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Subject: <J.Boswell> RP -- A Love Deeply Missed
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                       A LOVE DEEPLY MISSED
                          by J. Boswell

(c)  Copyright July, 1992 by J BOSWELL, all rights, except those
     explicitly detailed below, ARE RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR.
     Electronic distribution (as a text file on an "adults only"
     site) is permitted without alteration, but inclusion in any
     type of "publication" offered for sale (eg., book, magazine,
     CD-ROM, etc.), or "subscription-only" sites requires the
     author's explicit permission.

This work of fiction is intended to be read by adults only.  The
author has uploaded it only to known "Adults, only" sites, and
requests that you exercise the same discretion.  Also, this is a
fantasy -- in real life, please protect your lover and yourself
by practicing safe sex.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                  Baby in a world without pity
            Do you think what I'm asking's too much?
               I just want to feel you in my arms
            And share a little of that human touch...
                                   (from "Human Touch"
                                    ...all lyrics by
                                    Bruce Springsteen)
     God!  How I hate my dad!
* * * * *
     I didn't always hate him, of course.  In fact, he used to be
the greatest guy in my life.  I just can't believe what he did to
me, and he's a son-of-a-bitch for doing it and I hate him for it!
* * * * *
     Mom died when I was in the eighth grade.  It was the "Big C"
and there wasn't much they could do for her by the time they
found it.  Dad spent every possible moment caring for her and
taking care of me.  He was totally devastated when the ordeal was
     If anything, dad and I got even closer during that time, and
it stayed that way.  
     He had always been my father, of course, but he became my
friend, too.  I could, and did, talk to him about everything --
school, sports, friends, girls, girlfriends, drinking, drugs,
sex, safe sex -- everything.  He was busy running his own
financial investment firm, but he always took the time to attend
every one of my games.  Even during my senior year, when I played
on three varsity teams at my small high school, he was always
there, for both home and away games.  I could always count on
     The two of us got very comfortable living together after mom
died, and I offered to stay in town for college and live at home.
I didn't like the idea of leaving him alone.  But he insisted and
we went campus-hopping, and he encouraged me to apply to the
schools I really wanted to attend.  He told me he'd be fine alone
as long as I called home every so often, even if all I said was
"send money."
     Everything was just perfect between us until the day we were
packing me up to leave for college.  That was when it all began
to change -- and I didn't even know it.
* * * * *
     Dad rented a cargo van and we spent the early morning
filling it with my clothes, phone, microwave, PC, bike, and
stereo.  All the stuff a Freshman needs at college.
     We took a break and dad suggested that I should get a
haircut from someone I trusted before I go, since I didn't know
how soon I'd be home again.  
     I agreed and was on the phone, making an appointment for
later that morning when dad asked me to get him one with his
cutter at the same time.  His stylist was booked for the day, but
the receptionist said my cutter had two open appointments
together.  Dad shrugged and said "fine."  We both showered and
drove to Michael's Salon.  Little did I know what was about to
     After I checked in at the receptionist's desk, I got my hair
washed and I threaded my way through the chairs in the large
salon.  I rounded the corner into the last partition, and there
she was. 
* * * * *
     How can I ever tell you about Stacy?
     Let me try by going back to the beginning...
* * * * *
     The three of us, my parents and I, had been coming to
Michael's Salon since I was a little kid.  My mom started with
her hair stylist at another salon, and followed her when she
moved to Michael's.  My dad and I were soon going to Michael's
for our haircuts, too.  It was just easier that way.
     I fell in love with Stacy the very first time I saw her. 
She was 16 years old and still in high school, but she was
already working around the place, doing odd-jobs and helping the
other stylists cutting and setting hair.  She later told me that
she had wanted to be a hairstylist as long as she could remember.
     I was only 10 years old, but Stacy took my breath away. 
Beautiful is not quite the word to describe her face.  She is
exquisite.  Perfect, smooth, translucent skin, halfway between
pink and white.  Full, pink lips.  A model's high cheekbones. 
Green eyes that radiate as if there are bright lights behind
them.  A long neck.  Thick, heavy hair, too blonde to call red,
too red to call blonde, always in a stylish short cut.  
     At 10, just her face was enough to send me into delirious
daydreams; but, soon enough, I noticed that her body was as
perfect as her face.  Large breasts, tiny waist, round hips,
curvy long legs.  I would almost hyperventilate just watching her
walk by.  And I wasn't the only one staring at her while she
worked, all the men at the salon stared at Stacy.
