  You know, Sonia, I was afraid you might 
not want to come, but she encouraged me to go ahead 
and call you.  I was really surprised you'd even give 
me the time of day."

"Why is that?"

"Well," I stammered, "I... I'm not very experienced 
with girls, and I was afraid I'd made a bad 
impression."

She squeezed my hands.  "You did not make a bad 
impression, Wayne Renfro."  

"Just no impression at all, huh?" I half joked.

She released one of my hands and then drove a geyser 
of water toward my face.  I returned the gesture and 
we both laughed, wiping the water from our faces.  

"And what of me?  Did I not make an impression on 
you?" she laughed.

"Oh yes, you always make an impression on me." Our 
fingers drifted back to intertwine with each other.

"No, I am too dark and skinny."  Her eyes were very 
white against her complexion.  When she smiled, her 
gums showed quite pink and tiny beads of water 
glistened on the fuzz of her upper lip.  

"I like you just as you are," I said.

I pulled her to me so that her face was no more than a 
few inches from away. We were half-treading, and half 
standing in the water.  I felt our legs making contact 
under the surface. Sonia remained in a half squat 
position, but one of her legs had gone in between my 
legs, and of course, one of mine was between hers.  I 
felt her naked thighs treading against mine and for a 
moment I clamped it with my own thighs.

"Ah," she giggled, "and what is it that you like about 
me?"

"Well, I like the way we're sitting here," I said.

She squeezed my leg between her two knees, looking 
into my eyes.  Mom would have called that a "signal."  
I decided to react.  I released a hand and put my palm 
under the water, on her leg, just above the outside of 
her right knee and slid all the way up her thigh to 
her hip.  The high cut of her bikini made that part of 
her buttocks naked and there I rested my hand, content 
to remain on the slight swell of her ass.

"And I like this."

"You like that, do you?  What else do you like?" she 
asked.

"Your teeth, how white they are," I said, truthfully.

"I don't like my teeth, that's all I see when I smile, 
just teeth!"

"Well, it's not all I see, I see your face around the 
smile.  And what I see, I like."

"I am so hairy," she said, surprising me.

"I love your hair!" I said.

"No, I mean, on my arms, and..." she said, looking 
down, turning her face toward her shoulder.

"That's what I mean too," I said, coming very close to 
her face.

"What?"

"I like it, it makes me want to kiss you."

"Chou!" she said and geysered me in the face.  

"Hey," so that's the way you react to a compliment, 
eh?"  Then I stood up and geysered her unmercifully.  
She laughed, stumbled backwards and went under.  I 
took her by the hand and lifted her up; she was 
sputtering, coughing and giggling.  We walked, hand in 
hand, back to where my mother was sunning.  

"Just in time," Mom said, "The exposed skin on the 
front of her body glistening with lotion.  "I need 
someone to put sun block on my back."  She lowered the 
adjustable seat back of the beach chair and turned 
over on her stomach.  

"OK, we'll both do it," I said, going to the other 
side of Mom, straight across from Sonia.  "Hold your 
hand out Sonia."  She did, and I squirted a generous 
amount into her hand, and I then into my hand.  I 
slathered it on Mom's back and began to spread it on 
my side.  Sonia did the same on her side.  We rubbed 
it up onto Mom's shoulders and across her back, just 
above her swimsuit.  

"Unzip it Babe, and I want to take it down," she said 
to me, pulling her shoulder straps down and under her 
elbows. 

"Mom!" I said laughing nervously.

"Come on, I'm on my stomach!  I want to look like 
Sonia all over." Sonia giggled at this.

I unzipped Mom's suit and she lifted slightly to 
partially raise her breasts and brought the suit down 
over them.  The operation was so quick, I didn't see 
her nipples.  As she lay back down, her breasts 
pressed against the cushion, causing them to bulge out 
on the sides.  When I came to that part of her white 
flesh, I glanced up at Sonia who seemed to be 
concentrating on her task.  I smeared the lotion on 
the side of the breast, feeling that wonderful 
softness as I did. Mom's face was turned toward me, 
and she opened her eyes as I touched that part of her, 
she gazed at me as I rubbed her there.  When I 
stopped, she closed her eyes again.

