This is the last chapter in this story. It’s come full circle and would have to branch out in ways that don’t seem to me to fit the characters. So, good luck to them all!

Tom Is Launched

It’s four o’clock on a late September afternoon and I’m lying on the massage table in Karen Wollinski’s just-finished basement suite waiting for the massage that Karen had promised me a few weeks ago. She’s in the bathroom getting changed. I’m naked on the table, face down, with a towel over my butt.

The remodeling went really well. Karen turned out to be quite the designer and she is very proud of the way it turned out. Even Walter likes it. He took a tour once when we were finishing the laminate flooring and said it looked good. He seemed relieved not to have to be concerned about what she was doing. From now on she could be downstairs in her own space and he could go about his business of watching the golf channel on TV or reading golf magazines uninterrupted.

During the two weeks it took us to do the finishing work Karen and I got to know each other a lot better. We took several trips to the local Lowe’s and Home Depot to check on bath fixtures and paint, laminate, window coverings, ceiling tiles, and furniture, bringing back samples to lay on the floor or color swatches to hold up to the walls.

I got to like her a lot. She is, as I’m happy to notice every time I’m with her, easy to look at with her pretty face and quick smile that she has relaxed enough around me to show regularly, a signal of trust, it seemed to me. She has a full mouth and short brown hair that always has a luster to it, and attentive hazel eyes whose color appears to vary slightly depending on the clothes she has on. And her medium height easily carries her great figure with her full tits and terrific ass. She seemed eager to have a friend she could share her real thoughts with and I was happy to have her as one. She told me some about her past and a little bit about her marriage to Walter. I was careful not to be pushy but she told me enough to conclude that their lives are now pretty much separate.

That’s also what I came to understand from remarks Karen would make occasionally whenever Walter would ask for something, usually calling down the stairs for her to make him something or get him something or tell him where something was that he had misplaced. I was surprised that she always seemed to know where he should look, and that, she said, was because through the years she had been the observant one and had learned Walter’s habits so well that she knew him better than he knew himself.

Karen said with a tone of resignation that she realized that the ties that keep many married couples close at the beginning come almost completely unraveled over time but a lot of these couples, for whatever reasons, stay married and adopt a brother/sister kind of limited-affection relationship without anything else. She made it sound as if this had happened to her and Walter and, without the will to fight it anymore, by degrees they let the marriage settle into a companionship of convenience–someone to go with to parties with their equally bored friends (as Karen put it) or to spend a weekend at one of Walter’s golf course destinations. It was an arrangement she didn’t seem happy about but it made it easier for her to put up with him, to make him his lunch or tell him where his reading glasses were. I didn’t say anything but it seemed to me that settling for that kind of a boring grind was a scary compromise, one I hoped would never happen to me.

“Did you know, Tommy, that there are golf novels–novels that revolve around the golf scene?” Karen was telling me this as we were driving to Lowe’s one day. “I should know. I scour book sites searching for them. I never would have imagined that. But they turn out to be the usual stuff. They just happen at golf clubs to golfers who talk about golf while they are playing golf or not playing golf, sitting in the restaurant or at the bar, drinking and talking about the round of golf they just played or are waiting to play when their tee time comes up, and these people are screwing their wives or each other’s wives or girlfriends, or robbing or being robbed, or cheating at golf, or murdering, or blackmailing, or whatever the plot calls for. They keep Walter happy.”

“I didn’t know he was a reader.”

“Right now he’s planning a European trip. He wants to play the famous courses in Ireland, then Britain and then the continent. That won’t happen until spring but Walter is already busy planning. I’m still undecided whether to go with him. I really don’t want to.”

There was some touching, just casual at first, in the car. For example, if she wanted to point something out or if she was emphasizing something she was talking about she would reach over to touch my arm, and then, gradually, it became more explicit and intentional on my part as well as hers when it became clear to both of us that there was a mutual attraction illegal bahis and our polite and respectful caution began to fade. We could both relax and feel comfortable about letting our interest show. Once when she had, at last, decided on the laminate color and wall paint shade she yelled “Hooray!” and put her arms around me and hugged me tight. Right there in the aisle at Lowe’s. I held her close and even lifted her off the ground and twirled her around. We were both laughing and relieved that the choosing was over.

