Steve knocked on the front door of Brandon’s house on Sherwood Drive.
Instead of his friend answering, it was Brandon’s mom.
“Steve, how are you?” she said brightly.
“Hi, Ms. Davis. I’m here to get Brandon.”
“He’s not back yet. He was held up at track practice. It shouldn’t be too long though. You can come in to wait if you want.” She stepped back to let him in.
“It shouldn’t be long?”
“He texted me, saying it wouldn’t be, no. If you want to stay or go, it’s your choice.”
Steve stepped in. “I’ll stay for a little bit. If he’s not back soon, then I’ll just leave.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be doing some work back in the office.”
Steve had been to Brandon’s house many times since the two of them were pulled apart in a brawl in the third grade, so he felt comfortable there. Steve kicked off his shoes and plopped into the center of the plush couch. He grabbed the TV remote and aimed it at the large screen. Suddenly, there was a terrible squeal from Ms. Davis’s office. It sounded like she had either burned herself or saw a giant mouse. Steve jumped to his feet when he heard a chair crash to the floor.
Ms. Davis rushed into the living room.
She shouted, “Don’t turn that on!” Her face was covered in horror.
“Ok, ok, ok.” Steve raised his hands, pausing in place, like a criminal with police pistols aimed at his chest. He dropped the remote at her command.
The remote clunked against the edge of the coffee table and bounced to the floor, the back cover splitting, the batteries landing in the carpet.
Seeing the remote out of his hands, Ms. Davis patted her chest and calmed her breathing.
“Are you all right? What happened back there?” Steve asked but he still hadn’t moved.
“Everything’s fine, fine. I just can’t have you see what’s on the TV screen. It’s personal—for work, only for work.”
“All right.” Steve dragged out his words, confused by the reason why Brandon’s mom had reacted so abruptly and hysterically.
She knelt to pick up the remote and reset the batteries.
Before she aimed the remote, she told him, “Turn your head, please.”
Steve shifted his gaze away from the screen.
“No, you need to turn your back to the TV.”
“Ms. Davis, is everything really all right? You’re acting strange, really strange.”
“I have to be. This is so personal.”
“But you said it’s for work. I don’t even know what your job is.” He pleaded his innocence and inability to steal market intelligence. “So I can’t give away business secrets. I’d be the worst.” He tried to be lighthearted. Then he realized something more. Someone else may be here. An intruder, a robber, maybe a man intent on actually getting the information, a blackmailer.
Steve whispered, “Is someone back there? Are you in trouble?”
“No and no.” She spoke confidently.
He raised his eyebrows and dramatically mouthed the words, “For real?”
She responded loudly, “Everything is fine. I am not in trouble. There is no trouble at all.”
She walked to him and patted his shoulders. She looked at him in reassurance. She tried to form an innocent, warm smile. “I just need you to not see what’s on the screen.”
“I’m confused. Really confused.” His eyes moved from the hallway leading to her office, to Ms. Davis and to the blank TV screen.
Ms. Davis gave a motherly directive. “How about you step onto the front porch for a moment.” Then she pointed to the door.
“No problem. I don’t want to cause any hassle or get you in trouble.”
He stepped onto the porch, and she closed the door. Steve heard the click of the lock. He quickly moved toward a front window. He was still unconvinced that Brandon’s mom was not in trouble. He feared seeing a large man in dark clothes step into view. Maybe with a weapon.
He leaned forward over a prickly shrub to peek in the window. Ms. Davis and the TV were in view. No other person appeared. Only Ms. Davis was there. She pointed the remote, and the screen brightened, the TV coming alive. Steve straightaway gasped, then choked. On the screen was Ms. Davis naked, full frontal, her hands behind her head, her breasts hanging separately with large, dark areolas, her wide hips and thick thighs giving her body the shape of a perfect hookah, all centered by a dark bush of hair, au naturel. With the stance, she had the confidence of a central figure in classical art. She was not hiding anything, not embarrassed or conveying awkwardness. She was posing for all.
Suddenly the screen went blank but brightened again. Another image of Ms. Davis. She was bent over, her large motherly ass filling most of the screen. Her fingernails were digging into thick flesh. The screen went dark again. Then, to Steve’s complete surprise, Ms. Davis appeared once more. Her dark hair was pulled back by a strong, manly hand. She was staring directly at the camera with her mouth stuffed with a dick. Her left cheek was rounded by the heavy head. And then the TV screen went black.
