Several folks requested a follow up to my first effort. I have carefully read the comments and appreciate those with helpful feedback. Its not necessary that you read the first story for this one to make sense, but it will surely help.
For those suggesting I pick up the pace, you'll want to skip this chapter. My goal is to put context to the relationship, The next chapter will be posted soon.
Everyone in the story is over 18.
Allie awakes with a start, the car pulling into the driveway flashing headlights across the living room, currently only lit by the glowing blue light of large plasma TV. Remembering where she is, and what happened earlier, she stands up quickly, untangling her limbs from Caden's, hoping he remains asleep as she shakes her sleeping shirt down and pads quickly to the stairs before Randy can make it inside.
She lets out a slow deep breath, relieved that she is safely ensconced in her room as she hears the front door open. Will Caden wake up? Will he tell his older brother what happened? Allie listens intently, only to hear a quiet, muffled conversation between her two sons. Still unsure of what exactly happened, or why she let it happen, Allie takes the 3 steps to her comforting sanctuary, and slips under the quilted duvet.
Later, in that hazy period between alertness and sleep, Allie hears the 2 brothers climb the stairs, say goodnight and head into their individual rooms.
The sun shining through the window is a clear sign to Allie that she forgot to set the alarm clock, not worringabout work since its the weekend, its still unusual for any of the kids to beat her out of bed, yet she clearly hears someone in the kitchen and notices the aroma of coffee brewing. It has to be Randy, she isn't sure Caden even knows how to make coffee, let alone get out of bed before 11 AM on a Saturday.
Caden Garret and John Randall. Not that Allie uses those names much, unless they are either in trouble, or trying her best to use her mom voice. Could two brothers be more different than these two?
Caden, 5 feet 10 inches (and a half when he tells it) and 195lbs of solid 20 year old college football playing muscle. Impetuous, outgoing, fun loving and devil may care. Never without a steady girlfriend since he was 16, but never a serious one either. A hale and hearty, devil well met type of young man, naturally liked by nearly everyone, his mischievous blue eyes always hinting through the twinkling at what ever he is thinking.
Randy, 6 feet 3 inches, rail thin, his 24 year old body never going past 175 pounds. Thin but healthy, his black hair already thinning, his glasses making him appears as bookish as he really is. Whip smart, quiet, nearly introverted, his bend towards academia prevalent from an early age, his teachers always singing his praises about his exceptional study habits. Dating occasionally, usually if the girl asked him, but often enough Allie wasn't concerned about his social skills. Randy definitely took after his father's side of the family. Thin, dark complected and thoughtful if not emotional. His dark hair and eyes aren't the only thing Randy got from his dad for he also inherited his dad's hands. Long, strong, dextrous fingers that were equally at home on piano keys or tinkering with the inside of a computer.
Allie reflected on their differences, the same gene pool, yet two different young men who likely wouldn't even be friends if they weren't brothers. To her immense satisfaction though, they are both friends and brothers.
Allie arose from the covers, moving into the en-suite bathroom. Pulling down her panties for her morning bathroom ritual, she sees them stretched out of shape and she is suddenly reminded of what happened last night between her and Caden Garret. Allie had actually half convinced herself it had all been a dream, but the light finger marks on her arm, her misshapen panties, and the sticky half dried wetness between her legs told her the truth.
Gazing into the mirror, wondering how it happened, Allie took a moment to reflect. Her somewhat disheveled blond hair falling just past her shoulders, her blue eyes clear and piercing, her cheek bones prominent. Allie was blessed with both naturally good eyelashes and pursing lips. More than once, in better days, her ex referring to them as her DSLs. A term Allie should have been pissed about, but inwardly had to agree with. On more than one occasion on trips to the city, Allie had been mistaken for Edie Falco. The first time she was asked, she had to look it up, and had to admit to herself she did fairly resemble Mrs Soprano, except her Allie's breasts were larger, a natural 36 C that had withstood the test of time thus far, still amazing with or without a bra. Her legs kept firm from the yoga she did between work and errands for the kids.
Allie quickly ran a brush through her hair, brushed her teeth, and grabbed her modest June Cleaver bathrobe, heading downstairs, and hearing two male voices in the kitchen. Randy and Caden enjoying catching up over a cup of coffee. Allie was glad for the presence of her eldest son, since she wasn't sure exactly how she was going to discuss last night with Caden.
"Morning mom!" Caden bellowed his usual way, looking her way with a smile and a wink.
Randy, the more quiet, nodded her way and said his good morning slightly above his usual near whisper speaking voice.
