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Mrs. Feinman Steps Out
by Marcia R. Hooper (marciarh35@yahoo.com)

***

Ellen unexpectedly discovers herself in a sauna with 
her son's best friend. Embarrassment, missteps and 
indecision escalate the situation until Ellen must make 
a decision: go with her better judgment and back out 
while she still can, or succumb to her body's demands. 
(Fm, reluc, 1st, oral, rom)

***

MRS. FEINMAN STEPS OUT
(Of a Very Hot Sauna)
By Marcia R. Hooper



Based on the short story:
A Very Hot Sauna
by Sweet Peril
Used by Author's Permission


"Oh, Eddie. I didn't know you were here!" 

Ellen had just stepped into her cedar-lined sauna, 
surprising her son's eighteen-year-old friend, who had 
been lying quietly on one of the benches.

Eddie sprang upright on the bench, his face flushing 
with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Feinman. I guess I 
should have asked if I could use your sauna." 

Ellen laughed and waved her hand dismissively. "It's 
absolutely okay. I've told you before: the two weeks 
you're here with James and I, my house is your house. 
And that applies to the sauna as well," she added, 
reaching for the doorknob. "I'll just come back when 
you're finished."

Eddie jumped to his feet. "No, please, Mrs. Feinman! 
Don't let me put you out." He rubbed his palms up and 
down his shorts in a way that made Ellen want to laugh. 
She so liked this young man.

"Thank you," she said. "It's nice to have someone to 
talk to while you're working up a sweat. James prefers 
his privacy."

"Not me," Eddie answered too quickly. It was obvious 
that he'd not anticipated company, wearing only a pair 
of baggy gym shorts. Ellen felt a bit of embarrassment 
herself. This young man obviously worked out, took 
pride in his sculpted chest, his ridiculously narrow 
waist and powerful arms. Ellen thought he might have 
the broadest shoulders she'd ever seen, despite their 
being hunched slightly in embarrassment.

She laughed, shaking out the brightly colored towel 
she'd come in with tucked under her arm. "Well, good. 
I'll be glad for the company."

While Eddie stood politely aside, Ellen laid out her 
towel beside Eddie's on the bench. There was no denying 
her interest in this boy, she realized, not with her 
elevated heart rate and her difficult breathing. She 
had to force herself not to gulp, nor to bite her lower 
lip. Self-consciously reaching for the belt securing 
her terry-clothe robe, it occurred to Ellen that maybe 
her choice of bathing suit had been a bit shortsighted. 
An encounter like this should have occurred to her. Her 
face reddened even more. 

Resolutely, refusing to display embarrassment before 
this boy, she nonchalantly turned toward him and drew 
the robe back over her shoulders and brought it around 
and draped it over her right forearm. Her heart 
stuttered and a shiver ran up her spine seeing Eddie's 
reaction. And traitorously, her nipples began to 
harden.

"Excuse me," she said, turning hurriedly away and 
walking stiffly toward the row of pegs by the door. 
Slowly hanging up the robe, seething with 
embarrassment, she discreetly rubbed her nipples 
through her bikini top and begged them to go away. The 
rough kneading worked; when she turned back, her nipple 
erections were almost gone. It didn't stop her from 
feeling almost naked, however.

At thirty-seven, Ellen was not your typical soccer mom. 
For one thing, she worked out religiously at the gym, 
ate a balanced diet, stayed away from soft drinks and 
red meat, drank rarely and never to excess. She rode a 
bicycle or swam every chance she got. Consequently, she 
looked more twenty-seven than thirty-seven--especially 
in this skimpy bikini. 

Oh, God, she berated herself crossing to the bench, why 
hadn't she considered this?

"Is that tan real?" Eddie asked unexpectedly.

Startled, halfway through her turn to sit down beside 
him on the bench, Ellen hesitated. "Why, yes. If you 
call a tanning bed tan real. I normally go three times 
a week at the gym."

Eddie's face had grown a bright red. Obviously, he'd 
blurted that question during what her son derisively 
called a brain-fart. He looked away, which added to 
Ellen's embarrassment, rather than easing it.

"Sorry. That was impolite," muttered.

Ellen swallowed audibly before answering. "It's OK. 
James comments on my tan all the time. He thinks I'm 
inviting skin cancer." 

In truth, it was one of the few evils Ellen allowed 
herself, beside the occasional bite of chocolate or sip 
of Diet-Coke. She was aware of the dangers, but 
couldn't seem to control herself faced with a bed with 
ultraviolet lights. Her payback would come in her later 
years, she knew, in the form of wrinkles and an 
increased risk of melanoma. It was less risky than 
smoking however, and how many people did that?

Obviously grateful for her attempt at levity, Eddie 
turned back and grinned, rather bashfully Ellen 
thought. It was only too obvious that this boy was as 
dazzled by her outward appearance as she was by his. 

I bet he wonders what touching my breasts would feel 
like, she mused distractedly, just as I wonder what his 
muscled chest would feel like under my hand. The 
thought made her turn her head away and grin.

"Can I ask you a question?" Eddie asked.

"Do I have to answer truthfully?" she answered 
teasingly, hiding her self-consciousness. 

