Tempting Bait

"Not me."

He looked down into her eyes before reading the rest of the note:

Hi, Joe:

I need a date for dinner tonight. I promise you the best seafood dinner in town, and there's no better entertainment than that which will follow—if you choose. Interested?

Madge

He looked at Cindy again, only to see her smile.

"Its from your mother. Dinner tonight. Why doesn't she take you?"

Slowly, and just as smoothly as her skin and body looked, the girl before him shook her head. "I went with her last time."

"Not good?"

"Fine, but I wouldn't be you."

Oh, crap! What now? he thought. "It would be okay with you?"

"Sure. Go!"

"Cindy?"

"Go, Joe. It's just a date. She hates to dine alone. Not good for a woman's ego."

No, he supposed not. "You're certain? Far as you're concerned?"

"Quite. Now, call her at work and tell her you will, okay? She's working some this morning so we can have another little pool party later before you two leave for the show and your dinner afterward. Her cell number's 993-9339."

Another pool party? With Cindy naked in the sun, looking oh so fine? Yeah, he could go for that!

And he wasn't disappointed. She looked so good he had difficulty concentrating on his hold- you-over slider Mrs. Newman grilled up for him. Like his steak at the previous pool party/barbeque, it was perfect—of course the view of thirty-three year old Madge Newman wearing much less than during the party before didn't hurt, either.

Cindy started off buff. By the time the sliders were gone, Madge Newman might as well have been, too. Somehow that woman—maybe it was just her perfectly executed flirt—looked as good as if she were naked. Her thong left nothing to imagination, and her scant upper emphasized her breasts which needed no emphasizing. When he looked at Cindy, then had his attention distracted by her mother, then looked back again, he nearly got whiplash.

Both women swam well; must have learned that in those far-off tropical places they'd lived. Maybe they learned their flirt techniques there, too. It mattered little; Joe just basked in the beauty surrounding him and dealt, somewhat awkwardly, with the fact his body enjoyed it, too.

Both women teased him, too, in and out of the pool. But this afternoon, Madge seemed to be the bigger tease. The thought flickered across his mind that Cindy might be losing interest in him, but when she smiled his way, that thought vanished in the apparent pleasure she exuded at just seeing him.

The show Madge took him to was a locally-written musical, put on by the town's Little Theatre group, backed by the local symphony orchestra. Joe did his best to enjoy the performance, although musicals were a treat for which he'd yet to learn deep appreciation. Like most musicals, the plot seemed contrived and just plain silly, but he did his best, and when Madge looked over and said, "We can go, if you wish," he shook his head.

As they left the theater with the end of the crowd, she took his arm as if to reinforce her appreciation of his indulgence. They passed a section of decorative mirrors in the lobby, where he caught their reflections. God, that woman—his date for tonight, could he believe it?—looked so good, like royalty, so poised, so elegant, so everything a man could want.

She squeezed his hand. "Look at me," she said nodding toward the wall, "the luckiest woman in the world. I'm with a real man. And he's gorgeous."

He blushed.

"No, I mean it," she said in a whisper that tugged at his ear. "What other woman here is on the arm of a stud like you?"

That made him blush worse.

"Come on, hurry up. Let's get to that restaurant where we will be alone."

She must have reserved that table. It was so far back in a dark corner he could have laid her right there and no one would have known—if they kept their voices down, which he knew would have posed a problem.

The food, which he ordered at her direction, was, as her invitation said, the best. All those things she'd offered for the barbeque were things he'd have chosen, but with its seafood, this restaurant surpassed those in a single leap. Her note also mentioned entertainment after, so surely she hadn't meant the musical. The hair on the back of his neck stood whenever he considered what she could have meant.

Her flirt level rose as dinner progressed. In movies he'd seen that old ploy where the flirty woman runs her toe up inside the man's pant-leg under the table. Well, she didn't do so, but she sat close enough she could have. Instead, she all but fed him, cutting his dinner for him and forking it to his mouth one patient bite at a time while she gazed into his eyes.

The longer this went on, the more he wished dinner were over and he could discover what the entertainment after was to be—although every minute that passed narrowed the options he anticipated choosing among.

