"Wanna go out for lunch?" I asked.
Adam didn't answer immediately, maybe thinking over his answer but more probably still too deep in the throes of post-orgasmic bliss and getting over the earlier sight of me on my knees. I didn't blame him. His introduction to women and sex had started with a whole lot of filth - something most guys don't experience right from the get go. His stars had aligned such that, whether of his own accord or through sheer luck, the first woman he slept with, his mother's best friend, just happened to be absolutely filthy in bed.
A moment later he finally answered.
"Sure."
The sudden proposition did its job in clearing the room of the temporary awkwardness that had set in. That said, regardless of us going out, I needed another shower. I turned towards the bathroom, making my way to the door. It was a sight Adam still needed some getting used to - watching the sleek, long back and massive, swaying ass of his mother's best friend in all its naked glory just casually trotting right in front of him. I reached the bathroom door, turning my head to find him starstruck, his gaze entirely focused on my rear.
I held back a giggle. All that sex and he was still obsessed.
I made my way inside, starting up the shower. By the time I came back out, Adam was no longer in the room. It was sunny out, so I went through my suitcase and picked out a yellow demi bra and thong, before throwing on a cute, yellow sundress to match. Adjusting the straps over my shoulders, I took a glance at myself in the mirror, noticing the dress to reveal a modest but not provocative amount of cleavage. If the amount were provocative I would have considered changing dresses, I didn't want more sex to be the only thing clouding Adam's mind throughout our lunch. The realization that considering his age, the idea was a pointless one, however, didn't take too long to settle in.
I'd taken a seat and was doing my hair near the dresser when Adam walked back in. He was wearing a casual T-shirt and shorts, his hair still a mild amount wet from what I assumed was a shower. He looked cute, standing at the doorway and watching me apply the final touches to my hair. Such sweetness demanded teasing.
"Where'd you go?" I asked, surveying myself in the mirror a last time.
"I was taking a shower and getting ready." Adam replied.
I looked at him, got up, and walked closer till my breasts just about made contact with his chest.
"You could have showered with me." I spoke breathily, looking him directly in the eyes.
I saw his cheeks flush a bit, frozen still where he stood. His gaze at first was locked onto mine, before he let it slide south to find the soft, tantalizing lobes of the modest cleavage my sundress revealed. He brought his eyes back up, and I heard him gulp.
"I'll, uhh, remember that..." He finally replied. "... Next time."
All that hard, sweaty sex and the anxiety was still palpable in his voice. It was so fucking cute.
"Good." I decided to end my tyranny, and planted a quick peck on his lips before pulling away.
We went out for lunch to one of my favorite Italian places. Under ordinary circumstances, going out with your best friend's son would fall under the guise of normal more often than not, and quite easily at that. But going out right after he fucked you in his mother's bed and filled your mouth with what could only be a glass-full of his white, sticky swimmers? Not as much, and the guilt of what I was doing slowly started to creep back in.
Despite that gradually regrowing guilt, Adam and I still managed to have a great time. Part of it was the fact that he didn't bring up or talk about anything sexual in nature, or discuss our relationship and what it meant heading into the future. I didn't know if I was ready to have that conversation just yet, and the lack of it helped keep the guilt from growing at any faster a rate than it already was. The other part was that so far I'd always spent time with Adam under the notion that he was my best friend's son, and so that had always placed boundaries on the sort of conversation and interaction we could naturally have. During our time out, however, Adam took to treating me less like his mother's best-friend, or an aunt, but rather talked to me in a way he would with 'a friend'. That revealed a side of conversation with Adam I previously never thought existed, and I found myself genuinely appreciating his company.
All of that helped.
What didn't help, however, was that the entire time we were out for lunch, Adam barely looked at his food or anywhere else for that matter. His eyes were solely and only glued on me. No one had ever looked at me like that. It was as if he were awe-struck, and while most men felt similarly when eyeing my body, Adam paid it no attention at all. Despite my cleavage-revealing outfit, his eyes were locked solidly on my face, eyes and lips.
Was he really in love with me? Was he going down the same path of addiction I'd earlier unraveled when processing my powerlessness when it came to him? I didn't know the answer to either, but from how beautiful I'd been finding the moment we'd been sharing together, to how his eyes, his cute face, and his shy but determined attempts at making conversation were all focused entirely on me, I was starting to subconsciously question if I returned any, if not all, of those hypothetical feelings right back. Which wasn't good news. It wasn't good news at all.
Things were already complicated sexually. They were now getting complicated emotionally.
"Stop looking at me like that." I said, kicking his leg from under the table. His awe struck glare had managed to make me blush, and it was my turn to be the timid one.
"You're so beautiful." He said without a second's worth of waiting, clearly having wanted to say it for a while now.
I felt the urge to tell him he was pretty handsome himself, but held back. I'd mostly given up on controlling the sexual aspect of our relationship, but emotionally, I still held the major adult responsibility of not letting him actually fall for me, or worse, falling for him.
"Adam, no..." I felt him rubbing his foot on my leg under the table. My dress had been pulled up in the seated position, and my legs lay exposed to just above the knees. Adam had taken off his sandals as his bare foot slowly moved up my leg, eventually reaching between my legs and caressing the soft skin of my thighs. His gradual, calculated movements coupled with the way he'd been eyeing me this entire time were suddenly making me feel things I shouldn't be feeling in public.
"Adam, stop. Not here." I said, not very convincingly. If not for his boyish innocence, he might have been able to decipher the true meaning of those words.