What if he asks me my measurements, she thought, a 
little panicky. What if he wants to know if I go out 
with younger men, or if I like to dance, or what's my 
favorite color? She had to concentrate a moment to 
retrieve that answer: yellow, of course. Just like her 
ridiculously tiny yellow string bikini.

She nervously fingered her short black hair, sweeping 
the right side behind her ear as she always did when 
unsettled. She wondered if Eddie suspected the color 
was out of a bottle. Not that she was horribly gray or 
anything. It was only that Ellen really hated that 
scattering of hair, which seemed to magically change 
from black to white overnight. She hated the vanity 
dying her hair implied, but was no more able to control 
the impulse than she was to stay out of a tanning bed. 
It occurred to her suddenly to wonder if the two 
activities were linked. She also wondered if Eddie knew 
that her sparkling brown eyes were courtesy of the 
contact lenses she wore. 

Why are you wondering all this, she wondered 
mournfully.

"What was your question, Eddie?"

"Um... I wondered if you'd like me to rub suntan lotion 
on you or something?"

Ellen blinked. In a sauna? 

"No, Eddie, but thank you," she replied, trying to keep 
the smile on her face grateful, rather than 
condescending. She knew his fas paux was the result of 
his extreme nervousness; nervousness she herself 
shared. Despite the sheen of perspiration coating her 
from head to foot, she felt the difference in her 
underarms and the palms of her hands, which both itched 
maddeningly. 

Ellen lay down and placed her feet on the bench with 
her knees bent. Adjusting a smaller folded towel 
beneath her head, she then self-consciously adjusted 
her top and then the bikini bottom, aware all the while 
that Eddie was watching her carefully from the corner 
of his eye. Traitorously, her nipples began to harden 
again. This time, she could do nothing about it.

Oh, come on, she thought. Admit it. The boy turns you 
on. 

While true, that was no reason to make a tart of 
herself, a tease. Their being in the sauna together was 
nothing more than coincidence. She hadn't planned it, 
and certainly he hadn't either. Normally, she'd be on 
her way to work right now; James would still be in bed, 
recovering from too many hours of late night video game 
playing (or, as she suspected, cruising Internet porn 
sites and masturbating to the wee hours of the 
morning.) Eddie had known about James's early morning 
appointment with the sport's doctor, and his afternoon 
appointment with the couch of the varsity football 
team, of which he was a special teams player, but no 
way could he have planned a liaison with her in the 
sauna. She'd made the decision to go in late only an 
hour ago, and the decision to work up a healthy sweat 
not ten minutes before. And no, she told herself, you 
most certainly weren't thinking, much less planning, a 
chance encounter with Eddie in the sauna. She was sure 
of that. Her surprise and resulting anxiety were proof.

You know, you could-- 

She crashed her mental foot down on the thought. I am 
not having sex with an eighteen-year-old boy, she 
thought viciously. I'm not even going to consider it! 
Her hands had clenched--her whole body had clenched--at 
the unexpected metal conflict; she forced herself to 
relax and placed the palms of her hands flat on her 
belly.

God, it was so hot in here. God, she was sweating. It 
bothered her immensely that the combined heat and 
humidity, along with her anxiety would very soon cause 
her anti-perspirant to fail in its battle against her 
pores and she'd begin to stink. To avoid this, she 
adjusted her arms--rather uncomfortably--so that her 
underarms remained open. 

Why the fuck didn't I go to work, she thought.

Neither spoke a word into the anxious silence for the 
next ten minutes. Eddie had returned to his own towel, 
his feet also planted on the not-long-enough-bench. 
Because their combined lengths took up most of the 
bench's length, less than a foot separated his head 
from hers. Like Ellen, he lay with his palms cupping 
his hard-muscled stomach.

What would he do, she wondered, if I took off my top? 
The thought, ridiculous as it was, sent a thrill of 
horrible excitement down her spine. She shivered 
convulsively, instantly panicked that he'd felt it 
through the bench and had guessed her thoughts.

Don't be stupid, she railed at herself, followed 
immediately by: Should I? 

She very nearly, disastrously, groaned out loud.

The truth was, she never wore her suit in the sauna. An 
unspoken agreement existed between she and James that 
sauna time was sacrosanct for Mom, and that he wouldn't 
barge in on her when the red Occupied light was on, 
knowing that Mom would be laid out on a towel naked, 
with every pore on her body oozing sweat. A few screw-
ups had occurred, of course, as they always did, but 
they were always accompanied by "Oh, my God, Mom, I'm 
sorry!" followed by a hasty stumble back out the door 
and a modicum of embarrassment on both parts afterward. 
James had seen her bare body often enough, therefore, 
to render a pretty good description of it to his friend 
Eddie. And to anyone else he was interested in telling. 
Ellen wondered if that were really true. She also 
wondered if James was a sexually attracted to her as 
she thought he might be.

Well, isn't that a wonderful thought, she queried 
herself wryly. Planning on fucking your son? The idea 
did nothing to improve her state of mind.

"What did you really want to ask me, Eddie?" she found 
herself asking. The question took her as much by 
surprise as it evidently did the boy.

"Um..." he uttered embarrassedly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean--" Please shut up before you make a complete 
fool out of yourself, she thought angrily. "Nothing. 
Never mind. I just thought..." Again, she fought to 
overpower a most unwelcome groan. Why did she always 
stick her foot in it?

