All characters are over 18, copyright 2011
Breakfast had been a strange affair. Bill had been too worn out to notice much, and Sheryl had made sure he stayed distracted by doing what she had always done after they had shared a night of passionate love-making. She sat close to her husband, so that her thigh made contact with his, often touching his arm with hers. Occasionally, lean over and kiss him on the cheek. She would get up and refill his coffee, always in such a way to be able to brush her breasts against some part of him, hugging him close and delivering another kiss before sitting down. It had been months since she'd done so.
Their lovemaking had always been regular and the sex good, if not great. If it lacked anything, it was intensity. After nearly two decades of marriage, that was natural. The intensity level always increased whenever he took a new mistress. Usually the new intensity came from him, but not always.
When she first told him she couldn't keep up with his sex drive he'd been apologetic. She hadn't blamed him, telling him he had never pressured or forced her. When she suggested he find a mistress, he'd been surprised. When she insisted, he'd been shocked.
In a last ditch attempt to dissuade, he demanded that she would meet and approve of any prospective mistress before the relationship began. She agreed, but flatly refused his suggestion that she have the same freedom under the same conditions, saying it would only be fair if he wasn't able to match her sex drive, in which case he wouldn't need a mistress. Then she laughed that if she couldn't keep up with the one man she truly loved, there was no way she could keep up with two.
Breakfast for Jimmy, on the other hand...
His mom and dad were acting like newlyweds. It would happen at times, but never quite like this. At one point his dad realized the spectacle they were making in front of their son, but chuckled "Son, you know how affectionate your mother can be when she's really happy with me. I guess this morning she is really happy." His mother giggled her agreement and gave his father a kiss on the cheek.
Bill and Jimmy were finishing their meal when Sheryl stood up and said she was going to check the flight to make sure it was on time. Before she went into the house she stood behind Jimmy's chair and gave him a motherly hug. "Don't mind me and your dad, Jimmy. You know we love you." She planted a peck at the top of his forehead and left. The spots on his shoulders that felt the incidental touch of her breasts burned like fire.
As she had made her way out of the bathroom for the breakfast her son had prepared, the two of them had stumbled into each other by accident. Jimmy had reflexively reached to keep her from falling, one hand ending around her waist, the other cupping one of her breasts. The touch had set her on fire, and given that she'd seduced her son less than thirty minutes before, she'd expected he would have drawn her close for a kiss and a grope. Instead he had flinched back hard and without speaking or looking at her had fled to his room. When he had joined them some minutes later, he seemed very calm, very collected, neither avoiding eye contact with her or Bill, nor avoiding her touch when she had stretched her leg out under the table to play footsie with his groin.
But now Sheryl was having second thoughts about what she was planning. Yesterday, when she had seen her husband and daughter together, she had snapped. She could have stormed in and confronted them both. But instead, she had looked on in a cloud of anger, betrayal and lust. After she'd left, she masturbated furiously and then concocted a scheme to strike back.
The drive to the airport hadn't left her much time to reflect on the last twenty-four hours. She had pulled Bill's penis from his pants as soon as they had left the house and sucked on it until they arrived at the airport. He had been so drained
The drive home, on the other hand, left ample time for reflection. Jimmy had declared his love for her, not just a son's love for his mother, but something far deeper. She had seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, felt it in her very soul. That she was using him as a pawn in her scheme gnawed at her. But she couldn't undo what had been done. She needed his help to get at the other two women in Bill's life; his girlfriend, one of many he had taken at Sheryl's insistence when his libido had proven too much for her to handle, and her daughter Tiffany.
Sheryl had nothing against Bill's girlfriend/mistress/office assistant. Ashley was a petite, beautiful and shapely Amerasian girl. She was also smart, clever and efficient at her work, and considerate. The first time Sheryl had met her, Ashley had asked if she was okay with Bill having an affair with her. The conversation had been friendly. Ashley had been charmingly concerned that she would come between Sheryl and Bill or cause them marital problems. Her concern had been touching and her honesty refreshing.
Tiffany, however, was a different matter. Sheryl and her daughter were very close, as much friends as mother and daughter. Maybe that's why seeing her daughter having sex with, then making love to her husband had been such a shock, no, a betrayal. Fathers and daughters weren't supposed to have sex with each other. Friends don't steal their friends' lovers.
Sheryl didn't believe Bill had instigated the relationship; he'd been reluctant enough to go outside the bounds of marriage for sex, until Sheryl herself had insisted. That meant that Tiffany had seduced her father, making her the guilty party. That Bill had succumbed to his daughter's obvious charms made him only slightly less guilty. The son of a bitch should have told her what was going on, or refused their daughter. But Sheryl could see how it would have been difficult for her husband to resist if Tiffany had been determined.
Tiffany was, by any measure of the word, a knockout. She was a bit shorter than her mother, not quite as full in the breasts or butt, but hadn't borne two children either. Her features weren't as delicate as her mother's, but she had deep blue eyes set above an adorably cute button nose. Her high cheeks were lightly dusted with freckles. She did share her mother's full sensuous lips, lips that begged to be kissed. On top of her purely physical enticements, Tiffany exuded a sort of sensuality that caused heads to turn, both men and women. "Damn it," Sheryl said aloud to herself, "She could have any man she wanted. Why did she have to pick Bill?" That question triggered a flood of anger that washed away her doubts, reinforcing her determination to go forward with her plans. Her resolve bolstered, she went by an ATM, withdrew some cash and made several purchases. Then another idea struck her. Pulling out her cell phone, she made an appointment at a spa/salon.