* * * * *
         You're dancin' with him he's holding you tight
           I'm standing here waitin' to catch your eye
           Your hand's on his neck as the music sways
                   All my illusions slip away
                                        ("Man's Job")
* * * * *
     She never noticed me, of course.  I was too young, I was
just a kid.  But I kept tabs on her life by listening to the
other women talk and gossip.  Right after she graduated from high
school she married her longtime sweetheart -- the typical high
school jock hero and I was insanely jealous of him -- and she
began working at the salon full-time.  She was soon pregnant and
had a boy, and then another baby boy.  It may be an old wives'
tale, but when she was pregnant, she was so glowingly beautiful
it almost hurt my eyes to look at her.
     Finally, when I was 16 and could drive myself to the salon,
I intentionally waited until my regular stylist was on vacation
and made an appointment with Stacy.  I remember sitting in her
chair for the first time, feeling her touch me, and almost
passing out from the sublime pleasure of it.
     Sitting there, I was shocked to discover that she was quiet
and shy and introverted.  I had assumed that any girl as
beautiful as she was would be a real extrovert, ready to joke
around and party.  Her shyness only endeared her to me more.
     I never went back to my old stylist, and I looked forward to
my appointment with Stacy every four weeks.  Eventually, we
talked and joked around.  We became more than friendly -- I
thought we became good friends.
     She never said a word to me about it while her marriage was
falling apart, but her husband drank and wouldn't hold a job. 
After he slapped Stacy around a couple of times, she took the
kids, moved out, and filed for divorce.
* * * * *
          It takes a leap of faith to get things going
        It takes a leap of faith you gotta show some guts
          It takes a leap of faith to get things going
                  In your heart you must trust
                                        ("Leap of Faith")
* * * * *
     That summer before I left for college, she was 25, divorced,
the mother of two little boys, and more beautiful than ever.  I
was almost 19 and I was achingly in love with her, and ready to
say something to her about it.
     That hot day in August, sitting in her chair, ready to move
away from home for the next nine months, I was almost giddy with
anticipation.  I wanted her to know how I felt about her, but I
didn't know what to say.  I knew there was an age difference, but
I wasn't asking her to marry me (yet!).  I wasn't just after sex,
either.  I had dated enough girls to know that I enjoyed the hell
out of sex, but I wanted more than just sex.  And I wanted that
"more" (whatever it is) with Stacy.
     Trying to keep my voice steady, and my delivery light, I
said, "I'm leaving for college today.  After I'm done here."
     "Oh, Brian, you're going to have a ball."
     "Yeah, I know, but I'll probably get homesick."
     Stacy laughed, "Yeah, for about all of ten minutes, before
you fall asleep tonight."
     "No, I mean it.  I'll miss a lot about home.  I'll miss
you."  I hoped my voice sounded as normal as I tried for it to
     "Sure you will.  You won't find anyone up there to cut your
hair as well as I do."
     I forgot about remaining cool.  Instead, I blurted out, "Can
I write or call you, Stacy?"  I felt like I was 12 years old
again, asking a girl out for my first date.
     "Brian, look at me."
     Our eyes locked in the mirror.  She was standing behind me
with a wistful almost-smile on her face.  "Brian, you're going
away to college and you're scared, but you're going to be fine. 
In a week you'll have hundreds of new friends and at least a
dozen new girlfriends.  Trust me."
     I knew then that it wasn't the time to push, so I backed
off, "Oh, sure.  You're right.  I'm just afraid I'll go into some
hair salon up there and walk out looking like a Marine recruit." 
I forced a weak chuckle and let the subject drop.
     Embarrassed at my futile attempt to express my feelings to
Stacy, I waited in the car while she cut my dad's hair.  He
walked out with the best haircut he'd ever had and got in the car
telling me Stacy wished me good luck at school.
     At home, we jumped in the truck and I went away to college.
* * * * *
     Stacy was right.  I did love college.  I didn't have to work
all that hard to get decent grades.  I made great friends and we
all pledged the same Fraternity -- and all of us got in.  And the
girls?  Well, the girls were great.  "Lack-of-nookie" was not a
problem on campus.
     I stayed in touch with dad over the phone, but I was busy
enough that I wasn't planning to get home until Thanksgiving.  A
couple of times when I called home, I got the machine.  When I
next talked to dad, I'd kid him and ask if he had a date with
     He'd always chuckle and say, "Not really a date, son.  Just
     In the whole time from mom's death until I left for college,
I'll bet he didn't have "just dinner" with women five times.  He
just never dated, and I was glad to hear he wasn't sitting home
alone every night.
     Near the end of October, just after mid-terms, dad called
and said he was really missing me and asked if he could visit.  I
said "sure!"
     After an enjoyable lunch that Saturday, while walking around
campus, dad told me he had been dating someone.
     "That's great, dad.  It's about time."
     "She's a lot younger than me, Brian.  How do you feel about
     I thought about it.  Dad was a great guy, good dresser, and
very charming, but he resembled the "Pillsbury Dough-boy" more
than a male-model.  Balding, 42, and on the short and round
side, I assumed he wasn't dating Michelle Pfeiffer.