There followed an uncomfortable silence where Ellen 
wanted more than anything to jump up and run out of the 
sauna. She laughed at herself derisively, imagining how 
that would look. Why, oh why, hadn't she gone to work?

Eddie suddenly sat up. Ellen, alarmed by his movement 
sat up also. The tension was so thick that you could 
almost swim in it. Looking at the stack of river stones 
piled high in the center of the sauna--heated 
electrically, water could be poured over them to 
increase the volume of steam--the teenager muttered: 
"James says you lay in here in the nude. He says that 
you like your privacy. I really am intruding, Mrs. 
Feinman. I should get out of here."

Nod, Ellen, she thought. Let him know what a good idea 
this is. Instead, she made things worse by saying: 
"Don't be ridiculous. It's not like I have exclusive 
rights to this thing. I barged in on you, not the other 
way around. I shouldn't even be here right now. If 
anyone should leave--" Red-faced, half-rising, she 
began to gather up the laid-out towel. Eddie objected 
immediately.

"No! Wait." He was on his feet again. "Don't be 
ridiculous, Mrs. Feinman!"

"Ellen," she objected automatically. Her mother was 
Mrs. Feinman. Objecting, however, made her feel even 
more stupid. 

"The point is," he went on, snatching his own towel and 
headrest off the bench, "this is your sauna, which I 
didn't even ask permission to use. I apologize and 
won't do it again." 

His face was a mask of frustration. Ellen felt even 
stupider now. She didn't have a clue what to say. But 
as Eddie turned for the door the words blurted out of 
her mouth: "Would you please, Eddie! Just come back 
here. This is absurd. We're acting like a couple of 
kids. What possible difference does it make how I lay 
out in the sauna? I'm not going to lay out nude with a 
stranger, but I'm also not going to kick him out just 
to indulge in a practice, which is, at the very least, 
questionable in the first place. Let's be adults," she 
added, feeling anything but an adult. 

Eddie didn't turn back, but neither did he continue 
toward the door. After a moment's further hesitation, 
he grudgingly turned around. "Sorry," he muttered. 
"This is... I could have handled this better."

Ellen felt sorry but him, for them both. "Can I be 
honest, Eddie?"

Eddie's shoulders hunched just a bit, defensively. He 
kept his eyes on the floor, making it both easier, and 
more difficult for Ellen to continue. At least if he 
met her eyes, he'd know she was sincere.

"Go ahead," he said gruffly.

Ellen took a deep breath. "Our problem, right now, is 
sexual tension. We're two relatively attractive people, 
alone in a sauna with no one else on the property, 
wearing, um... admittedly skimpy clothing." Ellen's 
face felt like it would sear the cedar paneling. "Add 
to that the fact that James has obviously told you that 
I lay out in the nude--" She felt an uncharacteristic 
blaze of anger at her son for contributing to this. "--
as well as probably regaling you with accounts of how 
he's walked in on me naked, and well... I guess sexual 
tension is unavoidable."

She was not the only one with a blistering red face, 
Ellen saw. Eddie looked on the verge of combustion. 
Clearing his throat, making a false start before he 
managed to push out the words, he mumbled, "You are not 
relatively attractive, Mrs. Feinman. You're absolutely 
beautiful. Your body is perfect. You're like an 
Egyptian goddess come to life. James is so lucky to 
have you for a mother. "

Ellen wanted to crawl under the bench. Her face had 
gone beyond scorching and was now in danger of melting 
off. "That's so not true, Eddie. And believe me, I am 
more embarrassed by my body than I am proud of it. Take 
my word for it: Had I known you would be here, I would 
not have worn such a thing." I would not have been here 
period, she did not tack on. "I feel like every ounce 
of fat on my body is hanging out. I feel like Kirstie 
Alley," she moaned, self-mockingly.

Eddie looked almost horrified, his eyes popping wide 
and his eyebrows raising, almost comically high, Ellen 
thought, though she had never been less in a mood for 
laughing. 

"Are you kidding me? You look phenomenal! You look 
better than Demi Moore did in that Charlie's Angels 
movie!" 

Ellen tried to hide her flinch at the comparison. Her 
personal opinion was that Demi Moore had looked horrid 
in that black bikini, a 40-year old masquerading as a 
teenager. Despite her son's obvious enthusiasm over the 
scene--they'd watched the movie on the big plasma TV in 
the family room--it had made her shiver with revulsion. 
Now to be compared with that...?

Eddie barreled on unknowing. "Yeah, James told me about 
barging in on you. He also told me that it had never 
been an accident, and the only reason he didn't do it 
more often was that he didn't want you getting wise. He 
doesn't want you knowing he's infatuated with you. Oh, 
God, he's gonna kill me for this. Please, Mrs. 
Feinman!" he pleaded. "Please don't tell James I told 
you any of this!"

Stunned, Ellen stared at the boy's imploring face. Not 
an accident? He'd spied on her? Barged in on her naked 
on purpose? What other seemingly innocent events had 
not been innocent at all? Her racing thoughts ground to 
a halt. Two weeks ago, she'd come out of the shower to 
discover the bedroom door cracked open half an inch. 
Though positive she'd heard the click of the latch as 
it engaged, she hadn't given the occurrence much 
thought. Now, in her mind, she clearly saw herself 
through the clear glass shower doors, shampooing, 
washing herself, shaving her legs...masturbating, she 
realized with horror. 