As he downed the last bite of his flan, she gave him a moment, then turned to him and whispered, "Let's go, Joe. If we sit here much longer I'll let you get the better of my good manners and I'll rip your clothes off and make love to you right here."

Well, that made the narrowing range of entertainment after options pretty obvious. Before that sank in completely, she grabbed the bill, gathered her purse and shoulder wrap, and urged him toward their way out of that darkened corner. She must have pre-arranged the bill, because no waiter or anyone else appeared and fumbled with the bill she signed and laid on the head waiter's podium.

He held her car's door for her, then hustled around and nearly dove into the passenger's seat, jerking the door shut behind him. As he straightened up, she pulled him across the console and planted one of those kisses that Cindy used on him. So that's where she learned those!

But what about Cindy? Was he about to screw up the best sex he'd ever had by flirting with her mother? Family bonds can handle only so much, and between those two women, there was a lot to handle! And he sure didn't like the idea of losing one to gain the other, even if she was a great barbecuer and a great looking woman. Oh, well. Play the game as it unfolds!

They hustled into her house—trying, with a good bit of silliness, to keep quiet so as not to disturb Cindy—through the main room, and into a hall he just knew led to the master bedroom. Obviously none of the remaining evening was to be enjoyed in his rented room down in the basement!

Madge opened the bedroom door at the far end of the hall.

"Nice room," he said, thinking you could hold a small dance in there. A fancy, intimate dance.

"Be lots nicer if you were lying naked on my bed."

Oh!

"Let me use the bathroom first. I'm a mess already because of you. Just let me fix up a little so I'm not gross, okay?" she said and dived out of sight. He couldn't imagine her being gross in any way, but never argue about beauty with a beautiful woman, right?

Joe looked around the room. Look at that bed! Madge was slim and about 5-9", so maybe she liked having more than six inches above her head and below her feet while she slept. But the width! He'd gotten involved with a highschool basketball-playing classmate's bed and mattress purchase search, and remembered a King XL was 78 x 84 inches, but this bed must be at least a foot longer and a foot or two wider. Must take special linen, maybe from businesses that catered to professional basketball players?

The bathroom door clicked while he still looked around the room. Real paintings, not prints. Real paintings that suggested what he hoped Madge would want when she returned. Oh, man! His brain shuddered at the thought of what might happen, the rest of his body shuddered in anticipation of what he hoped would happen. Yeah, he was a mess, just the sort of mess a real woman would want her man's mind to be.

The door opened a crack and the woman, Madge Newman, peered through it into the room. Modest? Now? A woman who had all but assaulted him as they sat in Frank's Dockside finishing their dinners?

"Mrs. Newman? You okay?"

"Oh, Joe. I'm so scared."

"Why?" He was the one scared half out of his mind, worrying he might fail the upcoming manhood test.

"'Cause you're so young, and so handsome, and I have it on good authority ... so sexy? And I'm so old and ... everything"

"Mrs. Newman? I'm just a scared eighteen year old who's afraid he might not live up to your expectations."

"Not what I hear."

"Well, I'm still scared."

"Then maybe we should forget it. I mean, get to know each other better first. We can go out and have dinner again. You know, go do something else."

"If that's what you want, that's what we'll do. If it's not really what you want, then come out here so I can use the bathroom."

"Okay," she whispered from behind the door.

When she came out, she wore a terry bathrobe that hid the best of her. He did his impersonation of naked confidence and scampered to the bathroom. As he closed the door, he said back into the room, "Please turn out the lights, okay?"

When do-or-die time arrived, he cracked the door open. Thank god the lights were off and the room all but completely dark. He felt his way into the room, and after stumbling over his shoes, found the bed. Now, just to get in without chickening out! Just that quick, he was glad Madge Newman had such a large bed.

He found the covers' edges, folded them back. and slipped in. Oh, those were nice sheets; cool, crisp, smooth, must be that 400 thread-count fabric he kept hearing about in TV ads. He felt into the bed, and bumped Madge's arm.

"Sorry."

"Why, Joe? Don't you want to make love with me? All afternoon and all evening you been so nice, so considerate, so gentle. I want to, Joe, really I do. Please come over here and convince this old lady she still has what it takes to raise the flag of a good looking young man like you."