     "I don't have a problem with that, dad.  Has she graduated
from high school, yet?"
     He smiled, then frowned.  "Brian, I shouldn't be dragging
this out like this.  I just didn't want to drop it on you cold."
     "Drop what?"
     "Brian, I'm dating Stacy."
     I felt my face freeze without expression and dad must have
assumed I didn't know who he was talking about.
     "Stacy.  Stacy Woodlea, from the hair salon," he said.
     I was angry, and I couldn't keep it out of my voice, "I know
who you mean.  I know who Stacy Woodlea is, dad.  When you said
young, you meant it, didn't you?"
     "I knew you'd be surprised, Brian.  We were surprised, too. 
It just happened.  She gave me such a good haircut that day I
went with you, I went back to her for my next one.  We were
talking, mostly about you.  I was her last appointment of the
day.  She mentioned she was starving, and I said I was hungry,
too; and, out of the blue, I asked her if she'd like to have
dinner with me.  I still can't believe she said yes, but she did,
and we've been seeing a lot of each other these last six weeks. 
We just hit it off."
     "I'll just bet you hit it off!"  I was speechless.  I knew I
had to regain control of myself, but for the first time in my
life I felt something twist inside me and I knew it was that sick
feeling called "heartache."
     I calmed down and blamed my reaction on surprise.  Dad
accepted that excuse and we walked and talked about other things
for another hour before he finally left.
     I really didn't begrudge him meeting someone nice -- hell,
he deserved that -- I just couldn't believe it was Stacy.  My
Stacy!  Of all the women in the world!  How could he do that to
me?  I hated him for what he was doing and would never forgive
him.  And her?  What could she possibly see in him?  How could
she go out with him and tell me not to write or call her?  Bitch!
     They had only been dating a few weeks, I thought, maybe it
would soon end when they discovered they didn't have much in
     I didn't sleep well that night.  And it didn't get any
better over the next several nights.
* * * * *
              ...The music plays you take his hand
         I watch how you touch him as you start to dance
                     And I wish I were blind
                  When I see you with your man.
                              ("I Wish I Were Blind")
* * * * *
     Much to my discomfort, we had Thanksgiving dinner at Stacy's
apartment.  It was obvious she and dad were crazy about each
other and he was crazy about her two little boys, Robby and Ben. 
Stacy acted like she was really glad to see me and tried to spoil
me the whole time we were there.  I wondered -- why couldn't she
see through my eyes what was in my heart?  I felt on the edge of
tears for all four days.  I couldn't wait to get back to school.
     Seeing them together over Christmas break was too hard for
me to take, so I spent as much time as I could out of the house
or up in my room.
     I still hoped that they would soon discover they had too
little in common, but it didn't work out that way.  Hell, Stacy
even loved my dad's old records, always listening to the Four
Tops, Marvin Gaye, Smokey, and all those other Motown artists.  I
couldn't fault her taste for the old stuff, but I couldn't
believe how she hated the more modern groups I listened to.  She
only wrinkled her pretty nose when I mentioned the Red Hot Chili
Peppers, EMF, and The Blur.
     I watched them together and wondered what the attraction
was.  For dad, it was easy -- Stacy was absolutely stunning, and
there wasn't a heterosexual man in the world who wouldn't want to
date her.  For her, the only thing I could figure was dad offered
her security.  He liked her boys and didn't drink or gamble and
made a nice income.  He was safe.  Big fucking deal -- safe!
* * * * *
     Soon after I got back to school, after Christmas break, dad
called and told me Stacy and the boys had moved into our house. 
They were definitely a "couple" and it didn't look like the
romance would end very soon.  
     On Valentine's Day, dad and Stacy asked me to be their best
man and they waited until I got home for spring break to get
married in the courthouse.  After the quick ceremony we had
lunch, dropped Robby and Ben off at their Granny's, and took a
limo to the airport.  I was off to Cancun to meet my Frat
brothers, and they left for their honeymoon.  
     My father was honeymooning in Hawaii with my Stacy!  
     It was too unreal to contemplate -- my dad with the same
Stacy I had had numerous adolescent "honeymoon" dreams (some
wet!) about!   Some twists of fate can be very, very cruel.  I
stayed drunk for a week.
     At the end of the school year, Dad brought Stacy with him
when I moved out of the dorms.  Of course, my friends could not
believe that this unbelievably prime young woman ("a real, major
babe") in the pull-over and shorts was my new step-mother.  I
heard hundreds of lewd comments that day, and I couldn't much
blame them -- she DID look hot.  They were all drooling and
dragging their tongues on the ground as their hungry eyes
followed her every move.
* * * * *
              Same old faces it's the same old town
           What once was laughs is draggin' me now...
                                        ("The Long Goodbye")
* * * * *
     Ever since Christmas break, I had been trying to prepare
myself for moving back home for the summer, but nothing prepared
me for the reality of it.  