Steve released a suffocating gasp. He didn’t realize he had not been breathing. Standing there, he palmed his forehead, dumbstruck. “Brandon’s mom? What’d I just see? Did I see what I just saw?” He coughed in his startlement.
With a thudding heart and a coagulated mind, he decided on a getaway, so he quick-stepped to his car. He mumbled to himself, “I gotta go, gotta leave.”
Getting into his car, he heard Ms. Davis call from a distance. “Steve? Where’d you go? You can come in. Steve?”
He backed his car out of the driveway. Speeding away, he glanced toward the front door through the passenger window. Ms. Davis was in the doorway, waving to him, trying to get his attention. He didn’t respond or slow down.
At home, he rushed inside.
“What’s—” Steve’s mother couldn’t finish her question before he rushed by and went to his room.
In there, Steve plopped onto his bed, laid out flat, staring at the still ceiling fan. Those three images from the TV screen—Ms. Davis completely nude and in action—were branded fresh, torrid, in detail, on his mind. He let himself massage those images, kneading them, rolling them over and over. These new images stirred long-ago dreams Steve had had when he was younger. His vague and quick teenage infatuations of Ms. Davis revived and charged his mind that was now feverish with what-might-be fantasies.
When he had been at Brandon’s house over the years, his eyes would follow Brandon’s mom’s lovely hulking ass swish when she walked by. He remembered one time walking into Brandon’s backyard from his house to a never-forgotten surprise: Ms. Davis sunbathing, laying out on a fold-out lounge chair. She wore a tiny pair of shorts and an orange tube top barely covering her breasts. His eyes had directly centered on the noticeable knobs pressing against the thin fabric. He stumbled when he saw her.
Later that day and many times thereafter, he fantasized about her desiring him and letting him do things to her. He imagined her sitting up, obviously pleased to see him. “Steve, I’m glad you’re here. I decided to sit out because I knew you’d come by,” she told him. She ran her forefinger from nipple to noticeable nipple. “Do you like my top? It fit me best. It’s as small as I could find.” She smiled, knowing he was stricken by her. “Will you rub suntan lotion on my back and my thighs? I can’t reach. Let me undo my top so you can rub me down.”
She unclasped the top and rolled to her stomach. Her breasts were flattened and the luscious flesh squished from the sides of her chest. He squirted out a handful of lotion and massaged it deep into her sun-warmed body. The white cream quickly disappeared into her flesh.
“Go lower on my back,” she told him. “Pull down my shorts a little to get more of me. I don’t want a visible tan line.” Steve reached to the elastic band and tugged the shorts. “Let me help.” Ms. Davis lifted her hips to allow him to slide down the shorts. He moved them down until the very top of her crevice became visible. She looked back over her shoulder. She spoke easily, calmly. “That’s low enough.” And he continued to rub in the lotion. “Don’t forget to put some on my sides.”
He tentatively smeared the cream on her hips, on her heavy flesh, then up further until his hands came to the obvious sides of her breasts. He stopped before coating them with cream. She turned her head to him again. “It won’t bother me. You can touch me, Steve.” She added his name. He swallowed. His fingers were tingling. His muscles, twittering. When he reached them, the flesh squishing from under her was supple and soft. “You like doing this, don’t you?” she asked. “Yeah.” The monosyllable response was all he could muster in that moment.
“Rub my thighs. High up on my legs and between them.” Steve shifted down the lounge chair, and his hands gripped the hefty thighs. She laid down her head on her hands. She exhaled. “You’re making me feel so good. I would let you do this anytime you want.” She spread her legs slightly for easier access. After a pause, she said, “I know you’ve got to be hard. Would you press your cock against me? I need to feel it. I have not felt a man in a long time.” He reset himself on the chair. A moment later, she moved her hand to her side and found his dick. She pawed it sumptuously and then reached into his shorts to grip it, flesh on flesh.
His fantasy would quickly end at that point, often with a warm cream and deep breathes. Relief.
“Steve?” He heard his mother and a knock on his door.
He sat up quickly. “I’m fine, Mom. I’m going back to get Brandon in a little while. He wasn’t home.”
Thankfully, she left.
Steve pulled down his pants and released his hard-on, now stiffened tighter than usual. He stroked himself. The images of Ms. Davis’s tits and the natural bush, her large ass. But he exploded when the image of her sucking that dick filled his mind. Like he had gasped on the porch a half-hour before, he had the same coughing gasp.