"Don't forget the backs of my legs," she murmured, 
spreading her legs to give us access.

When she had been properly covered, Mom said, "OK, OK.  
If I fall asleep, don't let me stay too long, I don't 
want to burn."

We walked a few paces away from Mom and sat down in 
the sand, hugging our knees and looking out to the 
inland sea.  I looked down to see Sonia's toes 
burrowing into the sand.  I scooped up a moist handful 
of beach and poured it on top of her foot, and patted 
it down.  I repeated the process, working in silence, 
till I had a mound of beach sand completely covering 
her foot.  

"Now, pull your foot out," I said.  

When she did, she left a little burrow.  

"Let me do it to you," she said, and began to pile on 
the sand.  

"I like the feel of sand on my foot," I said.

"I too," she said,  "I like to sit in it."

I laughed, "Sit in it?"

"Yes!" said, and rocked her rear into the sand and 
giggled. 

"You're getting sand in your suit," I said.

"Yes, it feels good," she said.

"Like a clothesline pole?" I said, without thinking.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, now you must tell me," she said.

I lowered my voice and moved close beside her.  "Are 
you sure you want to hear this?"

"Yes, I am sure," she giggled.

"Well, I guess every little boy does this sometime, 
but when I was four or five years old, there was an 
old clothesline pole in our back yard, behind the 
garage.  One day, I decided to climb it, just to see 
if I could.  Well I did, and when I got to the top, I 
just hung there on to that top piece and squeezed my 
legs together and, well, this wonderful feeling came 
over me.  It felt so good, I didn't want to come down.  
Mom had to call me three times before I came in."

Sonia laughed and rolled her eyes at me.  "So, you 
think that is what I am doing when I sit here in the 
sand?"

"No, no, I just meant it felt good, like on your feet, 
you know!"  I grinned.

"I know you," she said playfully.  "You are a bad boy, 
and I know what you are saying."

"No, really." I laughed.

"We go to the water now," she smiled, and stood up and 
walked toward the lake.  I followed her lithe body out 
into two feet of water, gazing at the moist sand 
sticking to the suit and her little butt cheeks 
peeking out just below the suit.  She sat down.  I sat 
down across from her about five feet away, leaning 
back on my hands just as she was.  Our feet touched, 
and we played footsie with each other, trying to 
tickle each other's feet with our toes.  Then I sat 
up, and bent over, taking her ankles into my hand, and 
pulled her forward.  She screamed, "Careful, you will 
pull me under!" 

I was standing, bent in front of her now, her ankles 
in my hands, and tugging her a few inches at a time, 
making her move her hands behind her in a walking 
motion.  She was giggling and shrieking as I did.  She 
almost went under with the last pull, and I relented, 
and let her sit up straight.  I dropped down in front 
of her, her feet between my legs and very close to my 
crotch.
I reached over our legs, holding my hands out to her, 
and she took them. I pulled her toward me, feeling her 
feet come up against my cock, which was nestling 
against my stomach in the built-in jock strap of my 
swimsuit.  I looked up at her and her eyes were 
sparking.

"See, you are a bad boy, as I said you were.  I will 
tell your mother on you, Wayne Renfro."  

"Go ahead," I dare you.

Sonia tentatively tapped her toes against my growing 
firmness.  

"Oh, you are a very bad boy.  Jaya Mathali would no 
like this." She smiled when she said it. 

"Does it feel good there, sitting in the sand?" I 
grinned.

 "A little," she answered.

"Only a little?"

"Yes, sand is coarse, very gritty."

"Is it hurting you?" I asked.

"A little," she said.

"Do me with your feet again," I said.

"No," she said, pulling her hands from mine and 
reaching behind her to support her sitting position, 
backing away a little, and looking toward Mom.
 
"She won't see," I said, hoping to feel her toes on my 
cock again.

I followed Sonia's gaze as she looked toward my mother 
who was still on her stomach, but whose head was 
turned toward us.  Dark sunglasses hid her eyes.  

"No," she said.