     Everybody was a little nervous at dinner that first night
home, except Robby and Ben -- two great little kids -- who
thought it would be "cool" to have a new, big brother home for
the summer.  Stacy and dad seemed to be keeping a close eye on me
to see how I would adjust into their lives.  After dinner, I set
up my SuperNintendo for the boys and stayed in my room,
unpacking.  I went to bed early, thinking about my dad and Stacy
sleeping (and other things!) together just down the hall.
     Not quite used to the feel of my old bed, I woke up very
early on my first full day home.  On the way back to the bed
after taking a piss, I looked out my bedroom window.  
     At dinner, dad had mentioned that he had turned on the pool
heater and my first view out my bedroom window was Stacy getting
out of the pool in a tiny white bikini, standing at the edge
squeezing the water out of her hair.  
     My jaw dropped to my knees.  As magnificent as her body
looked in clothes, it couldn't even hint at its total sensuality
in the lusty flesh.  
     Her breasts were high and firm and round -- really round! 
Before she wrapped herself in a big towel, I could see her
nipples blatantly pressing their hard outline through the thin
cloth of the tiny white triangles.  Her stomach was flat and
firm-looking and I didn't see any stretch marks as I followed her
beautiful skin down over her hips to her cloth-covered pussy. 
Her thighs were two perfect, curved pillars of ivory.
     Without really noticing what I was doing, my hand drifted to
my raging morning hard-on and jerked it only the few times
necessary to have my cum shooting on to the window and down the
     I stood there, catching my breath, and watched my smiling
dad walk out to Stacy and hand her a cup of steaming coffee. 
Stacy smiled, put the cup on the table and opened her big towel. 
My father stepped close to her as she closed the towel around
both of them.  They kissed.  God, how I hated him!
     I stepped away from the window to find a tissue, took one
last look at dad and Stacy making out on the patio and realized
that I wouldn't be the only one that might have to adjust to my
being home for the summer.
     God, I wanted her so badly!
* * * * *
         If the angels are unkind or the season is dark
                        Or if in the end
                      Love just falls apart
                 Then here's to our destruction
                Baby let me be your soul driver.
                                        ("Soul Driver")
* * * * *
     Dad worked at his office just about every day except Sunday
and Stacy still cut hair three days a week.  I offered to watch
the boys while she worked, but they liked going to their
dayschool those days.
     So, three days a week I had the house to myself.  At first,
I OD'd on rented videos, catching up on all the movies I missed
while I was away at school.  I swam, lifted weights, rode my
mountain bike, and hung around with some friends from high
school.  It was a "no pressure" summer, to say the least.
     One rainy weekday, while wandering around the empty house, I
found myself in dad and Stacy's bedroom.  At first just casually
looking around, I started snooping through drawers and closets,
not really looking for anything, just being nosy.  Other than an
open box of condoms and a half-used tube of K-Y jelly, there
wasn't anything interesting on dad's side.  
     I then drifted over to Stacy's dresser.  Her warm, sexy
fragrance hit me full in the nose when I opened a top drawer.  It
was full of panties, of all sizes and shapes and colors.  There
were lacy white ones and tiny red ones and small blue ones and
black ones that had no back and only a tiny eye-patch front. 
They were all pretty and sexy and my mind went into overdrive as
I thought about Stacy wearing these silky things.  I wanted to
see her in and out of every one of them!
     My cock was straining against the fabric at my crotch so I
lifted the leg of my shorts up and over my hard-on.  I took a
pair of her red, satin panties out of the drawer and placed them
in my hand and wrapped them around my cock.  I shuddered with
their smooth coolness against my hot, tender skin.  I held my
hand still.  I didn't want to cum, yet.  
     The next drawer I opened revealed little balls of pantyhose.
But the next was filled with bras -- white and colored, full-cup
and half-cup, soft and underwired.  A tag on one gave the size as
"36-D."  I was hot and my cock was swelling even harder in my
     I moved across the large dresser.  Other drawers had blouses
and tops and socks.  Finally, all the way on the right, the top
drawer was filled with garterbelts and stockings.  The thought of
Stacy standing naked, except for the black garterbelt and black
seamed stockings I was looking at were almost enough stimuli for
me to cover the top of the dresser with my spurting cum.
     The two drawers under that one were filled with sexy
nighties, teddies, camisoles, slips, and frilly things I didn't
even know the name for.  Stacy dressed right out of "Victoria's
Secret" for my father!  That bastard!
     I was angry and jealous and horny and hurt.  I didn't blame
her -- hell, she's young and beautiful and has a fantastic body,
she should wear this kind of stuff -- I just didn't think it was
fair!  My hand still held the red panties against my steel-hard
dick.  I wanted to jerk-off right there, all over her silks and
     Then I saw the bottle of face cream on the dresser.  Stacy's
face cream.  I almost laughed out loud when I thought of the
"cream" she was soon going to be rubbing into her pretty face.