Fuck, she thought vehemently. She'd hated those doors 
since the day they were installed, complaining to 
Robert, her ex, before they even came out of the box.

"What happens if James blunders in while I'm in the 
shower?" she'd fretted, pointedly, as it turned out, 
though now it appeared more ambush than blunder. 

Needing to concentrate on this more immediate problem, 
however, Ellen pushed thoughts of the incident aside. 
James, and his little indiscretions, could wait. 

"I won't tell James anything," she lied. "And though 
they are totally off-base, thank you for the 
compliments. You make an old lady blush in 
embarrassment." She grinned, cutting off his objections 
with a raised hand. "Enough. Can we get by the 
embarrassment, do you think, and just enjoy the sauna?"

Ruefully, Eddie grinned. "Sure. I'd like that. But, for 
the record--" He held up his hand this time to cut off 
a protest. "--I disagree with everything you just said. 
You are the hottest 'old lady' I've ever seen. And," he 
added, grinning at her embarrassed expression, "If you 
want to finish your session in the nude, I'll more than 
understand. I'll even lie down and put the towel over 
my eyes. Like this." Grinning, he placed the folded 
towel over his eyes, playfully letting the edge droop 
away from his right eye, which gazed at her brightly. 
Ellen couldn't help but laugh.

"That's exactly what you'd be doing too, isn't it? 
Sneaking a peek?" This time she enjoyed, rather than 
felt appalled at the blush in her cheeks. 

"I certainly would not," he shot back, still looking at 
her with his uncovered, crinkled right eye. 

"Mmm hmm." Ellen crossed her arms and canted her head 
skeptically. She also asked herself what the hell she 
thought she was doing.

Are you out of your mind? Stop flirting with him!

Eddie's grin widened. Obviously feeling emboldened, he 
quipped: "Of course, you could save us both the trouble 
and just go ahead and take it off now."

"What trouble is that?" she said, raising her arms as 
though to reach behind her neck to untie the strings. 
Eddie's crinkled eye widened in shock. His jaw dropped 
and formed a perfect "O". Ellen couldn't help but 
laugh. To her consternation, however, her arms remained 
positioned were they were, her fingertips dangerously 
close to the bikini strings.

Don't you dare do this, her voice of reason warned. 

Giddily, she thought back: It's a tease! Nothing more. 
It's not like I'm really going to do it.

He thinks you are, VoR shot back. 

Ellen assessed this idea. Yes, she realized, Eddie was 
in fact afraid she might do it, whether from 
impishness, playfulness, or an outright attempt at 
seduction. Her fingertips, evidently working under some 
plan of their own, tapped the bow-tied strings, 
awaiting further instructions

Why not, she thought. This young man obviously thinks 
I'm worth looking at--or professes he does, anyway. 
What harm would it do to let him see? 

Because, another part of her insisted, a part separate 
from VoR and whatever part had commandeered her arms, 
he may not want like what he gets to see. You are no 
spring chicken, Ellen.

She decided to let Eddie make the decision.

"Tell me what to do, Eddie."

"Mrs. Feinman," he choked out "I can't--"

She made the plunge. "Would you like to see my breasts? 
If so, I'll remove my top. If not, please don't let me 
embarrass myself. I don't want to be embarrassed, 
Eddie."

Eddie slowly lowered the towel from his face. His mouth 
had closed, his shoulders had squared, and his face had 
taken on a look of dead seriousness. To Ellen, he 
suddenly appeared ten years older. 

Softly, but not in a mutter, he replied. "You won't 
embarrass yourself, Ellen, believe me."

A shudder running down her spine, Ellen allowed her 
fingertips to release the knot securing the strings 
around her neck, letting them fall down her front. A 
moment later she had the catch undone in the back and 
the bra fell away, baring her breasts. She gathered the 
top into both hands and held it before her, breathless. 

This was only the fourth man for whom she had purposely 
bared her breasts. A boy, whom she had thought was her 
one true love at age sixteen, her husband, two years 
later, the man she had cheated on Bob with two years 
ago, and now this friend of Eddie's. 

Terrified and excited both, knowing how, if not where 
this would end, Ellen remained still and waited for 
Eddie to make his decision. His decision was, as it 
turned out, to hesitantly reach out his right hand and 
remove the bra from her fingertips. 

*  *  *

"This bikini cost how much?" he asked incredulously.

Face down on her towel, enjoying the closeness of 
Eddie, if not the sight of him--she knew he lay on his 
back staring up at the expensive little suit in his 
hands--she laughed.

"I don't know why that surprises me," he said in a more 
subdued tone. "Considering you have your own built in 
sauna, Jacuzzi and swimming pool. Look where you live."

Ellen harrumphed. "Young man. Your parents live here 
also, and they are a lot richer than--" She had almost 
said "Bob and I," but corrected it at the last moment 
to "--I am."

"Besides," she went on. "The bikini was a birthday 
present. I would never spend that much money on a 
suit."

She raised her head to gaze at Eddie laid out on his 
towel. As expected, the tiny yellow top was in one 
hand, the bikini bottom in the other. She imagined 
Eddie's hands, rather than hers, removing them from her 
body and barely stifled a moan.