And there is always that knowledge that she has seen me fucking mom, mom bent over the breakfast table, naked, and me behind her, holding her hips, thrusting in and out, then looking up and seeing Karen watching from her deck, and I didn’t stop because I couldn’t stop. And later she saw me smiling and waggling my cock at her after mom had gone upstairs and I had come back to the table to finish clearing it. Showing off. I was still embarrassed about that. We talked about that whole scene once a while back, but, still, the images linger and I just imagine it is always more or less in her mind as her awareness of it is in mine.

When we were in the basement doing the work she would dress in shorts and a shirt, sometimes with the tails tied at her belly, and no bra. She looked awfully good with her full tits moving easily under the fabric. I was usually in a t-shirt and shorts. At first we were eyeing and circling each other, getting this thing or that while we worked, always conscious of where the other one was. Then, when we were installing the ceiling tiles, instead of continuing with the ladder that she was using and having to move it around all the time she asked if she could just sit on my shoulders, a leg on each one, and I said sure. It was a sensible way to go about it.

She would climb the ladder a few steps and I would step up to it, right behind her. I would bend my head down between her legs and she would sit on my shoulders and then, with both of us laughing and joking, I would stand and maneuver myself underneath her, pushing up on her bottom so that I could turn to get her where we wanted, with my head facing her, almost in her crotch.

She said this position would make it easier for me to look up and get her to the right spot since I could tip my head back without bumping into her stomach. It also gave me a good look at her tits, her full braless tits, through the gaps in her shirt where sometimes buttons had come undone. She put a supply of tiles in a bag that she had me wear on my back so I could walk from place to place without having to let her down quite so often to get more.

When she was reaching for them her breasts would press against my face and my mouth was actually at her crotch, my hands on her bottom, steadying her. Sometimes she had to reach a little to set the tiles in place and when she did it made her sort of rub her front against my face. And one time when her front was actually brushing my face I noticed that not one but two buttons on her shorts had come open and, feeling bold, I stuck my tongue in there, on her pussy, over her panties. I could feel the slight spring of her patch through the thin fabric.

“Tommy, stop it!” She said, laughing, slapping my head playfully with one hand. “I mean, don’t you think that is a just a little bit flagrant?” Her other hand was on the back of my head, steadying herself. She was still laughing. “I have never had a man go down on me while I was installing ceiling tiles,” she said. “I think that is just really very, very forward of you, Tommy. I mean, I can hardly think of anything MORE forward than that.” But she didn’t pull away and was rocking a little into me, as if I was a camel, pretending the work made her do it.

“I admit it,” I said. “I am very, very forward. It just seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do” My hands were on her cheeks, and I was moving them around, pretending to get a more secure grip, trying to be helpful, to stabilize her. I could feel the soft flesh through the thin cotton shorts and I could smell her musk.

“Gentlemanly!” She huffed, but she was still laughing.

When she needed to get down she would swing one leg off my shoulder and then with awkward grappling movements I would hold her while she swung the other off, but I pretended to be overly clumsy getting her down and my hands went everywhere, on her arms and sides, her thighs, under her, cupping her pussy, and once when I went to put her down my hands ended up over her breasts and I let them stay there, and even gave them a small squeeze and she didn’t pull away.

Karen was still getting ready in her new bathroom. It has the soaking tub she wanted. She also has a nice bedroom with two windows, one added on the side and one that looks out to the patio and back yard. The massage table, a substantial one, is in the main room that she painted a cool shade of soft yellow with a honey-brown laminate for the floor. She added a propane fireplace in the illegal bahis siteleri corner between the side window that faced our property and the slider that opened to the patio, something that just about broke the budget but not quite. There was room for a cabinet in one corner that held a microwave and mini-refrigerator. A few small area rugs, a comfortable chair, an oval coffee table, and a two-person sofa with end tables, all nicely coordinated in gray with blue cushions for the sofa, combined to pull everything together and create a relaxing room for her and her customers. She is thinking of adding a TV but hasn’t yet. There is even a rack, foldable, for their clothes. It was holding mine now.