I reached down under the water and encircled her 
ankles with my hands, intending to pull her feet into 
my cock, then I paused. I remembered my mother's 
words, "Never go beyond what she signals you to do."  

I lightened my touch and stroked down Sonia's ankles, 
under her heels and down her feet, squeezing them 
gently as I came to the arches.  Then I bent her toes 
slightly back and thumbed the hollow of her arches.

"Oh, that is nice," she said.  

"You know, Sonia, I am in love with your feet."

"Ah, you are a weird boy, Wayne Renfro," she laughed.  
"I have heard of weird boys like you."

I lifted a foot out of the water and saw that the pads 
of her toes were heavily wrinkled by the soak in the 
lake. 

"Well, just look at them, they're all wrinkled up and 
yucky; they need someone to love them!"

Sonia laughed at me and kicked my hands loose.  She 
stood up, and said, "I am going in!"

I sat in the water, and watched Sonia's little butt 
move as she walked toward the beach.  I knew I would 
have to give my cock time to shrink back to normal, 
and realized that Sonia must be aware of it too.  But 
there was nothing else for it but to wait.   

When Sonia reached my mother, Mom stood up, holding 
her suit over her front.  She turned around and Sonia 
zipped it in the back.  I noticed the stark contrast 
between the two females: Sonia petite, well-formed and 
dark, Mom long, slender, and graceful.  Then Mom 
started walking out toward me.  I began to spider walk 
backward into the deeper water.  When it became too 
deep to do that, I flipped over and crawled, then 
swam, to the waist high water. When Mom reached a 
depth that came up to her hips, she dived forward and 
came near, swimming to me under the water's surface.  
I stood waiting for her, my feet apart, knowing what 
she was going to do.  We had played this "tunnel" game 
before.  Sure enough, I felt her go through my splayed 
legs and out the other side.  I turned around and 
watched.  She broke the surface twenty feet beyond me, 
her short light hair hanging down in ringlets around 
her face.  

"Hey! Good show! I was wondering when you were coming 
out!" I said.  At this point I was relieved that my 
erection had expired.

"Oh, I didn't want to interrupt what was going on!" 
she teased.

"Oh yeah! That would have been a shame!" I joshed.

"I want to hear a full report when I get home," she 
said.  Mom swam out about fifteen feet farther, still 
in the waist deep water.  "Now, be still, I'm going to 
see if I can make it from here!"

"OK, go!"

She sank under the water and I stood again with my 
feet apart.  I saw the shadow of her form approaching 
me and realized she was right on mark.  She passed 
through my legs, but a second later I felt a yank on 
the waistband of my swimming trunks and I knew Mom was 
up to mischief.  My wide stance prevented them from 
coming below my crotch, but I was pushed off balance 
and went under.  Mom, darting about like a fish, was 
still after my trunks.  There was no use in fighting 
her; she was the superior swimmer, and she pulled my 
trunks down over my knees, and stood up.   I regained 
my footing and stood before her, masked by the water, 
looking at her, grinning, hands up in a defensive 
stance, knowing that if I reached to pull up the 
trunks, she'd be on me in a flash.  She feinted a 
lunge at me and I jumped aside and put my hands out. 

"Fooled ya!," she said.

She feinted several more grabs, then she lunged again, 
but this time it was no feint and she dived under the 
water and hooked onto my trunks with her fingers.  I 
went under with her and put up a token resistance, but 
let her jerk them down over my ankles and escape with 
her prize.

I came to the surface, sputtering, spewing and 
laughing.  Mom, ten feet beyond me, was shrieking with 
laughter.  "Now, you can go back to the beach!" she 
said.

"Mom!" I laughed, that's not fair, you swim like a 
fish!"

"That's right! I am a fish! And I'm going to get me a 
worm!" she said yelling a whisper at me.

"Mom!" I laughed.

She went under again and I backed up, covering my 
penis with my hand.  She swam by and grabbed at my 
wrist, tugging my hand away.  She surfaced ten feet 
away.  

"Humm," she said, "There's a weed-guard over that 
hook.  Don't want to get it hung up, huh?  You won't 
catch any fish that way!  And she sank beneath the 
surface again. 