You are shameless, VoR growl at her.

Stupid, is more like it, the second voice, which Ellen 
now dubbed ASM, for Aggravated Soccer Mom, disagreed. 
She's gonna get us in so much trouble.

She will if she doesn't watch out, VoR agreed. Ellen, 
has it occurred to you that nowhere in this cedar-lined 
motel room is there a condom? I can inform you with 
certainty that Mr. Abs is not packing one in his 
panties. Only the weapon the condom is designed to 
sheath. What are you going to do when Sir Galahad 
decides to unsheath that sword and brandish it in front 
of your face?

Oh, stop it, she chided them both. No one is having sex 
in this heat and humidity. I can't even imagine it.

It's the things you can't imagine that worry me, ASM 
grumbled. 

Ellen dropped her chin onto the towel. As foolhardy as 
removing her bra had been, it was nothing compared to 
sliding down her bikini bottoms a moment later, 
stepping out of them, and handing them to the 
dumbstruck Eddie. He clearly hadn't expected either 
occurrence

"Um..." he had said uncertainly.

"As long as I'm being stupid," she admitted truthfully, 
"I may as well be stupid all the way." With great 
embarrassment, she had raised her hands and spun in a 
surprisingly well-executed inspection twirl. 
Thankfully, Eddie's expression had indicated that he 
felt as foolish as she.

"OK?" she asked, timidly.

"Mrs. Feinman." His voice came out a husky croak. "I 
wish you hadn't done that."

Ellen winced at the stab of pain.

"No!" he said, before embarrassment could make her 
snatch back her bathing suit and flee the room. "That's 
not what I meant." He put out a hand as if to restrain 
her, though he didn't actually make contact.

"What I meant was..." He licked his lips and gulped 
audibly. Ellen worried he'd pop a tendon in his hand he 
was squeezing it so hard around her bikini. 
Discomfited, she crossed her arms over her breasts and 
squeezed her thighs tightly together.

"Christ," he said, agitated. "How do I say this without 
sounding like a fool? Or a cad, which is exactly what I 
feel like right now."

Ellen wondered distractedly how a person her son's age 
could feel like a cad. 

"Do you want me to get dressed?" she asked, timid 
again. "My robe is right there." She pointed at the row 
of pegs beside the door. "I could put it on, if that 
would be better."

His face looked pain. "Mrs. Feinman--Ellen. There is 
nothing I want less in the whole world right now than 
for you to put anything on."

Heat again baked Ellen's cheeks. "Eddie-" 

"Really!" he assured her. "You--" He gulped again 
loudly. "You are almost a walking crime, you look so 
good."

Foolishly pleased by the absurd compliment, Ellen 
blushed fiery red. She'd also been absurdly relieved 
when Eddie had suggested that they lie down in their 
former positions and finish enjoying their steam bath. 
It wasn't like they could stay in here all day, he 
reminded her. He had then suggested--for modesty's 
sake--that it might be best if she lay down on her 
stomach. For modesty's sake.

Though agreeing, Ellen now wondered if misplaced 
chivalry would keep her young man--when had she started 
considering him her young man, she wondered--from 
accepting what chance had offered him. It was in that 
moment that Ellen realized she wanted Eddie to make 
love to her.

I told you so, ASM groaned.

Oh, shut up, VoR responded unexpectedly. I think it's 
sweet.

That she's going to bed with a boy half her age? Less 
than half her age? ASM harrumphed. Positively shameful. 
Tart!

I don't know about you, VoR mused, but I've rather 
missed the sexual aspect of our life. It's been what? 
Nine months? Ellen listened to her count the months 
with interest. A sex life was something she missed as 
well--badly. 

Over a year now, VoR concluded. That's pitiful.

Well, why doesn't she screw someone her own age? Her 
boss, for instance. He'd be happy to oblige. 

Ellen shook her head and dropped it to the folded 
towel. It wouldn't do for Eddie to look back and see 
the immense grin on her face; he might misunderstand. 
Or worse, he might not. 

She continued to monitor the interior bickering with 
interest, though more as an eavesdropper might overhear 
a conversation rather than partake in it. She was 
content--let's face it, giddily happy--to be laying 
there nude with this young man.

ASM's right, she thought to herself. You are a tart. 

"I want you to know that I appreciate this, Mrs.--um--
Ellen. Not many women would feel secure--have the 
confidence, I guess--taking their clothes off in front 
of a guy they barely know. Thank you for trusting me."

Ellen snorted. "Eddie, I've known you since the age of 
six. You're not exactly a stranger."

"You know what I mean," he replied.

"I know what you mean, yes. And thank you for the 
compliment. But it's totally unwarranted, and not 
exactly true. I was anything but confident undressing 
in front of you." I was mortified, if you really want 
to know, she didn't add. 

"Well... thank you anyway."

Another silence ensued. The last thing Ellen wanted was 
an extended silence. Experience had taught her that the 
longer an uncomfortable silence endured, the harder is 
was to recover from. If nothing else, twenty years of 
marriage had taught her that.

Turning onto her back, Ellen raised her knees, planted 
her feet and interlaced her fingers behind her head.

"So, anyone special in your life, Eddie?" she asked.