I was listening to the soft music from one of those Bose radio/cd players that can fill a room, making it seem like there are speakers everywhere. Amazing the quality of sound that comes out of something so small, I was thinking, when Karen came out of the bathroom.

I lifted my head from the doughnut cushion and looked up at her. She was dressed in a white terry-cloth bathrobe and slippers and she had a big smile on her face. “So…..ready, Tom?” she asked. I smiled back and told her I was.

“This is going to be fun,” she said, as she poured some of the oil she had already warmed in the microwave on my back and got right to it, her hands going up and down from my neck to the small of my back in slow, leisurely strokes. “Your skin feels good, Tom. I’m glad we’re doing this. Getting your first massage from me. A windup to all the work we’ve done. I haven’t had so much fun in a long time.”

“I’m a little nervous. My first time, but it feels great,” was all I could manage, my head back down in the doughnut.

“There’s nothing quite like being touched,” she said. “Nothing. I love it. Just relax and concentrate on my hands. I’ll be quiet. Let me put you under my spell.”

“I’m relaxing and I think I’ve been under your spell for a while, ” I said, but my mind was already drifting away from Karen’s hands to mom’s skin, early this morning, when I was straddling her, caressing her breasts, pulling them up by her nipples, leaning down to kiss and suck them. She was looking up at me, her eyes all smoky, one hand stroking my cock.

“You going to fuck me, baby? Like I want?”

“Would you mind if I go down on you first?”

“Mind? Like…when?” she said, and reached out to push some on my shoulders. I worked my way down to her belly, then to the top of her pussy, my lips and hands to her thighs, up and down her inner thighs, and back to her pussy. My fingers opened her lips and I moved my tongue there, sliding it very gradually up one side, pausing at the top, up a little higher to her little nub, circling the tip around it, round and round. Mom shifted her hips to follow it, lifting herself, moaning. “That’s just perfect, honey. Your tongue…on it, please…” while she sighed, her hands in my hair, her legs open wide, lifting to meet my mouth. “Tommy, it’s on fire.” My tongue glided up one side and down the other, all around her clit, flicking the tip over it, feeling her wetness, nuzzling my nose in her hair, smelling her scent. She shifted her hips, chasing the tip, wanting it on her clit, moving to meet it. “Stop teasing baby. Lick it. Kiss it. Please, stop being mean to me!” I put my mouth on her button. It was jutting out, begging to be touched, and I pulled it into my mouth with my lips, sucking it in my mouth, flicking my tongue tip over it and she exploded, bucking her hips up to my face, groaning “Ooooo!!,” her fists banging the top of my head.

“You have a killer tongue, you hot fucker…” She was still trembling. “Look what you have done to me. All this very bad language that I never used to use. You are bringing out the worst in me. I’ve never felt so…I don’t know…I can’t think of the word…”

“Decadent?…Depraved?…let’s see, how about…”

“Stop! OK… Decadent.”

I had moved up to kiss her and was moving my cock up and down over her pussy, feeling her bush tickling the underside of my cock and balls, squeezing her breasts. “I want to see you even nastier, mom.”

“Tommy, fuck me, baby…give it to me,” she said. “I want! Please!”

I complied. I moved my cockhead to her opening and slipped in easy as pie, entering her smooth channel, starting a steady pumping. “We make a good fit, mom.”

“We sure do. Yes, that’s it, baby. Just like momma wants. Oooo, Tommy..”

“I love driving you nuts, mom…”

Karen moved around in front and started on my shoulders and arms. She had been in business just a few weeks and already had several clients lined up, keeping her busy for a part of most days, she said. Some were saying they would be regulars. She was already getting referrals.

“So how’s things with your mom?”

“Good, real good.”

Mom said, “Harder honey. Make me gasp, baby.” So I did and started pumping harder, harder, faster, moving my hands under canlı bahis siteleri her to her back, then one hand down to her bottom, pulling her to me while I stroked her. She was rubbing my back. “Just like that, Tommy. Nice…nice…”

“I want to cum, mom.”

“Yes please do. I’m almost there.”

I speeded up and lost myself in her flesh, her yielding womanly flesh and my body took over. I climbed to orgasm and shot inside her, one pulse after another and I heard her moan as she reached hers too.

