Disclaimers: All sexual acts in this fictional tale are performed by people over 18 years of age. Fictional being the operative word. Any resemblance to real life people is purely coincidental. In 1946 Irving Berlin wrote a song titled, I Got the Sun In The Morning, And The Moon At Night, for the play Annie Get Your Gun. In the 1950's there was a bawdy version titled, I Got The Son In The Morning and The Father At Night. My story is sort of a take off on the second song. This is new subject material that I am exploring, and I am not sure what category to put this story into, lesbian, incest/taboo, or what? I hope you enjoy it wherever it lands.
My name is Ron Adams, Jr. a 20 year old, with a newly started contracting company. You see, I was never cut out to be a college student, so after graduating high school, I took my best talents and put them to work. From an early age, I learned that I could build or repair almost anything.
I was always hanging around my dad, Ron, Sr, watching him in his home workshop. It was his hobby, relaxing him from his job as a corporate accountant. My two older sisters had his number skills, while I found I could duplicate his mechanical skills. He never pushed me to follow his chosen profession, but told me to work on what pleased me, not anyone else.
In high school, while playing football, basketball and running track, it was track that I enjoyed the most. Or just maybe. it was the fact I did far better a both track and field events, than I did playing a wide receiver or shooting guard. I finished my senior year by placing 2nd in our state in the 400 meter dash, and winning the high jump. Not bad for a kid barely 6' tall high jumping 6'10". To be honest, I ran the 400 just to stay in shape for the other sports. I really did improve all 4 years in high school.
With being sort of a jock, I had a very good social life, during school, but many of my girl friends couldn't understand why I wasn't going to college. Try as I might, most of them didn't grasp the notion that college wasn't for me. I was already picking up odd jobs, fixing things for neighbors. I appreciated the experience, plus the spending money I was getting.
When I graduated high school, my parents and I had a very lengthy talk about what I wanted to do. Mom was very supportive and dad being the great dad that he had always been, offered to help set me up in my business. Nothing was free, he told me, the money he was fronting me for a really decent truck and tool sets, was to be paid back. Agreed. His expertise in helping me set up a billing and accounting system was free. Thank you Quick Books!
During my first year, I started picking up small jobs, here and there, keeping my head above water, always paying dad back, each month. Word of mouth, I came to realize was far more valuable than paid advertising. Thank you, Yelp! And Home Advisor.
I was finally able to move into my own little rental house, as I needed a garage for my workshop. Nothing fancy, but it gave me my independence. Not that my love life was scorching, but it might happen, one day.
I got an email, one Sunday, from Anna Martin, asking if I could do some work that she needed in remodeling one room in her house, seeing her daughter would be moving back in, the following month.
I set up a time the very next afternoon. I was a bit surprised when a very attractive, 50'ish lady answered the door. She was on the short side, maybe 5'4" and nicely put together. Her medium brown hair in a pony tail, and casually dressed in a light cotton shirt and snug fitting jeans. Going over her ideas of what she wanted done, it seemed to me that she began glancing at my crotch. Or was I doing some wishful thinking? As she moved closer to me, did I feel her breast pressing against my arm? Did I also notice a slight grin on her face?
I came away with several ideas that I told her I would email to her by the following day. I felt that breast on my arm, the rest of the day. Damn, if she weren't my mother's age, I would jump her body in a heartbeat, I thought.
I worked up a design of what she wanted and sent it off via email. Almost immediately, she responded asking me to come by that very afternoon, to discuss that work, and possibly some more. Who was I to turn down potential jobs?
Knocking on her door, she answered, wearing a fairly low cut blouse showing ample cleavage, along with those extra snug jeans. I had to force my eyes upward, to keep my hormones in check. We went over my plans and the only change she made was the paint color.
"Would you like something cold to drink?" she asked.
"If it's not too much trouble, Mrs Martin," I replied.
"As long as you are staring at my tits, call me Anna," she stated matter of factly.
My blushing face was on fire. Stammering like some sort of clown, I couldn't apologize enough.
"That's OK, my daughter keeps telling me I should start dating, again," she stated.
Yes, I thought, but not with someone my age, I bet.
She told me she had been divorced for over 10 years, but had some disastrous forays into the dating scene.
She asked if I wanted a cold beer. and when I told her I wasn't 21 yet, she responded by saying, "you must be kidding me. Anyway, I'm not the police, so drink up."
Sitting next to her, with my beer and her glass of red wine, we just chatted about a little about everything. She, too was an accountant, like my dad, and I told her about how my business was starting to take hold.
All of a sudden her hand jerks a little, spilling a few drops of red wine on her white blouse. Without thinking, I took the napkin I was holding and dabbed a few times right on her breast.
With a deep sigh, she whispered "keep rubbing, Ron, and I might have to take this blouse off." I didn't need any more encouragement, so I put my napkin down, and lifted her blouse over her head. I leaned over kissing the tops of her full C cup breasts causing several deep breaths.
Anna stood up, taking my hands and leading me into her darkened bedroom. I was just going to say something, when she puts a finger to my lips and tells me, "no talking!"