She felt his hesitation. "Not really. Kinda hoping that 
a certain situation will bear fruit though." He laughed 
at his presumptiveness, and Ellen laughed along with 
him. 

"Anyone I know?" she asked coyly, immediately wanting 
to kick herself. 

That was pretty flirtatious, VoR agreed.

Downright slutty, ASM sounded off. Of course, you are 
laying here nude.

Eddie's reply was characteristically hesitant. "You 
could say that. In fact--" 

Ellen heard and felt him flip onto his stomach on the 
bench. Her bare breasts elicited a surprised intake of 
breath, and Ellen fought the grin wanting to split her 
face. She wondered if the hands behind the head were a 
bit much. Possibly, but surely her raised and locked 
together knees made up for it somewhat.

"In fact--?" she prompted.

Eddie groaned and Ellen burst out in laughter. Sitting 
up, facing him, she asked with a warm smile: "Eddie, 
why don't you just come right out and admit you want to 
make love to me?"

Eddie sat up also. His discomfort, Ellen couldn't help 
notice, was significantly compounded by the bulge in 
his shorts. It made her laugh again, which only 
compounded the blush on Eddie's face.

"Mrs. Feinman--" he pleaded. 

"Oh, we're back to Mrs. Feinman again, are we?" Rising, 
Ellen grabbed her towel off the bench and folded it 
roughly in half and dropped it on the floor before 
Eddie's feet. Surprised, he snatched them up and then 
tentatively placed them back down beneath the bench. A 
look of dawning awareness had his eyebrows raised, his 
nostrils flared, and his mouth set in a grim line.

"Mrs. Feinman--"

Ellen laughed (where had she gotten this audacious 
courage?) and dropped to her knees and placed her 
forearms atop either of Eddie's thighs. She both felt, 
and saw the shudder course through his body. The bulge 
in his shorts actually twitched as hidden muscles 
reacted to her proximity. It took a real effort this 
time--not entirely successful--to stifle a giggle. 

Once composed, Ellen smiled warmly and said: "I'll 
leave this decision to you as well, Eddie. I believe 
you want me to--" She cast a significant glance down at 
his huge hidden erection. "--but I also don't want to 
force myself on you. It's just that I have a feeling 
that embarrassment, and feelings of guilt over 
approaching your best friend's mother--"

Not to mention someone your own mother's age, ASM noted 
acidly.

"--are making this more difficult for you than need be. 
Therefore--" She had to grin at her own, slightly 
laughable ceremoniousness. "--I'll make the offer as I 
did with taking off my bikini. Would you like to make 
love to me?"

Following another, more powerful shudder, Eddie nodded 
curtly. 

Slowly and deliberately, keeping her eyes locked with 
his as long as possible, Ellen bent forward and brought 
her lips down to the thumping bulge in his shorts and 
kissed it. His resulting shudder was terribly powerful. 
She even sensed that he raised his right hand 
momentarily, a hand meant to go to the back of her 
head, a hand she would have enjoyed touching her, 
before returning it the edge of the bench, where she 
sensed it gripped the wood crushingly. Now it was her 
turn to shiver.

VoR asked: Is this what you want, Ellen? To which ASM 
instantly responded, don't ask her that! To which VoR 
replied, hush! Let Ellen answer the question.

Ellen didn't have to think about it at all. She 
couldn't remember wanting anything like she wanted 
this. Not in the last few years, anyway. Not even with 
Eddie's father, who'd put the final nails in the coffin 
of her marriage. She wondered--and not idly, as Eddie 
Sr. had nearly split her up the middle their first time 
together--if she'd walk out of this sauna by herself 
afterward, or require a helping hand. 

My God, she thought now. What if Eddie is even bigger? 

Only one way to find out.

Grasping the waistband of Eddie's shorts above each 
hip, waiting for him to lift himself so that they could 
be removed, Ellen worked the shorts down his thighs and 
let them puddle around his ankles on the floor. His 
erection was every bit the equal of his father's, 
almost twice the size of her husband's--her ex-
husband's, she reminded herself joyfully--long and 
thick and thickly-veined, possessing the same bulbous 
glans, the same dangerously bruised-looking bluish-plum 
color, the same set of immense testicles below. And 
just like his father, the left testicle was twice the 
size of his right. 

Oh, my God, she thought distractedly. The sperm those 
things had pumped into her when he came. She beheld 
those of his son almost reverentially.

Keeping her eyes on his, relying on intuition and luck, 
she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his penis 
lovingly. If flesh and bone could melt, Eddie looked as 
though he'd pool happily around his own ankles. He 
shuddered again, comically asymmetrical this time, his 
swollen penis batting her gently on the lips. This was 
all the invitation Ellen required. Opening her mouth, 
she moved it down over his head and sucked on it 
lovingly, the way Eddie Sr., had so loved. 

It fact, she reminded herself, Eddie Sr. had gotten his 
first taste of lips in this very same sauna, in almost 
this exact position, holding her head tightly between 
his hands and running her mouth up and down his cock, 
demonstrating immediately who was in charge of that 
relationship. This time, she enjoyed the feeling of 
command that Eddie Jr.'s relatively tender age and 
inexperience allowed her. He kept his hands safely 
locked to the front edge of the bench while Ellen, in 
so many words, made love to his penis.