Her hand found him where he'd bumped her getting into bed. Her touch didn't go away, but caressed his forearm and moved up to his shoulder. Well, he didn't mind being young to her, one young enough to be her son with Cindy playing the part of more experienced sister—just so neither of them called him Joey.

"Honey?"

"Yes?"

"Can I suck you?"

"If you want ... I guess." He had to guess. His high school girlfriend would never have done that, so he had no idea how it felt. She'd barely let him touch her breasts, never her pussy or ass, other than through her jeans. His loss of virginity back then consisted of a few not very satisfying hand-jobs. But Cindy had certainly corrected that situation here lately, one hundred percent as Mother Nature had designed the human body for!

Madge turned around under the bedclothes. She found his penis and sucked it into her mouth. In the near-dark her head began the up and down motion that coincided with the suck and release he'd always anticipated. Wow! Cindy's pussy was great, but her mother's mouth ran it a 99-of -100 second place.

Before long, Madge finished him off, leaving him lax but not relaxed. His body still wanted more, the more that comes only from a long-building climax with Tab A inserted into Slot B with nothing separating the participating parties. Yes, he prayed she was on BC so they could do that.

"That good?" she said, crawling up so she faced him.

He nodded. Was he about to say anything about the lingering tension in his body?

"I hope you like tits. Next time you want to fuck my titties?"

Sounded good to him, although he had no idea what that would feel like, or if it would match or surpass what she'd just done. So he nodded again and smiled.

"Good. I like doing that." After pointedly swallowing, she kissed him on the cheek. "I should get some water to rinse my mouth." With that she bounded out of bed, he heard the water run in the vanity sink, and in a moment she was back.

"There," she said. "I'm all kissable again."

Joe might have dozed, he might not have, but the whole next hour she played with his spent penis while he lay there in a mood to just accept whatever came his way.

"Oooh, that's good," she whispered.

That brought him conscious enough to mumble, "Huh?"

"You're coming around. Cindy said you recover fast."

He sure didn't feel recovered, not yet. Madge played with the end of him, gently raking her fingers across its tip, rubbing his frenulum with a circular motion, then compressing his penile head between two fingers. He shuddered.

"Don't like?"

"Too much, yet."

"Good. Then I'll give you just a little to keep you coming my way."

Coming her way? Hadn't he just come in her beautiful mouth? Oh, well. What she was doing sure felt good, even if it threatened to over-excite him.

"I'm getting to you, Joe. You'll be wanting my titties wrapped around it in just a few minutes, I know you will." With that boast, she squeezed his whole shaft and gave it a couple firm jacks that pressed his skin solidly against his penile base and stretched his penis's shaft skin tight so the whole assemblage felt like it was clamped inside a tight vagina.

"Madge, please! Give me a minute or two to just relax."

"No way, Honey. No way!"

Honey? Now that was new! "Please?"

"No, no. It's time for some tittie fucking, right now. Come over here, climb on me, and let's see how that beautiful penis of your fits between my breasts." She didn't wait for him to do the moving; amazing how a woman could slide under him and toward his feet, so in a few seconds, her breasts cradled his urgent erection.

"Good. Now slow and easy, and let me enjoy this. It's like your dick wants to suck my titties. Oooh, I like that!"

He liked it, too.

"You know?" she said, her voice muffled by the fact her face was buried halfway down the inside length of his chest. "I like looking up at you like this."

Why?

"It looks like any moment you might pull a quick shift on me and shove that very suckable dick of yours back down my throat."

"Um."

"Don't like that idea?"

"Don't want to do anything you don't want."

"You think I don't want that?"

"Ma'am?"

"Joe? You just do everything you ever heard of a man doing to a woman. I'll let you know if anything gets out of hand."

The very enjoyable sensation of her breast skin sliding along his penis took his mind off everything that might go wrong. God, that was nice!

"You're smiling," Madge said.

"I suppose so. That feels really nice. You like it, too?"

"You do that for about an hour and I'll love you forever."

He wasn't sure about forever, but at this point, he liked the general idea and all the details that went with it so far.

"Here," she said as she shoved her breasts harder against his penis. "Fuck 'em harder. You know, shove your dick up so it touches my chin every stroke."

