oops

         I’m in love with my mother’s friend.  I’m in lust with my mother’s friend.  One of those two statements is true.  Possibly both of those two statements are true.  Either way, I’ve been thinking about her for six years now.  She was my first nocturnal emission.  Then she was my second nocturnal emission, and then the third, and so forth and so on until I started using my hand.  That’s when my left hand became Ms. Shankle, or Keri, if you will.  Well, about ninety percent of the time. 
         Don’t get me wrong.  I’ve had girlfriends, plenty of them.  I’ve been fucking since I was fifteen.  I’m a man, now.  That’s when the real problem started.  I turned eighteen last weekend, and I went full on after her.  I got hammered, made a move and tried to kiss her. 
         Up until then, I’ve let my body do the work.  I walk around our apartment in my underwear, but when Ms. Shankle’s around, I’ll walk around my room nude with the door ajar.  She’s caught several glimpses of me in the doorway.  Occasionally, I’ll get ballsy enough to stroll from the restroom to my bedroom nude, often when I hear her ascending the stairs to use said restroom.  Lots of time’s she’ll make eye contact.  A few times, she’s grinned.  It’s a game, we play – the oops, I didn’t see you there, game.   
         The nice part of living in an apartment complex is your neighbor is two feet away, literally, and she was always around taking the given peeks.  It’s also the sucky part of living in an apartment complex.  I marched right over there, or should I say staggered, at two in the morning.  I proceeded to wake her up, show her my abs, grope her bottom and stuff my soaked in alcohol tongue into her mouth.  Now, I see her every day.  I feel like an asshole.  She hasn’t told mom, yet.   
         I haven’t apologized, yet.  I’m get so ashamed when I see her, I just hide.  Unfortunately, there are higher powers, or slacker powers at work.  Mom forgot to pay the electric bill, and our power has been turned off for who knows how long.  We’re all going over there in a couple minutes, me, my eighteen-month-old brother, Jonas, and my mother.
         My mom’s not as loosey-goosey as she may sound, and Keri will vouch.  She’s only had a couple moments of weakness, and two of them have resulted in this guy, and my eighteen-month-old brother, Jonas.  She’s yet to wed either a moment of weakness or a boyfriend.  Still, she’s a hell of a mom.  She keeps us fed, makes sure the homework is done and brings home incredibly hot female friends in their late thirties. 
         “Dex!  You ready?”  I’m not.
         “Yah, I’ll be right down.”  I grab my backpack with my clothes for school tomorrow, four more weeks until graduation. 
         Reluctantly, I join Mom and Jonas in front of Ms. Shankle’s door.  “Well…,” mom sounds agitated, “ring the bell.  I’m holding your brother.”  I do as instructed.  Ms. Shankle opens the door.  Her brunette hair is pulled back into a pony tail.  She’s wearing gray sweats.  She avoids eye contact with me. 
         “Hey!  Come on in,” she sounds cheery, but refuses to look at me.  She addresses me while paying attention to the baby, “Dex, you can take the guest room.  Your mom, the baby and I will share.”  She’s afraid I’ll attack her in her sleep.  I mean, mom and the baby share a room at home, but that’s because she has to be there to feed him in case he wakes up at night.  Ms. Shankle’s afraid of me now.  I’m such an asshole.  I have to apologize to her.
         “Ok,” I mumble and run my stuff up to the guest room and shut the door.  I’m such an asshole.  This room is ridiculously hot.  I feel the walls closing in all around me.  I turn on the ceiling fan.  I jack up her standing fan to high and crack open the windows.  It’s not enough.  I’m still sweating.  I strip off everything but the boxers.  I lie down on the bed.  I start to relax.
         I hear the front door close.  I slip out of bed and peer out the window.  I didn’t see anything.  I open the guest room door and look out into the hallway.  Ms. Shankle ascends the stairs and turns the corner.  I’m caught in my shorts.  We’ve had this moment many times prior, but this feels much more awkward.  “Your mom forgot her pacifier.”  She’s smiling at me.  What does that mean?