The risqu, nature of the game had stirred my libido 
and brought my cock to quick attention.  I covered 
myself again and glanced at the beach and saw that 
Sonia had lain down on the beach chair, and was 
sunning.  She was on her back and her eyes were 
covered with her forearm.  

I looked back to the water and saw the long female 
torpedo coming at me.  This time, rather than a quick 
swim-by, Mom seized my wrist with one hand, pulled it 
away, and caught my penis with the other.  For a long 
moment she held the full length of my erect organ in 
her hand.  She surfaced and stood up, still holding 
it.  I didn't pull away. 

"God, Wayne!" she said in a shouting whisper, a smile 
on her face, "Where did my little boy go?"

I stood grinning, embarrassed and pleased at the same 
time.  My cock felt wonderful.  Regretfully, she let 
go.

"I haven't been a little boy for quite a while," I 
said.

"Did Sonia do that to you?" she asked.

"Not this one, Mom."

"Wayne!" Again, her mouth turned up in a wicked smile 
and her eyes flashed.  She brought my swimsuit up to 
the surface and handed it to me.  "Better take care of 
first things first.  Then put that on and come on 
out," she grinned.  Slowly she turned toward the 
beach, still smiling, and started swimming back in.  

I found that I could not take care of first things 
first, not with Mom out there on the beach, looking 
on.   With my mother's exit from the water I soon 
found I had no necessity to masturbate.  So, I simply 
slipped on the trunks and swam toward shore.

We three enjoyed the rest of the afternoon together 
and by the time we showered at Aunt Paula's, dressed 
and went out to eat, it was nine-thirty.  Mom kept the 
conversation lively between us three.  She frequently 
glanced at my crotch, which she observed with an 
amused, curious look.  I suppose she was wondering if 
it was her own recent grab that kept my jeans so 
tented, or if it was the lovely dark girl casting her 
exotic spell on me.   I would have been hard pressed 
to say which.  As we neared Toledo, I noticed Mom 
growing increasingly quiet.  By ten-thirty, when we 
dropped Sonia off at her home, all my mother could 
manage was a weak smile and a "Goodnight Sonia."

I walked Sonia to the door and told her good night.  I 
pulled her to me and kissed her on the forehead, which 
seem to please her immensely.  "Want to go out with me 
again sometime?" I asked.

"Oh please, Wayne Renfro, yes!  I enjoyed it very 
much," and she smacked me on the lips before she went 
in.
 
Mom and I drove the remaining three blocks home in 
silence.  When she pressed the button on our garage 
door opener, Dad's Jeep was parked on his side.  Mom 
blew out a long sigh and she slipped her car in beside 
it.  I know now that we both were sharing a sort 
disappointment to see his car there.  We had enjoyed 
ourselves with Sonia so much, and now coming back into 
Dad's gloomy presence cast a pall over sunny day.  Mom 
shut the garage door behind us even before we exited 
the car.  As if by mutual agreement, we both sat there 
glumly, dreading to go in, but not speaking of it.

"How much you want to bet that Mr. Excitement is 
already in bed?" Mom said.

I sat there with my head down, and didn't say 
anything.

"I tell you what, Wayne, I am getting fed up with 
this.  He doesn't do anything with his family."

I said nothing.

"You needed some fatherly advice the other day, and 
what did he do?  He shook his head and went to bed!"

"Well, he's awfully busy at JEEP, and--"

"Fuck JEEP!" Mom spat out, startling me, "And fuck 
Harold Renfro!" She stamped her foot on the 
floorboard.

I glanced at my mother to see her eyes tearful and 
red, and her forehead wrinkled in anger.  The moments 
dragged by.

I sat speechless and motionless, a little afraid.  
Suddenly, the timer snapped off light in the garage 
door opener.  Mom and I sat in total darkness.

I opened the car door on my side and the dome light 
came on.  

"Shut the door, Wayne."

I looked at Mom and saw the most serious look I have 
ever seen on her face before.  I closed the door and 
waited.  In a moment I felt her reach across my body 
and take my hand and pull me around so that I was 
facing her.  It was so desperately black inside, that 
I couldn't see her face.  Mom kept her right hand in 
mine and I felt her pull close to me.