He did his best, she moaned, then tipped her head so his tip went between her lips every stroke.

***

When he awoke the next morning, the clock next to his side of Madge's bed said 5:30. His body told him although it had been a short night, it couldn't imagine anything being more restful.

"Oh, Honey," she whispered. "You're awake."

"Barely."

"Cindy'll cook breakfast for you, so we got until seven to do whatever we want before she feeds you and you two go off to class."

Sure. What could he want this morning, he being in the condition she'd left him?

"I sure feel good, Joe." With that she stretched up and kissed him on the neck just below his ear. "Thanks."

And thank you, Mrs. Newman!

Her hand searched the closest reaches of his body, found his groin, and gave it a gentle brush.

"Oh, ready again?"

"Don't know. I feel so relaxed I can't believe it."

"Well, your body isn't completely relaxed, that's for certain." She scooped up his genitals in a way that left his erect penis sticking out between her thumb and the side of her palm. The squeeze she put on it brought that fact home.

"So," she said softly. "We only got to intermission last night. You ready for Act III? Or you want to go back for a replay of Acts I and II?"

Acts I and II blended together so well he had difficulty remembering where one ended and the other began. Decision time—if he only had enough strength. "Act Three, I guess."

"Good. I think I laid awake all night anticipating your next move."

He certainly hadn't laid awake. Mrs. Newman had seen to that!

"So, Joe, imagine you're the screenwriter and you're writing this scene. What would you have us do?" Her hand on his body gave him several heavily hinted options. He took the least physically demanding: he rolled over and kissed her.

"Good start. What now?"

"Then I'd bring my hand up, find those beautiful breasts you yours, give them a good rub each, then kiss the cleavage between them."

"Good. Good. Would you lick between them? And work clear up to my neck?"

He hadn't yet gotten that far in his imagining, but why not? He concluded with another kiss, this one turned her face to the other side and he kissed that ear.

She moaned. Good audience involvement!

"Next? The leading lady would like you to put her vulva into the act."

"Oh?"

"You got a different idea?"

He shook his head, reluctant to take the next step.

"Joe? You're writing this. You can make it Disney or depraved or anything in between, so come on. You're driving me nuts."

He cupped her mound as he had Cindy's night before last, hoping like mother like daughter applied.

"Oh!"

"Too much?"

"Oh, no, Joe. Even more is better. It's been years ...!"

"Really?"

"Long time between performances. I just hope I can remember my part."

But hadn't Cindy said, when he called the first time, they'd earlier had a different renter? Last year? Well, never argue with a woman who you're in bed with, hoping for your plot's climax. Maybe this other guy hadn't worked out, but Joe sure didn't want to be the didn't work out guy this time around.

"Madge?"

"Yes, Joe?"

"Must not be too long, You're remembering your part very well."

"Oh, I hope so. I was so afraid I'd forgotten in ten years."

"Ten years? What happened to the guy Cindy mentioned when I called, you know, me being a boy and renting the room?"

"What did she say?"

"Nothing except me being a boy and renting was no problem."

"So? She was right, yes?"

I nodded, still skeptical.

"And if you're wondering about him, don't." The way she said that relegated whoever he'd been to the dust heap of history. "Now it's just you and me and Cindy."

Well, that was the sort of promise he wanted to hear.

***

"Joe, Honey?"

"Cindy?" he said as she played with him under the covers. He'd have been the first to admit being in no mood for a discussion—or much else other than relaxation. Once she got him off three times in an evening, he was, as they say, completely done in.

"Mom and I think it's time we upped the ante."

"Upped the ante?" He had no ante left to up! What the hell did she mean?

"We think we should all play together, most of the time. All three of us? Sound good to you?"

"I don't ..."

"Sure you can. Look. You're already recovering and it's only been an hour. You'll do great. Even better than great ... I think!"

"I ..."

"Please Joe? Please for Momma and me? It's such a waste of time otherwise. You think just because you and Momma are together, I don't want you, too? And you think when you're buried hilt deep on me, Momma isn't in her room wanting you?"

"But?"

"I promise you'll like us," she said, a coy flirt in her tone. "I promise you'll like us even better together."

"But, Cindy. I ...?"

"Sure, Joe. Or can I call you Joey, now?"