         “Oh, cool, um would it be ok, if I were to shower?  I’m sweating my ass off,” I inform her.
         “It looks fine to me,” she jests.  I’m confused, and it must show.  She clarifies, “Yes, you can take a shower.  Towels are in the linen closet.”  Her index finger shows me the way as if I’m not aware of the linen closet, and was she hitting on me?
         “Oh, thanks.”  I go in and shut the door.  I turn on the shower and climb into the tub.  I lather up with her puff and body wash.  Her scent arouses me, and I realize I’m hard. 
         Then, I hear the door.  Ms. Shankle’s inside the bathroom.  “That was your mom,” she informs me, although, I didn’t hear any phone ring.  “False alarm, power is back on.” 
         “Oh, ok, I’ll head back over when I’m done.  I just have to rinse.”  I step under the shower head.
         “I told her you were asleep,” she says.  She lied to my mom.  The shampoo rinses from my head, and I poke it out through the curtain.  It’s dripping onto her floor mat.  Ms. Shankle’s hair has been pulled up into a sultry bun.  She’s wearing a black baby doll, with matching robe and heels.  “All right, boy, skewer me.  I’ve dropped my defenses, I’m an easy victim.  Why, by now, your arrows practically know their own way to the target and feel less at home in their quiver than in me.” 
         “Goddamn, that was hot,” I point out the obvious.  She laughs and walks over to the sink.  She grabs my towel.  She’s waiting for me to get out of the shower.  I shut the curtain, finish rinsing my crack and sack and shut off the water.  I wait a second for my erection to half deflate before opening the curtain. 
         Ms. Shankle holds open the towel.  I step down onto her floor mat, and she wraps me up like a cocoon.  She kisses me.  She holds me close and kisses me long and hard.  She holds onto my lip with her teeth before dropping to her knees.  She begins drying my legs and genitals.  She’s reaches around to the other side and dries off my backside.  She’s back to her feet and drying off my chest.  She kisses me, again.  Her tongue is soft.  I like it.  I pick Keri up and carry her off to bed.  She dries my head and tosses away the towel. 
         I lie Keri down and remove her heels.  Her feet toy with my penis, as she tosses aside her robe.  I caress and rub her thighs, until she parts them.  I slip up in between her legs, and lean in for a kiss.  She’s bottomless, so I just slide the baby doll up an inch or two.  I swirl my tongue around her clit, a move I’ve seen done, but have yet to attempt.  I must be doing something right.  She’s wiggling and her respiratory rate increases.  She grabs my hair and closes her thighs around my ears.  Then I feel it.  Her clit throbs and she has an orgasm. 
         She lets go of my head and pulls me to her.  I pepper her thighs, and belly with kisses as I slide the baby doll up further, and make my way up to her breasts.  I slip the baby doll down, this time, exposing her tiny pink nipples.  They’re softening.  I kiss and lick them until they’re erect, and then I find Keri’s lips, finally.  She rolls me onto my back.  “That was fun, and we have all night.”  Keri throws her legs around my head and slips me into her mouth.  She toys with my balls, while I flick my tongue at her clit. 
         Finally she spins around and slips me inside her.  “Wow, you can do that all night, can’t ya?”
         “For you, I can,” I admit.  She leans in and we make out while we grind together.  I roll her over onto her back.  She holds me close and I cum inside of her.  She holds onto me, until I slip out of her.  I roll over onto my back.  She leans into my chest, and I hold her close.  “So, I just want to apologize for the other night.”
         Keri laughs and dismisses it lighheartedly, “Water under the bridge.”
         “Oh, good, I mean things got weird, after you rejected me…,” she interrupts me.
         “I didn’t reject you.”
         I was pretty hammered, so I start to realize, I'm not exactly sure what happened.  “You didn’t?”
         “No."  She laughs and slaps my penis playfully before explaining, “I was worried someone might have seen, but I don’t think anybody did.  No, you just got sick, and ran home to puke.”
         “Oh, shit!”  She laughed.  The nice about us both being in our sexual prime is you don’t have to wait very long for either of us to be ready to go, again.   
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