“Oooo Tommy, that was so wonderful…”

“I love fucking you, mom.”

“Oh, yes, Tommy, yes, I love it too!”

I could feel the terry cloth of her robe on my hair as Karen leaned over me, concentrating on my shoulders, neck and arms, and then moving her open hands with their probing fingers down my back in a smooth up and down gliding that didn’t stop. I was more and more relaxed, sinking into the sheet on the table. I thought I could smell a little of her musk over her perfume as she leaned forward and I tipped my head up just enough to see her, her pussy about eye level, just behind the robe . Her pussy, I thought, so often just inches away.

Karen moved to the side and started on my legs, her hands moving from my foot to my calf to my thigh and to my cheek, one leg, then the other, up and down, hands always in motion. The towel was still over my butt but had moved up. “Can I get rid of this?” she asked, tugging at the towel. I said sure. The towel was off. I heard it plop when it hit the floor.

“You look good, Tom, Such a nice back and legs, and”–she slapped it–“nice butt,” she said.

“Thank you, ma’am.” When she reached my thighs again I opened my legs for her.

“Have some tension there?

“Yeah, they’re pretty tight.”

“They’ll need some special attention,” and she want to work, her hands resuming their journey up and down my thighs, up to my butt, one hand over one cheek and the other inside one thigh, moving around in circles, moving in between, with her fingernails scraping my balls. She stepped around the table to the other side keeping her fingers of one hand on my back and did the same with the other leg.

I liked the quiet with only the low music and the soft sound of her hands and occasional rustle of her robe breaking the silence.

“This feels fantastic, Karen. I had no idea…”

“I love the feel of your skin, Tommy,” she said. “And you know, guys sometimes tell a girl she smells good. That is a good thing to tell a girl, by the way, if you didn’t already know. Well, you smell good to me, too.”

She kept moving her hands around on my butt and thighs. I had opened my legs some more for her. “You don’t mind, do you? I really like touching you like this. I’m going to be insulted if I don’t make you hard,” she said.

“I could get used to this,” I said.

“Me too. Kinda personal, though.”

“You already know a lot about me, Karen.”

“I suppose I do. All good things, too.”

“I’m hard, Karen.”

“Cool. I’m doing my job.”

“You mean driving your customers nuts?”

“What do you mean? Like I turn them on on purpose?” I could hear the smile in her voice. “For your information, Tommy” she said in a low, slow, sexy voice, her hands still busy, “I am a proper masseuse, employing the extensive muscle relaxation techniques I learned through a comprehensive study of anatomy.” Her hands and her wonderful fingers were working my thighs and bottom. “This is designed to make one aware of one’s body in a way one isn’t normally. It is therapeutic in that it reminds us of our bodies and how we take our bodies for granted. Ignore them when they are functioning well. Look how we cover ourselves up with clothes.” This was play-talking, as if I needed some basic instruction. “Set decoration for the body. Hiding our shame. Like tattoos but not permanent. Trying to mask our animal nature with artwork.” “That’s what they said in your classes?”

“Yes. Pretty good, eh?” Her voice had perked up.

“Well, clothes keep us warm.”

“Oh, god, yes, I guess they do…and when they come off we get hot.”

“You have unmasked me. You are seeing my animal nature. My nude and lewd animal nature.”

“For special clients, I like to do that.”

I thought of Jane’s nude body when I went over to her place two days ago. I let myself in with the key she had given me. When I heard the shower running, I went into her bedroom and took off my clothes, then walked almost on tip-toe to the bathroom. She was humming something. I could see her body behind the semi-opaque shower curtain, her hands busy soaping herself. I was already hard.

“Pizza man!” I called out and pulled the curtain open. She turned to look, dropping into the crouch, knees together, one hand over her pussy, the other across her breasts. “Jesus Christ! Tommy! You scared me half to death!” she said.

“I got the hot cock special for you, lady,” I said.

“Get in here!” She reached out and grabbed my cock, tugging me into the shower. “Very funny.”

“How you doing, beautiful?” I backed her into the wall and kissed her, pressing my hard-on against her, pulling her wet soapy body to mine, hands moving up to cup her breasts.



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