     I unscrewed the pump-top and held the bottle to my cockhead.
As I jerked my hand up and down on my dick I thought about Stacy
pushing down on the pump, filling her hand with a glob, and
smearing it all over her face.  That was exactly where I wanted
my cum -- smeared all over her beautiful face!
     I began to tremble and felt my orgasm building.  I pressed
the tip of my cock to the opening of the bottle.  With a gasp, I
began shooting a large load of cum into the bottle.  My legs
weakened and I sat down hard on the carpet.  I didn't lose a
drop!  When I was finally through, I replaced the pump-top and
shook the bottle.  I replaced it on the dresser and left the
* * * * *
     On another expedition into their room I found a bin of
bathing suits in their big walk-in closet.  She had tons of
bathing suits, even one neon-yellow bikini that wasn't much more
than three tiny patches over the nipples and cunt and a thong for
the ass -- there was no way she could wear that one without a
radical trim-job of her pussy hairs!  
     I also found the little white bikini I had seen her in that
first morning home.  I never saw Stacy in that bikini or any of
the other tiny ones, again, for the rest of the summer.  At least
when I was around, Stacy always wore plain and conservative one-
piece bathing suits at the pool.
     But I didn't care.  I was getting my kicks in other ways.
     Every chance I had, I jerked off into everything I could
find that Stacy used on her skin -- face cream, body lotion,
suntan lotion, sunscreen, moisturizer.  I got huge erections in
the pool as I watched her rubbing suntan lotion all over her
chest and shoulders and neck and face, knowing that there was
almost as much of my cum in the bottle as there was lotion.
     Once, when I was in the kitchen, fixing a burger for Stacy
who was out by the pool, I quickly jerked off on the roll and
mixed my goo with the goo of the ketchup and mayonnaise.  She
loved it!  And I loved watching her eat every bite of it!  
     I even tried spying on Stacy.  I wanted to see her naked, of
course.  But I could never work out the logistics.  On the
weekdays that she was home, so were the boys.  We were never
alone in the house together.  She never locked the bedroom door,
but it was too large a bedroom to open the door, cross the room
and try and sneak a peek at her in the tub or shower.  I even
climbed what I thought was a well-placed tree in the back of the
yard, but the way the blinds covered the windows, there was no
good view into their bedroom or bath, even with binoculars.
     At night, after all the lights were out and the bedroom
doors were closed, I would creep down the hall and listen to
their muffled moans and groans through their door.  They fucked
almost every night, sometimes for hours.  My father was a pig and
I was beginning to wonder if Stacy was a slut!
     Living there, hiding my feelings for Stacy, became more and
more difficult.  Soon, I was very anxious for school to start
* * * * *
     In July, Dad and Stacy and the boys spent two weeks at the
shore.  They all begged me to go, but I declined.  Instead, I
stayed home alone.  But I wasn't lonely.  I partied, having
friends over, drinking, smoking dope, and getting laid.  There
was no shortage of willing high school pussy that summer and a
good time was had by all.
     It was during these two weeks that I discovered Stacy's
"slut stash."
     On another one of my search missions in their bedroom, I
checked out her large walk-in closet.  I had already investigated
the bin in her closet with all of her bathing suits.  That day I
was methodically checking the others.  They were mostly filled
with winter clothes and I hit the jackpot under a pile of
sweaters.  On the bottom of the bin I found all of their sex
     There was a set of real-looking handcuffs, what looked like
a set each of wrist and ankle manacles, long silk scarves, some
old men's ties, two pairs of black crotchless panties, a cut-out
bra, fishnet stockings, and a red cut-out nightie straight from
Frederick's of Hollywood.  There were also two dildos.  One was a
normal, white torpedo-shaped vibrator.  The other was a soft,
pink thing that resembled a big prick, with a butt-plug built in.
     I smelled the dildos, but they were clean and odorless.  I
was hoping they smelled of her cunt.  I held them in my hands,
and then turned both of them on.  As they buzzed to life, I
thought of them being buried up Stacy's cunt and ass.  Did she
put on shows for my dad?  Did he shove them into her?  Or did she
use them when he wasn't around?  Maybe she was a cock-hungry
broad and couldn't get enough fuck-meat from the old man.
     I turned them off and replaced everything back the way I
found it.  The thought of Stacy in the cut-out nightie,
handcuffed and tied down on the bed, with the dildos shoved up
inside of her was almost too much to think about!  My cock was so
hard, I could have driven nails with it.  I looked around the
bedroom and added another big load of cum to her hand cream.
     I paid a maid service to clean the house the day before they
returned from the shore.  Except for the lowered liquor level
behind my father's bar, everything was ship-shape and looked
good.  They all came home and the summer routine resumed.