He cleaned up and returned to get Brandon. He worked to calm himself knowing he would likely see Ms. Davis again. In person. In real life. In clothes.
He breathed deeply and then knocked.
The handle turned and the door opened.
“Dude, I got hung up at track. Mom said she told you.” Brandon reached toward the couch to grab his backpack.
“Yeah, she did.”
Suddenly, Ms. Davis stepped into view. “Steve, where did you go earlier? I saw you drive away. Didn’t you see me?”
Steve had trouble responding. It was the woman, in real life. He knew what she looked like naked. A new sort of personal porn star. There was no way he could admit the real reason for his sudden departure. There was one simple excuse for a horny mind. “I forgot something at home, so I went to get it.”
“OK.” She shrugged. “So you know …”
“Know what? What do I know?” Steve stuttered.
“… That there were no problems here. I hope I didn’t upset or worry you.”
“Naw.” He waved off the notion. “I knew things were cool.”
“You seemed worried though.”
Brandon interrupted, glancing between his friend and his mother. “Worried about what?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Just some work stuff that he got mixed up about.”
“Work, huh?” Brandon said.
Steve thought of responding somehow but opted for a quiet, simple smile. It was best to be innocent, and the mirage of innocence would stave off further questions. Steve struggled to move his eyes away from Brandon’s mom though, and his mind continued to picture her as she was on-screen. He was still engrossed, salivating at seeing her so intimately.
Brandon waved his hand in front of Steve’s face. Steve awoke.
“What are you thinking, dude?”
“Nothing, nothing at all. A lot at school.”
“Have a good time, guys,” Ms. Davis said. “Be back by 10. It’s a school night.” She waved and left the room.
Steve got one more quick glance at her wide ass. Then he shook his mind free of her.
That evening, he and Brandon played basketball at the gym with the other guys for a few hours before stopping for a fast-food fill-up. On the way home Brandon noted Steve’s poor play.
“You sucked tonight! You were missing everything, man. Couldn’t even make an easy lay-up. What happened to your skills?”
“Some nights things are just … off.” Another thought filled his mind: Brandon’s mom had everything off today too. He forced the piercing thought out of his mind. Refreshing and bolstering himself. “I’ll be on my game next time. You need to up your game too. You weren’t any better than me, even when I was off. I hustle you all the time. When I come back, get ready. It’s coming again.” He wagged his finger.
Brandon brushed off Steve’s banter. “Bring it, son. I’m ready now.”
Steve didn’t answer. He wasn’t ready.
“Something’s still on your mind, dude.” Brandon looked at Steve.
“No, I don’t.”
“I know you. And your game was shit. Something’s going on.”
Steve focused on the road ahead.
“Is it Whitney? She been ignoring you? I’ve told you to dump her if she’s going to do that.”
The suggestion was a good diversion from his mother. “I’m still not sure about her.”
“Stephanie still getting your dick hard?” Brandon laughed and slapped Steve’s shoulder teasingly.
“She does have it. I can’t keep my eyes off of her.”
“Better keep your sights covered from Whitney. She would slap you hard. And I don’t mean that kind of hard.”
Steve forced a laugh. He knew that Brandon understood nothing about what was really happening. So he only laughed and said, “Girls are crazy.”
At home, Brandon got out of the car but he leaned back in before closing the door. “I forgot. Come inside. Your laptop is fixed.”
“Can you just bring it out? I need to get home.”
“It’ll be a second. I want to show you the fixes and updates.”
Steve teetered on whether or not he wanted to see Ms. Davis. Without seeing her, he could better control his thoughts and focus on the computer. Otherwise he would struggle completely to pay attention.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go in. I don’t want to bother your mom, if she’s asleep.”
“No way. She’s not in bed. Probably just on the couch, watching TV.”
“On TV.” The memory slipped out of his mouth.
“TV shows, just thinking what’s on these days.” Steve got out of the car and closed his car door.
“I don’t know. I don’t have any time to watch TV.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
Brandon led them inside, and Steve heard her.
“Thank you for being on time.” Ms. Davis’s voice, it sounded sweet to Steve. “Have a good night, did you?”
“Steve sucked at ball tonight, completely embarrassed us.”
“Is Steve here now?” Ms. Davis asked.
“Yeah,” Brandon answered as he disappeared into his room.
Steve came into view.
Steve saw Ms. Davis sitting on the couch. She quickly placed a pillow in front of her. She cuddled it. Hiding.
“That bad a game?” she asked.