"Wayne, I'm sorry, but that's the way I feel.  I never 
have any real conversation with your father.  He takes 
no interest in anything I do.  He never takes me out.  
He just leads his, whatever you call it, his 
existence."  Her "T" was vicious.  "And I lead mine, 
and that's it."  I felt her face close to mine.  
"You're really the only one I feel I can talk to.  If 
it weren't for you Wayne, I'd have nothing, no life at 
all!"

My mother let go of my hand and put her hands on my 
shoulders, I felt myself being pulled toward her, and 
hugged by her.  Her soft breasts pressed into my 
chest.  Her face was against mine, and I felt her 
tears wet my face.  

"Mom, please don't be unhappy." I said,  "Maybe you 
could talk to someone."

"Fuck it!  I don't want to talk to someone!"  Her 
hands were moving on my back.  

"Don't you want to try to..."

"All I want is you," she said.

"You know I'll always be here, Mom, but..."

Mom brought her hands up to my face, and cradled them 
and kissed me long on the lips.  "God, Wayne, I love 
you.  I don't know what I'd do without you."  She 
kissed me again.  These were not maternal kisses.

I encircled her back and held her close and she 
pressed her breasts into me tightly, her breathing 
deepening.  My genitals were filling with rich blood 
and I felt them tingling. "Mom..." I said in a broken 
voice.

My mother's tongue parted my lips and entered my 
mouth.  The experience was utterly incredible to me, 
and there in the dark, I could only interpret it as a 
sightless dream.  Her hand was over my hardening 
penis, kneading me and pressing me.  Then I felt her 
feeling for my zipper as she continued to plant open-
mouthed kisses all over my face.  All our movements 
were frantic and I was trembling uncontrollably as I 
reached to help her with my fly.  I had to straighten 
my body, and when I did, I heard and felt zipper 
clicking open. Mom inserted her hand into the gap and 
gripped my penis.  I was so charged with desire, I 
immediately shot my semen into the darkness and sobbed 
at the release.  I could not control my bucking but 
Mom held on as I continued to spasm semen into the 
car, and I suppose, onto her.  All this was done in 
total blackness, grappling madly with each other and 
kissing.  The whole experience was so agitating that I 
felt no deep pleasure, only a catharsis, as if some 
pain had suddenly ceased.

"It's all right baby, it's OK.  Everything is fine.  I 
love you, darling," Mom babbled.  "I had to touch you.  
Oh, darling you are so sweet.  Just hold me now and 
rest.  I love you darling.  I love you."

As my mother murmured to me in a low voice, she 
continued to kiss me and stroke my penis.  Yet she 
barely moved her hand.  I realized that I was half 
weeping, each breath catching in my throat, every 
exhalation audible.


And so, there we sat, my mother with her arm around my 
shoulders, pulling me into her; fingers on my 
softening cock but not letting go.  I must have slept, 
because I was startled when she whispered in my ear.  

"Wake up darling, let's go in."

In a daze, I slid out of the Jeep, my legs trembling.  
I sensed that we left a car door open.  Its dome light 
was our only illumination as we made our way into the 
house.  The next thing I knew was that I was sitting 
in the kitchen in a chair and Mom had reentered from 
the hallway.  She bent over me and whispered.  "Wayne, 
darling, there's hot water in the bathtub.  Go and 
take a bath."

My next realization was the hot water enveloping me 
and relaxing me.  The oversized tub was full and I 
looked down at my outstretched feet and felt myself 
reviving.  

Then, I was sitting up in the tub and Mom was washing 
my back.  Then she washed my whole body, then rinsing 
soaping and fondling my genitals.  She rinsed me, 
helped me out of the tub, sat me on the toilet seat 
and dried me.

Then I was lying in my bed, warm and dry, covered up 
to my neck.  My mother was kneeling beside me, kissing 
my face and saying, "Don't worry about anything Wayne.  
Don't pay any attention to what I said.  Everything is 
going to be OK."  Then I slept.

End of Part 3
Go to Part 4

OneGallus@yahoo.com

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