* * * * *
     In August, dad left to attend a 2-day tax seminar in
Washington, D.C.  Since it was only overnight and Stacy had to
work one of the days, he went alone.
     After a quiet dinner, Stacy got the boys ready for bed.  I
did the dishes and then watched some TV in the family room.  When
I went upstairs, the boys' bedroom door was already closed.  I
peeked in and saw Ben fast asleep and Robby engrossed in a game
on the SuperNintendo.
     I tiptoed down the hall to dad and Stacy's bedroom door and
knocked lightly.  She didn't answer.  I gripped the doorknob and
turned it slowly.  When I could open the door a crack, I heard
the water running in their bathroom.  This was my chance!
     I slowly opened the door farther, until I could step into
the bedroom.  I could hear the shower water and Stacy humming
through the open door into the master-bath.  The carpet was thick
and I wasn't worried about being heard; but the oversize shower-
stall was at the far end of the bathroom, so I had to walk all
the way to the open bathroom door to see her.
     It was worth it.
     The glass in the shower-stall is clear and I had a perfect
view of Stacy in all her naked beauty.  Her pink flesh was
glowing in the steaming water.  She rinsed the water off her arms
and then began soaping her chest, and I thought I would die.  Her
soapy hands covered her high, round tits with lather and then
moved down her flat stomach as she soaped over her tiny patch of
curly red pussy hair and moved between her thighs.  I felt myself
gulp and was afraid she heard it, too.
     I was losing control.  I had loved her and lusted for her
for years, but this moment was different.  I didn't care that she
was older than me, and that she was married to my father, and
that what I was thinking was wrong -- I just knew how badly I
wanted her at that moment.
     The phone rang.
     I froze.  
     Stacy cocked her head in the shower.  On the second ring she
turned to look through the glass; and she saw me standing at the
door to her bathroom, staring at her naked body.
     I ran out of their bedroom and fled to my own bedroom.  I
couldn't believe my bad luck!  To be caught so flatfooted, so
obvious, gawking at her.  I had no idea how she would handle this
situation.  I just wanted to disappear until it was all over.
* * * * *
     About an hour later, there was a light knock at my door.
     "Come in."
     Stacy peeked around the door, "Hello, Brian.  May I come
     "Sure.  Have a seat."  I pointed to my desk chair.  I was
down to my shorts and in bed, under the sheets.  
     Stacy was wearing a long green robe and green slippers --
very modest.  Instead of sitting at my desk, she sat on the edge
of my bed and took my hand in hers.  "Do you have anything to
say, Brian?"
     I could feel myself blushing.  "Yeah, Stacy, I'm sorry.  I
know it was wrong."
     She smiled and patted my hand gently.  Her voice was soft,
not angry, "You're damned right it was wrong.  Whatever made you
do it?"  
     At least she wasn't screaming and yelling at me.  "Um,
Stacy, you have to realize what you look like.  I'm a normal guy.
I just went too far."
     "All right, Brian, I accept your apology, but you have to
promise me that it will never happen again."
     I nodded.
     "I'm already self-conscious around you and if we get hung-
up about what happened tonight, it won't get any easier.  I know
this hasn't been easy for you, Brian.  I know you and your dad
are really close, and I don't intend to come between you."
     "It's not that.  I'm not concerned with you coming between
us."  I should have just kept my mouth shut.
     Stacy looked down at me with real surprise in her face,
"You're not?  There's something going on and I thought that was
it.  What is it, Brian?"
     "It's you!  Come on, Stacy, you have to know how I feel
about you!"  There, I said it.  It was finally out in the open
and there was no going back.
     "I... I...  Brian, what are you saying?"
     I almost yelled it, "I love you, Stacy.  I've loved you for
years!"  I went on to tell her everything I had felt and thought
about her since I was ten years old.
     Stacy's pretty green eyes filled with tears as I talked. 
Finally when I finished she squeezed my hand, "Oh, Brian, I'm so
sorry!  I never meant to hurt you.  I never suspected.  You're so
much younger-"
     "Not as much younger than you than you're younger than dad!"
     "But I was married, and had two kids.  You're still in
school, dating girls.  We are in different worlds, Brian.  We
always were."
     "None of that matters to me, Stacy.  Remember the day I left
for college?  I was trying to tell you that day.  I wanted to
write or call you, but you said `no.'  And then you started
dating my father!"
     "Brian, I'm so sorry.  I didn't know.  But I love your
father and he's the best thing that has ever happened to me in my
life.  I'm not sorry about that.  I have you to thank -- when I
met him that day, I felt like I knew him already, just from the
way you talked about him all those years I cut your hair.  He's
everything, and more, you told me he was."