Steve forced a smile. “It was just one night. Your son wasn’t any better.”
Standing there awkwardly alone with Ms. Davis, rocking back from toes to heels, as Brandon was away to get the laptop, Steve asked, “Things go well today?”
“Sure, but…” She shifted to the edge of the couch.
In a momentary fantasy, an absurd dream of Steve’s, Ms. Davis removed the pillow to reveal the noticeable areolas that were pressed against her thin white t-shirt. “Do you like my tits? You saw them today. I didn’t mind, but since you saw them on the TV, you might as well see them for real. Want to touch? I’d love if you did.”
Then her true audible voice brought him back to life.
“… I want to reassure you that everything is fine. There were no problems today. I should not have been so dramatic. There were just some things you couldn’t see, that I didn’t want you to see. I can get sensitive when it comes to work materials. It’s an issue I have.”
He splurted out the words. “Yep, no problem, I wasn’t concerned, just for a moment. I didn’t expect to see you so worried.”
“I’ve got it all taken care of,” she said calmly.
Before he could think clearly, he asked, “What worried you so much?”
She looked down and cuddled deeper into the couch. “Just some numbers and design pictures for what we’re working on.”
Steve nodded, darting his eyes away. Maybe too much, too knowingly. Her demeanor, from face to toes, tensed, and she tightened her hug on the large pillow.
“Engineering firms do a lot of interesting designs?” he asked.
“Yes, we do. At least to us. Most people don’t care about—”
Brandon walked in with the laptop and interrupted. “Let’s check this out.”
“Check who out?” Steve asked.
“Huh?” Brandon asked.
“Not a good one.”
The two went to the kitchen to discuss the software updates and fixes. Later, walking to the front door, Steve saw Ms. Davis curled on the couch. Feet tucked under her. Those thighs bare. Her shirt extra long, a nighttime t-shirt. Inches more and her panties might be in view. She quickly adjusted the pillow, covering herself.
“Thanks for the computer fixes,” Steve said, and he left without a word to Brandon’s mom.
In his room, he had a hope, a distant and extremely unlikely chance, of finding a file folder of filled images and videos of Ms. Davis doing things. It was a one-in-a-million chance of a find, but, in a guy’s mind, that one miniscule chance remains alive until proven otherwise. And it was proven otherwise after some hard drive searches.
Steve leaned back in his desk chair and cursed. He was left with only dreams and three burned-on images of the woman.
Why was she naked like that? he wondered. Why were they on the TV, blown up so big?
Had she been sitting that afternoon in front of the TV, dreaming of sex, of a man who was boiling-over horny, begging for her? Or were there several men? There likely was three—the star Ms. Davis, the man with the cock, a photographer. Or was she demanded that she get naked?
Ms. Davis, a mother. Did other mothers have nude pictures of themselves too?
Or was someone asking for sexy pictures of Ms. Davis? Did she want to do the shoot or was she pressed into it? Did she like it? Was it an amateur photo shoot with only three pictures to result?
The image of her giving the blowjob intrigued him. He wondered if she enjoyed sucking dick, whether she was good, how many she had put in her mouth.
He paced in his room, talking to himself. A silent conversation, an alone strategy session.
He mumbled, “What do I do now? I saw something so spectacular today that I cannot not do something. I’ve got to visit again soon—tomorrow. She tried to explain everything and even apologize. That should mean something. She’s cool with me. She doesn’t know I saw anything.”
He closed his computer and went to bed.
After school the next day, Steve and Brandon hung out at Brandon’s place.
“I brought that hot new first-person shooter game,” Steve said.
“Let’s see if your skills came back after your bad game last night.”
Brandon headed to the basement to the console, but Steve stopped him. He asked to bring the console to the living room because the TV was bigger and better. Brandon agreed. “Mom’s not home yet.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. Probably at work or somewhere,” he said flippantly. He seemed perturbed that Steve would ask him such a question. “Grab the controllers; I’ll get the console and game.”
Steve walked up the stairs behind Brandon. “How long will we have before your mom gets back?”
“Dude, I don’t know. I don’t have her daily schedule.” He huffed at the odd inquiries about his mother.
“I’m just wondering, so her house isn’t a mess when she gets home.”
“When did you get so concerned about a clean house, especially my house?”
Steve only shrugged.
They shot each other in-game and completed missions together and competed against others in the multiplayer universe. For hours, the two guys rocked back and forth, side to side, in their floor gamer chairs. Over that time, several bags of potato chips had been opened and eaten, leaving crumbs were on the floor. Crumpled drink cans were on the table in front of the couch.
