CHAPTER 2: A TASTE FOR BLACK
"How are you feeling?" mom asked. Jerome and Ty insisted we remain in the bed and they would let themselves out. We had just heard the front door close. "Are you okay?"
I sighed, "My God, mom, my body is still tingling." I was laying on my back exactly where I was when I rolled off Jerome. Even several minutes after we had both climaxed (me for the second time) and I had recovered enough to thank him, he was still inside me. He was softening, I could tell, but he was so big he stayed inside. Mom was softly stroking my breasts, stomach, and down to my still spread legs.
"Anything troubling you about this? About what happened?"
I turned my head to her, "No, mom." I smiled. "It was amazing. I think I understand a little better now." She smiled back. I think she was relieved I wasn't having guilt feelings about joining them. "Can I ask you something, though?"
"Of course. Anything."
"I was a limp rag after but I noticed you sucking their cocks after." I was curious because they had both just climaxed in us and they were going to be leaving. What was the purpose of sucking them when it wasn't to get them hard, again?
She smiled and kissed my closest nipple and I felt an immediate response. I watched her. She was thinking. Forming her words? Deciding what to say? She leaned closer to give me a soft, short kiss on the lips. The taste was interesting. Probably from sucking their cocks at the end. Then, she surprised me. She leaned fully onto my side, one hand on my breast and she kissed me hard and passionately. After a moment of shock, I responded.
"Have you ever been with a woman?" she asked.
"Once, in college, a girl tried to seduce me. She was clearly lesbian and I was into guys. It didn't do anything for me. You?" Was she avoiding my question?
She shook her head. "No. Never even thought about it. Until now." It felt like a major admission.
"I'd like it, mom. I'd like it a lot." I pulled her head to mine and we kissed, kissed, and fondled for many minutes.
When she pulled back, we both gasped happily for air. "Your question," she resumed. "The guys ... they have a rule." She watched me. "After they cum, I clean their cocks with my mouth and tongue of my juices and their cum."
"Every time?" I asked. She nodded. Curious, I thought. Then, what I heard earlier charged back into my consciousness. "Mom ... they were calling you a slut ... maybe as often as using your name. You didn't seem to react to being called that."
She giggled. "That's because it is what I am. At least with them." She paused. She told me to wait and she rolled off the bed and hurried out of the room. I sensed a story coming so I scooched back against the headboard after arranging the pillows. She returned moments later with two glasses of wine. I watched her breasts as she entered. That must be how mine looked when I move around naked.
"Alright," she began after getting settled next to me, "remember I said I have been doing this for a while? The fucking various guys thing at hotels and apartments?" I nodded, anxious to maybe hear more. "Well, it is all true. I was very casual about sex, maybe too casual. Too many different men in too many uncontrolled situations. I was probably behaving dangerously. You know, putting myself at risk. But ... I needed sex. I wanted sex. I'm not sure what happened or when exactly that fire got lit but, when it did, it was like a furnace, not a light. So, I started pulling back, trying to show some responsibility. Then, one night at a dance club, I met Jerome. Oh, Emma, he literally swept me off my feet. I'm like 14 years older than him. Oh, what a night. He danced with me. We talked. We danced more. I was sure he was going to want to take me somewhere, but he didn't even though I really wanted him to. I was disappointed, to say the least. Frustrated even. But everything else about the night was perfect."
She drank some wine and poured us more. "So ... what happened?" I asked. My mom. I was talking to my mom about sexual conquests. But, we had just been fucked next to each other, too.
She chuckled remembering. "I went back to the same club on the same night of the week and at the same time. I had to, right?" I nodded. Of course, I nodded. "I didn't get 15 feet inside the door and he was at my elbow. Do you know what he said? He said, 'I was such an idiot for not asking for your phone number.' I laughed. I was so relieved. We drank, talked, and danced more. I was in heaven. I don't even remember how he did it but he had me talking honestly about men and what I liked. He had a confession, he said. He'd seen me before, several times with different men and ... and leaving with different men. He probed into that and for some reason, I responded. He questioned why I took risks like that. I told him, why I don't know, that I had a bad marriage and I was done with that. He nodded. He understood, he said. But, he insisted, I needed to be safe, I needed to be watched over, someone I could trust."
"Just a talk? This all happened because of a talk in a club?" I challenged.