     "Oh, so I only have myself to thank for you marrying my
father?  So now you're my step-mother."  I knew I was on the edge
and not making sense.
     "Brian, we don't have to be step-son and step-mom, but I
hope we can always be friends."
     I couldn't hold my tears back.  There wasn't anything else
to say, anyway.  I nodded and began crying.  Stacy pulled me to
her shoulder and let me wet her robe with my tears.  I finally
regained some control and pulled away from her.  Stacy kissed me
on the forehead and left the room, turning out the light and
closing the door behind her.
* * * * *
                 Before you choose your wish son
                     You better think first
              With every wish there comes a curse.
                                   ("With Every Wish")
* * * * *
     I thought and worried and pined and tossed and turned for
what seemed like hours.  But I guess I eventually fell asleep
because something woke me up.  My room was pitch black and I
couldn't see my hand in front of my face but something was
different and I couldn't guess what it was.
     Then I knew.  I wasn't alone on the bed.
     I smelled her.  "Stacy?"
     "Shhh, Brian.  No talk.  Just let me do this."
     Her cool hand brushed over my warm, naked chest.  I could
feel my nipples become taut at her light touch.  Then she shifted
on the bed and her soft lips covered mine.  I could taste the
Scotch on her lips.
     If it was a dream, I didn't want to wake up!
     I rolled to her and pulled her tightly against me.  I
crushed my lips to hers and thrust my tongue into her mouth, past
her teeth.  My already-hard cock had slipped through the slit in
my boxer shorts and pressed against her thigh.  My hand shot to
her breast and I grabbed at its fullness.
     She pulled away, breathing hard, "Brian, slow down.  Calm
down, Dear.  Let me!"
     I didn't want to scare her away.  I laid back on the bed and
let her do what she wanted with me.
     I felt her moist lips and warm, wet tongue work their way
down my throat and over my chest, stopping on my nipple.  As she
licked its hardness, her hand slid over my stomach and down to my
erection.  Her hand was cold as she wrapped it around my burning
flesh.  I could hardly breathe.  This was really happening!
     Her head soon followed her hand.  Within seconds of feeling
her lips surround my cockhead I began trembling.  She gently
cupped my balls in one hand and squeezed the base of my prick
with the other.  I was deep in her licking-sucking-loving-fucking
mouth when I began to cum.
     I was cumming!  I was cumming in Stacy's mouth!  
     The joy of the situation intensified my climax and I shot
time after time into her waiting mouth.
     Finally, I was finished and couldn't cum anymore.  I felt
Stacy's mouth lick and suck my cock clean and then she climbed up
beside me.  We kissed -- soft, warm, tender lover-kisses.  She
had been wonderful, and I told her so as she snuggled close
against me.
     I rolled over to face her and we kissed and caressed, almost
purring to each other.  To my surprise -- and delight! -- my cock
throbbed to life, again, in only a few short minutes.
     Stacy giggled as she felt it pressing between her thighs. 
We didn't say a word.  She lifted her leg over my hip and shifted
on the bed and I felt my cock slide into her.
     I was about to fuck Stacy!
     I started to roll over on her but she pushed me back and was
soon straddling my hips as my dick slid deeper and deeper into
her hot pussy.  
     I wanted to see her.  I reached up to the headboard and
turned on my small reading lamp.  She smiled and reached down for
the hem of her short, green silky nightgown and lifted it over
her head.
     She was magnificent!  Her big boobs were bouncing up and
down as she fucked me and I couldn't resist the urge to grab
handfuls of that firm flesh.  Her nipples were hard little stones
abrading the flesh of my palms.  She leaned back, placing her
hands on my thighs and using them to lift her hips higher as she
fucked me.
     I was in heaven!  I didn't want to ever cum.  I didn't want
to ever stop.
     Finally, Stacy began to cum, moaning, "oh, Brian, oh, I
never... Oh, Brian...  I never..." over and over.
     As she started to come down, I slammed my hips into hers and
took her up and over, again.  
     Again, and again, I kept her cumming, until I felt ready to
blow, myself.  When it happened, I was afraid I broke something
inside of me.  I had never had a cum like that in my life!
     She collapsed down on me and I fell asleep with my dick
still buried up her cunt, her tits crushed on my chest, and a
smile on my lips.
* * * * *
     I woke up alone, with daylight leaking around the curtains
into the room.  My first thought was that it had all been a
wonderful wetdream.  (My second thought was that I knew exactly
where I wanted to bury my morning hard-on!)
     But it had really happened.  I had told Stacy I loved her,
and now I knew she loved me too!  I didn't know how we'd work
this out with dad.  He'd have to see the difference in ages was
the thing.  I was just sorry that they had actually gotten
married.  That meant going through a divorce, but there was no
other way, it had to be done.  
     As I showered, I thought about our future.  I'd transfer to
a local college and get a part-time job.  Stacy would probably
have to go back to full-time in the salon until I graduated. 