In the midst of one battle, Brandon wrongly anticipated an enemy’s move. And he was shot dead.
“Fuck! How did I … Why … Fuck!” He slammed down his controller, angry.
At the same time, the front door unlocked and the first to come in was a voice.
“Did I just hear what I thought I heard?” Ms. Davis trudged over the threshold with a handful of flimsy grocery bags. “Brandon, do you want me to wash your mouth out with soap?”
“It wasn’t me, Mom,” he lied. “It was Steve.”
“I know my son’s voice and I know Steve wouldn’t say that.”
In the midst of this, Steve jumped from his chair to get a few bags from her hands. His fingers and hers touched briefly but enough to trigger him. It was the first touch since the TV images.
“See how polite he is, Brandon? Thank you so much, Steve.” And she gave him a little kiss on the cheek to reproach her son.
He set the groceries on the countertop and turned back. Suddenly here was Ms. Davis directly in front of him. A loaf of bread, a squeezable bottle of mayonnaise and two tomatoes landed on the floor.
“Oh my …” She was startled.
“I’m sorry, Ms. …”
Before he could move, she went to her knees. She gathered the bread but had to reach under the table for the tomatoes.
Steve could not take his eyes off her large ass, packed tightly in her business slacks. The image of her in that picture came to mind. That lovely, lovely ass with her fingers gripping the flesh.
Steve knelt to grab the Hellmann’s. Ms. Davis backed out from under the table on her hands and knees. Her light blue blouse was hanging low, several buttons undone. Steve saw her cleavage, deep, and a white bra holding her nice tits. Again, he didn’t dart his gaze fast enough. However, she didn’t have the hands to adjust her outfit. Their view met briefly, but her eyes insinuated nothing more than being a friend’s mother who was picking up food from the floor.
“I could have gotten that,” Steve said, still looking at the woman who held now two tomatoes in her hand.
“It’s not a problem. Thank you though.”
The two remained eye to eye for a moment more. Then he stood and took her free hand to help her to her feet. When she stood up, he saw her breasts bounce lightly and it excited him. He thought, luckily, she was not on level with the hardness she had already caused in that moment.
Brandon walked into the kitchen then. He held several more bags of groceries.
“What’s up with you two?” he asked.
Steve dropped Ms. Davis’s hand.
“A few things fell to the floor,” she said, flippantly. “They’re fine. Nothing’s ruined. Just set those on the counter. I am going to change before I put them away.”
She left and huffed when she passed through the living room. “Clean this mess up,” she said sternly. “You know I don’t like to see the room like this.”
Brandon sluggishly agreed to clean up. But instead he plopped down into his gamer chair. Steve followed him.
A few minutes later, Ms. Davis returned and strode directly between the two sitting boys. She had shed her work outfit and seemed more comfortable in tapered jogging pants and matching shirt. The coral-colored clothing revealed her size and clung to the curves of her body that business suits hide. Steve raised his eyes in time to glimpse a peek at her skin between the pants and the shirt. Innocent any other time but terribly erotic at that moment.
He saw she had nicely painted toes in fluffy slippers. A whiff of sweet perfume trailed behind her. He looked back to see her butt wiggle with each step.
“Something back there?” Brandon interrupted Steve’s thoughts and elbowed him in his arm.
“Want to make sure my mess isn’t as obvious as yours. Don’t want your mother yelling at me.”
“She’s not gonna get on you, dude.” Brandon waved off the notion.
However, Steve let the words settle on his mind, even though it was out of context. Maybe she would get on me. He snickered.
“Nothing.” Steve went straight-faced.
Again, Ms. Davis passed through the two, disappeared down the hallway toward her office, and reappeared with a book. She plopped onto the couch. Steve noticed her body bounce so sexily. She adjusted her shirt and tucked her feet under her.
“What are you two playing?”
“An FPS.” Brandon didn’t divert his stare from the TV.
“We’re hunting down some criminals to take back our weapon supplies. Gonna play?” Steve offered.
Ms. Davis brushed off the idea, laughing.
But Steve prodded. “I’ll need to leave in a few minutes. I can give you some pointers while I’m here. Otherwise my expertise is gone for good.”
He rocked himself forward and out of his chair. He handed her his controller. “Play.”
She gave up the couch. She stood next to Steve. They brushed shoulders as she moved side to side, in tandem, with her player on the TV. He had a chance to touch her and watch her tits shake while pretending to watch the controller.