*  *  *

Some time later, gleaming with perspiration, Ellen 
stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom. 
Eddie, also gleaming, stood dutifully beside her, his 
reflected eyes drinking in her beauty. Ellen had to 
admit that her body rivaled that of Demi Moore, if not 
that of a teenager, which, in some ways was much 
better, she thought. Her curves was more womanish (she 
refused to even consider the word voluptuous), her hips 
wide and solid-looking from child-birth, her thighs 
long and nicely compact from bicycling, her calves, 
forearms, biceps and shoulders nicely athletic-looking. 
Her only physical drawback was her breasts, she 
thought, beginning to show their age, both in sag, and 
stretch marks. 

Unfortunately, it was the one asset she could do 
nothing about with workouts and strict compliance to 
diet. Breasts were, by definition, mostly fat. Still, 
from the way Eddie's eyes seemed captivated by their 
reflections, maybe he critiqued them less critically 
them she. He didn't even seem fazed by her ugly, 
elongated aureole and thick nipples. Then again, she 
reminded herself, he looks at you from an entirely 
different perspective. Your oversized nipples probably 
look delicious to him, possible even nutritive. In the 
mirror, she watched her reflection stifle yet another 
embarrassing giggle. 

"What's the matter?" he asked, picking up on her 
discomfort.

"Nothing," she said, taking him by the hand and leading 
him into the spacious master bathroom.

Drawing back the door of the white-tiled bath, Ellen 
spun the faucet to the left and backed out of the path 
of the spray before it could freeze her with cold 
water. The last thing she needed on her overheated skin 
was freezing cold water. Checking to make sure shampoo 
and cream rinse sat in their assigned positions, and 
likewise the liquid body wash--a bar of soap was there 
as well, should Eddie prefer that--she held out her 
left hand while adjusting the water temperature with 
her right.

"This is always the best part of a sauna: a nice, long 
hot shower afterwards. Don't you agree?" she asked 
innocently.

Eddie, his mouth curving crookedly, wasn't fooled. You 
just want a few minutes for my erection to recuperate 
itself, his expression read, which, though true, wasn't 
entirely the truth. Ellen really did long for the 
comforting hot spray on her shoulders and back. Nothing 
relaxed her the way a long hot shower did. And right 
now, she needed relaxing. Anxiety had begun to 
resurface, as well a certain insecurity at their 
difference in age. How much attraction could a woman 
Eddie's mother's age, no matter how well maintained and 
how loving, hold for a young man when thousands of 
voluptuous teenage girls (there was that word again, 
though more rightly used this time, she had to admit) 
passed him every day in the halls and quads of his 
campus? The thought depressed her; she felt suddenly 
old and uselessly sexless again. But then Eddie's hands 
slid into place, one atop her left breast, the other 
cupping her lower abdomen, the thumb in her belly 
button, and a no longer flaccid penis pressed between 
her cheeks.

"Oh!" she gasped. Unconsciously, she spun about and the 
hand formerly on her breast caressed the middle of her 
back while the other claimed her rear end. "Eddie!" she 
said, just as he kissed her. She kissed him back 
fiercely, surprised that he'd want his tongue in the 
same mouth that had just swallowed his ejaculation. 
Then it was her turn to want to melt down around her 
feet. 

"Eddie," she whispered again, some time later. She was 
completely discomposed. All self-doubt, at least for 
the moment, had melted away. The truth was that she was 
having a horrible time not dropping to her knees and 
attacking his penis again. His ugly, massively swollen, 
vagina-destroying (from previous experience, not 
current knowledge), tonsil-battering penis that she 
wanted in every orifice at one time. 

Oh, God, she thought miserably. Why can't there be 
three of him?

"Let me adjust this," Eddie said. Steam, escaping 
through the open shower door surrounded them both. 
Grasping Ellen by the biceps, he backed her into and 
then out of the scalding hot spray--she yelped, but 
made no attempt to disconnect herself from his grip, 
rather letting herself be guided to wherever Eddie 
wanted her--and watched with big blinking eyes as Eddie 
closed the door behind himself, sealing them in.

"Sorry if that burned you," he apologized.

"It didn't," Ellen lied. Thank God he had moved her out 
of the spray, however. The steam was so thick she could 
barely see his face. How could he stand that heat on 
his back? She was relieved, therefore, when he released 
her left arm and reached behind himself for the faucet.

"Don't make it hotter," she warned.

Eddie shook his head, though from his expression Ellen 
guessed that he was turning the knob in tiny increments 
to test the resulting temperature difference.

"Clockwise," she offered helpfully.

Eddie smiled in response, and Ellen felt the ambient 
temperature of the air cool a bit. 

"Better?"

"Better," she agreed. She leaned forward and rose onto 
the balls of her feet for another kiss. Eddie met her 
on the way up, their tongues coupling eagerly. After a 
time, she informed him matter-of-factly: "You are the 
first man who's ever kissed me right after coming in my 
mouth." 

His grin was impish. "And how many men would that be, 
exactly?"

"Three. You're the fourth." His hands slid gently up 
and down her spine, and cupped her rear end, which 
Ellen found almost irresistibly arousing. "You're only 
the fourth man I've ever been with," she clarified.

Eddie looked surprised. "Really?" 

