"I'm telling you bro, the little punk's banging her!"
Miles Bradley winced at the volume of Devon's voice as he listened to the story. "Drunken dancing does not an affair make!" He responded. "Who else have you been telling this to?"
"Everyone!" Devon looked surprised Miles wasn't buying the tale. "You saw her at the party, it wasn't just the booze man, she was all over him."
Miles shook his head. "Can I remind you she was actually pretty restrained this year or has your memory been deleted with that photo?"
Devon looked sour at the thought of the lost image. "You explain her flashing and pissing in the street with Cain looking on then."
Miles peered over Devon's shoulder and quickly turned his back heading for the staircase, abandoning his wait for the elevator. "Where the fuck are you going?" Devon yelled to him before he felt the presence of someone else behind him. Turning he was met with the appearance of the company C.E.O. Walter Fisk and he swallowed nervously at his sober visage.
"How about you come up to my office Mr. Tallis and you can explain to me what you think is going on in my company." Walter suggested, and as if on cue the elevator doors chimed open.
* * * * *
Devon Tallis straightened his tie as he walked from Walter Fisk's office. Proud of the information he'd relayed to the boss he headed back to his own work space, winking at a female receptionist as he passed who (unseen by him) rolled her eyes in response.
Walter strode to the window sipping from his coffee cup as he looked out on the clear L.A. morning. Smarmy git, he thought. He'd be sure to inform Devon's manager of his staff's unprofessional conduct. Spreading rumors and innuendo wasn't in the Fisk & Tavish dna; he'd definitely be receiving a warning. As to the information however. "Evelyn, Evelyn, Evelyn." Walter mused. "What have you been up to?"
* * * * *
Evelyn ran a hand along her thigh, admiring the feel of the satin chiffon blend of her new pleated skirt. Seated in her car at the traffic lights she calculated the amount of money she'd spent the day before. Thank goodness for separate bank accounts, she thought. Harold would not have approved.
Sunday afternoon retail therapy was what she'd called it when he saw her arrive home with the bags under her arms. New dresses and skirts, some items of lingerie and some cheap and trashy underwear. She hadn't had a splurge like that in years, Harold's seeming disinterest in her had seen her dressing sexily, solely for herself; now however she had the joy of dressing to impress another.
Her hand reached the hem of the skirt and touched her stocking clad inner thigh. A tingle ran up her spine as she thought of Cain's hands on her. His eyes on her new clothing, her body beneath. She allowed her fingers to stroke back along her now parted legs and under the skirt, bunching it to her waist. Her tan stay up stocking tops exposed and the white triangle of her thong now visible to her and anyone who happened to look into her car. She cared not. Her mind was caught in a vision of her son between her legs. Her hand as if controlled by another, pressed against her now sodden panties. Her legs spread further, her fingers pushed at the entrance to her vagina and a car beeped her from behind. Evelyn cleared her head and smiling to herself drove through the intersection, her workplace only blocks away.
* * * * *
Cain waited on the couch in his mother's office. It hadn't even been twenty four hours since he'd seen her but it felt an eternity. Crazy, he thought. He'd seen this woman nearly every day of his life, thought he knew everything about her and yet now he ached to lay his eyes upon her, yearned to learn every aspect of her being.
Evelyn left the elevator and headed towards her office. She could see the top of Cain's head seated on the couch through the glass partition and she sucked in a breath at his presence. Smiling at a secretary as she passed, the girl turned to her colleague and whispered something unheard and unseen by Evelyn.
She entered the office and ignoring her son walked straight to her desk, placing her handbag down on it's surface. Bending forward with her back to Cain, she took up a pen and feigned writing something on a notepad. Cain for a moment presumed she hadn't noticed he'd arrived before her but as she leaned forward he knew exactly what she was doing.
Evelyn had tested it at home of course. Bending before the mirror in her bedroom, she was satisfied with how high her skirt rose up the back of her legs. The stocking tops revealed. Perfect, she thought. It was the same word Cain now said in his head as he gazed upon the long legs of his mother. His vantage point was optimal to witness the show. The racing green pleated skirt revealing the lace top of his mother's stockings, he craved to know the color and design of her panties. That would come, he thought. "Ahem," Cain cleared his throat. "Good morning Evelyn."
Evelyn turned around and straightened. She looked out into the office to see if anyone had witnessed and smiled back at her son. "Oh Cain! I didn't know you were there." She lied. Leaning her bottom back onto the desk she parted her feet and allowed her skirt to press down on the contour of her legs and crotch. The black spaghetti strap tank top hugged her torso like he longed to, bra straps visible, supporting her wondrous breasts.
"How was your weekend?" She asked, keeping it professional. Outside the office a colleague approached the photocopier and seemed to be hovering.
Cain smiled, enjoying the charade. "Really good. Went to my parent's place. Spent some time with my mom." He watched as his mother walked around and sat at her desk turning on her computer in the process. Beneath the desk he noticed her raise her skirt high on her thigh. High enough that he could see the lace top of her stocking.
"Oh that's nice. I'm sure she loved that." She watched the person at the photocopier drift away, no longer eavesdropping and the question in her mind as to why they would've been, drifted away with them.
Opening her email she received a confirmation about the fan. "Oh good news. Our fan should be downstairs. Shall we go and check it out?" She asked.
Cain stood and did his best to camouflage his erection. "Ready when you are Evelyn."
Walking behind her to the lift he noticed eyes on them and assumed they were admiring Evelyn's clothing. He certainly was.
* * * * *
Walter looked through the employee files on his computer. Evelyn Parker's record appeared and he smiled at her photo. Ten years Evelyn, he thought. You and Harold always seemed happy together. He recalled not having seen Harold at the golf club in years and for a moment questioned whether he had possibly passed away. No, he thought. Evelyn spoke of him not three months back. Why would she be having an affair with a co-worker? The evidence Devon had provided had been quite damning. Photos of them on the dance floor. He acknowledged that everyone was drunk at the Christmas party but they did seem to be very close. The kicker was Devon witnessing her, how did he put it? "Flashing and pissing in the street, with Cain looking on!" Admittedly the image did sound arousing to even Walter but he tried to remain professional.
So why this lad? Walter asked himself. Devon described them walking from the scene arm in arm laughing like lovers toward Cain's apartment. He questioned Devon as to how he knew where Cain lived and he provided a feasible response in that he'd gone there with Miles Bradly to drop off a costume the day before. Again he asked himself, why this lad? Throw away thirty years of marriage for an office fling. He typed in the name of the boy. Cain Trainor. Trainor, he thought. Why did the name ring bells? It was as if a light bulb came on above his head. Trainor! That's Harold's surname. "He's her bloody son!"