“You’re doing good,” Steve said.
“Thanks for lying,” she answered.
“Come on, Mom, you’re killing us,” Brandon said.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
The game ended. Mission failed.
“I’ve got to go,” Steve said.
“You sure? I could use you some more. You got obvious skills and experience,” Ms. Davis said.
Steve laughed off her comments, because he heard, once again, only the unintended innuendo.
“No, I’ve need to leave.”
“Yeah, don’t let your mom worry,” Ms. Davis said. She sat down in the gamer chair on the floor. Suddenly she was level with his cock, like the picture, but she was looking away.
“You out, dude? See you tomorrow. Be ready for Whitney.” Brandon glanced up at Steve and winked.
Ms. Davis interrupted them. “Is Whitney your girlfriend?”
“Sort of. Not really. We’re …”
“Treat her well. She’ll love you for it.” Ms. Davis offered her words of woman’s wisdom.
“He treats girls good. Better skills than basketball and video games,” Brandon said.
“If you have skills like you have on video games, then you’ll do fine.” Ms. Davis set down the controller. “I wish men my age would have skills that I want.”
Steve flushed red. Brandon gasped. Ms. Davis smiled.
“I will see you later.”
A few minutes after speeding home, his pants were on the floor of his bedroom. He was holding his dick but was imagining that Ms. Davis was stroking him. She was saying, “I want to get on you. I know you liked my little outfit. I hope I showed enough to make you hard tonight. I couldn’t do more because of Brandon. Come alone some time. I can get more relaxed for you.” And she stroked faster. “Maybe this will suffice for now.” “Yea, it’s … it’s so … it’s so good.” “I want you to know that I love sucking dick. That picture you saw of me was for just you. I think I would impress you with my skills and experience with a dick in my mouth.”
Steve bit his lip, a surge of pleasure raced throughout his body. A cord of cum landed on his chest. He was left breathing heavily. He slowly eased into a relaxed state.
The next week, Brandon asked to meet him at his house but warned that no one would be there when he arrived. Brandon had track practice and his mother was on a business trip for a few days. He gave him a key because of the time constraints to leave after Brandon arrived at home.
Steve unlocked the door and went inside. It was quiet and still. The sounds that were typical when he was there were gone. Strange to him. He considered this might be a chance to explore, to go where he may never go again.
He stepped into Ms. Davis’s bedroom. The bed was large with a gray paisley pattern comforter. Several layers of matching pillows at the headboard. The closet was closed and the tops of the chests were organized. Scanning the room, he presumed that an intimate toy—possibly a vibrator or more intriguingly a large dildo—was likely somewhere, hidden away. He daydreamed quickly: Ms. Davis actually laid naked in this bed, groaning and mumbling quietly, getting off. What if she was mumbling his own name? “Steve, you feel so good. I have wanted you for so long, more than any other man.”
Steve scanned under the bed, not touching anything for fear of giving away his scouting. Nothing. He opened the bedside nightstand. Essential oils, tissues, a journal that he avoided touching, body spray. A silk sleep mask seemed intriguing. He built up enough bravery to lift the mask. Under the sleep mask was a tiny thing he didn’t recognize. It was in the shape of a miniature oval linked by a cord to another oval. It had a button on it. Steve hoped. He pressed the button, which made the oval on the end buzz.
“Oh, shit!” He was astonished. It remained in his hands. He held it like a great treasure that was expected never to be found. Like a holy treasure, he kissed the buzzing end. He laid down the toy and replaced the mask gently, hoping to arrange it exactly as it was. Then he escaped from the room.
He sat on the couch. Before turning on the TV, he dreamed of seeing images of Ms. Davis nude and in action. Unfortunately, it was only a weather channel.
He had found enough for now though. The treasure weighed on his mind all day and for days afterward.
Nevertheless, he felt odd about scavenging her bedroom, so it remained a secret of his. Each time he saw Ms. Davis he was reminded that he had seen naked pictures of her and knew the toy that she played with. He knew so much about her. All the while, they remained his own secrets, his own fantasies. He always had his wishes and desires. However, he knew it was a one-in-a-million chance and luck wasn’t on his side. His imagination, though, was always there for him.
Claire Woodruff is a clerk in a legal office in Washington, DC. She began writing fiction in junior high out of summer boredom and never lost the love of it. She offsets a legal world with her imagination about risque aspects of life. She lives in Northern Virginia with her husband.