We'd get an apartment big enough for the two of us and the boys. 
We could make it.  I was sure of it.  It wouldn't be like living
in this house, but we were young and in love.
     I dressed and went downstairs.  The boys were finishing
their breakfasts in front of the TV and Stacy was cleaning the
kitchen.  I walked up behind her and reached my arms around her,
filling my hands with her tits.
     She pulled away from me and held her hands up in front of
her, "No, Brian!  Stop!"
     "Stacy, what's wrong?  Everything'll be alright."
     She still held one hand up like a cop directing traffic. 
"Yes, everything will be alright, Brian.  But in spite of last
night, not because of it."
     I felt my throat tightening, "What do you mean?"
     Her eyes filled with tears, but her voice was coldly level,
"I mean last night was the biggest mistake I've ever made in my
life, Brian.  I should nev-"
     "No, Stacy!  It wasn't a mistake!  It was beautiful!"
     "Let me finish, Brian.  It was a mistake.  It was all my
fault, and I'm sorry I complicated your life like I have.  It was
     "I couldn't be happier, Stacy!  I love you!"
     Now she broke into sobs but continued, "That's just what I
mean, Brian.  I wish last night never happened.  I felt your
hurt.  It tore me apart inside.  I drank too much.  I wanted to
make you feel better, but I picked the worst way I could to do
that.  I wasn't thinking right.  Don't you see, Brian?  What
happened, shouldn't have, and can never, NEVER happen again."
     She just stood there, looking at me.  I felt my chest
tighten.  My breathing was shallow and rapid.  "You're just upset
now, Stacy.  Maybe a little guilty.  It'll get better.  After we
tell dad, we--"
     "NO!  We will never tell your father ANYthing!"
     "Stacy, we have to!  We're in love--"
     "I love your father, Brian!  Can't you understand that? 
Being his wife is what I want to be!  
     "Last night isn't your fault, Brian, it's mine.  But it
would crush your dad to know.  I will never hurt him again,
Brian.  As far as he's concerned -- as far as I'm concerned --
last night never happened!"
     Now, I saw where this was going, and I didn't like it, at
all.  "So, what was I?  Some charity fuck?  Give me a little
piece of your ass and I'll be all better?  That's bullshit,
Stacy!  I saw your face last night, and I felt what happened to
your body.  You got off on it as much as I did.  Maybe more!"
     She broke out in a full-fledged cry and ran from the
kitchen.  I followed her upstairs.  Her bedroom door was locked
and she wouldn't answer my calls and knocking.
     I went into my room to do my own thinking.
* * * * *
            At night I get down on my knees and pray
            Our love will make that other man go away
                   But he'll never say goodbye
                        Two faces have I
                                        ("Two Faces")
* * * * *
     What was I going to do?
     When dad got home that night, it was like nothing out of the
ordinary had happened.  His loving family was awaiting his
return.  His beautiful, sexy wife had his favorite dinner waiting
and his three sons were all happy to see him.
     I tried, but I never was able to make eye contact with
Stacy, again.
* * * * *

                     I wanna read your mind
                  To know just what I've got in
                    This new thing I've found
                      So tell me what I see
                    When I look in your eyes
                        Is that you baby
                  Or just a brilliant disguise
                                   ("Brilliant Disguise")
* * * * *
     Over the rest of August, when dad or the boys were around,
Stacy and I developed a relationship where we were cool but
cordial.  When we found ourselves alone together in a room, we
didn't talk and one of us left in a hurry -- usually it was her.
     The summer ended, and I packed up for college.  Dad and I
moved me back to campus.  
* * * * *
     That was five years ago.  I never went home to live, again. 
The following summer I got a job on campus and the two after
that I worked internships out of town.  I see the family for
most holidays, but they are short visits.  They have their life
and I have mine.  I still occasionally think about those
handcuffs, manacles, and dildos.
     Dad's happy and I guess I'm happy for him.  He has a loving,
beautiful wife and four great sons (Yeah, dad adopted Robby and
Ben, and Stacy gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy,
Jeremy, three years ago.).  
     Yes, he really has the life.  I guess there's only a few
things that would spoil it for him.  One definitely would be for
him to find out about that night of total sexual abandon and
passion Stacy and I shared that time he was away.  Maybe another,
a little farther down the list, would be to find out how often I
enjoy masturbating to the nude Polaroids he took of his
beautiful, new wife on their honeymoon.  I stole them from their
hiding place in dad's empty luggage.
* * * * *
           Well now the years have gone and I've grown
                    From the seed you've sown
           But I didn't think there'd be so many steps
                   I'd have to learn on my own...
                     Now I'll do what I can
                      I'll walk like a man
                    And I'll keep on walkin'
                                   ("Walk Like a Man")


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