"Really," Ellen confirmed, laughing at his expression. 
"Despite my expertise with my mouth."

Eddie laughed and pecked her on the nose and then the 
forehead. "I find that really intriguing. Who were the 
other three? Your husband, obviously, and my dad. But, 
Number One?"

Ellen gasped, feeling her eyes widen to the diameter of 
silver dollars, her mouth the diameter of a dinner 
plate. "Eddie!" she choked out.

He laughed. "Don't worry. He didn't spill the beans. I 
found out completely by accident."

"How?" she croaked, not even attempting to deny the 
truth. The arms clasped lightly around her middle made 
her feel panicked now, rather than aroused. She tried, 
unsuccessfully, to ease herself off the swollen penis 
caught between her thighs and nestled into her 
genitals. She felt her heart start skipping beats 
again.

"I saw you together one night at a restaurant in 
Bethesda and followed you home. I already had my 
suspicions, but when I saw the two of you get out of 
his Mercedes and walk arm and arm into your house, 
well..." He shrugged. "I knew Mr. Feinman was away on 
business and James was on campus. I figured my dad had 
gotten lucky." His rather embarrassed grin disappeared. 
"I mean really lucky, Mrs. Feinman, not lucky, like 
getting unexpectedly laid. I can't tell you how much I 
envied him. Do you know how long--" He suddenly broke 
off.

A horrible thought surfaced in Ellen's mind. "Eddie... 
you didn't--"

"No!" he cut her off fiercely. "I would never do that! 
I mean..." His expression became sheepish. "Yeah, I 
mean I thought about it. I think about it all the time, 
if you really want to know. I even... this morning... 
but I never thought it might actually happen. Christ, I 
thought you had gone to work." He laughed, self-
deprecatingly. "I came in here more as a sop to my 
misery than with any hopes of seeing you. I was totally 
shocked when you opened the door. The truth is, I 
didn't know who it was. I thought maybe it was James at 
first, ditching his appointment or something, or maybe 
Mr. Feinman, looking for you, but when you came through 
that door wearing that skimpy little bikini...?" He 
half-closed his eyes in memory; Ellen didn't remind him 
that she hadn't actually revealed the bikini until a 
few minutes after she'd entered, when removing her 
robe.

"So no," he went on. "I didn't bushwhack you. Though I 
certainly am glad you did me." He bent down to kiss her 
again, and Ellen rose up to meet him. Though shaken, 
she was thankful and relieved by his honesty. 

"Forgiven?" he asked, some moments later.

"Forgiven," she confirmed. 

Eddie spun them both under the hot spray and she moaned 
again as his hand slid up the taut flesh of her belly 
and closed over her right breast; moaned deeper as his 
lips traced fire down the line of her jaw to her 
vulnerable neck, to the hollow just below her ear, out 
along the ridge of her shoulder and back to her neck. 
She winced slightly at the pressure he applied to her 
swollen nipple with his thumb and forefinger, enjoyed 
the sensation of it rolled between his fingertips, 
discovered she was up on her tiptoes only when they 
began to quiver and spasm beneath her. She didn't know 
why impulse made her stretch out her entire frame as it 
did, arching her back, forcing back her head in the 
beginnings of an unexpected orgasm. 

"Oh, my God, Eddie!"

Quickly wrapping her arms around his neck, she raised 
herself and wrapped her legs around his waist. 
Instantly, Eddie clasped her behind and lifted her 
clear of his erection and then, with no subtleness 
whatsoever, lowered her roughly onto it. Her gasp was 
stifled as she sank her teeth into the meat of his 
shoulder--which did nothing to stop the convulsion of 
pain as his massive cock-head overstretched her vagina 
and impaled her mercilessly.

"Ohhhhhh," she moaned through the flesh between her 
teeth. Eddie Sr. hadn't hurt her this wonderfully bad. 
She wondered if blood was even then flowing down 
Eddie's thighs. She felt that it must. No one could 
hurt this much and not be fatally wounded. He offered 
no apology, however, and Ellen didn't want one. She 
wanted to be fucked ruthlessly, degradingly, made to 
keen and plea for mercy, made to beg to be fucked 
harder and deeper--agonizingly deeper--made to wail in 
misery with her head thrown back and shrieks ripping 
out her throat. Instead, Eddie lowered her to her back 
on the streaming tiles and proceeded to love to her so 
gently, so thoroughly, so completely, that Ellen 
couldn't help but sob with joy. When he came, too soon, 
but not soon enough for her aching loins, Ellen 
surrendered herself completely to orgasm.

"Oh, Eddie," she moaned into his shoulder.

"Oh, Mrs. Feinman," he moaned back, as pulse after 
pulse of nutrient flowed into her hungry womb. The 
influx never seemed to stop, which suited Ellen, who'd 
lie there beneath the thundering spray and swallow his 
seed for the rest of eternity. However, even her 
wonderful Eddie was not without limit; eventually his 
spasms died away. 

Neither lover could move. Neither wanted to move, least 
of all Ellen. Finally, exhaustedly, she murmured into 
his ear: "Marry me, Eddie. I never want you to leave 
this house again. Ever, ever again."

Eddie laughed, and Ellen laughed along with him, and 
neither stopped, for a very long time.

THE END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 64