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The Boyfriend's Dad(4)

By´╝ÜPeter Jensen

“Scat, before I change my mind,” her mother said smiling.

Tamera was gone quick as a wink, her exit a slammed front door and the squeal of tires on the pavement as Eddie’s car roared down the otherwise quiet residential street.

Carla West went to their own car, a beat-up old station wagon, and took the last sack of groceries into the house and began putting the groceries away. She stared morosely at the stuff she’d bought. The silence of the house oppressed her for it’s emptiness. It was always thus when Tamera wasn’t home with her, and with the remembrances of Arnold and his death, the house seemed to be like a tomb to her, still as death and just as vacant.

She went into her own bedroom then, wanting to take a cooling bath and wondering if it would be worth the trouble afterwards to prepare the special steak she’d bought for Tamera and herself—before she’d known that her daughter wouldn’t be home to share it. A tear welled in one eye and she blinked it away rapidly as she slipped out of her shorts and blouse, putting them in the clothes hamper on her way into the bathroom. She placed the stopper in the tub and ran water in it—lukewarm the way she liked it on muggy summer days such as this one—and as she waited for the water to fill up, she looked down at herself in a critically detached way, as a woman does when seeing how age has affected her.

Yet her mind still dwelt on her child. She was thinking how Tamera would one day make a good wife for a man, and that no matter how lonely and sad she felt when her daughter left, it was selfish not to allow her to be with boys her own age. When the right man came along, Carla was certain that Tamera would give herself in marital relations totally and completely, just as she herself had done with Arnold. As I may yet do again…

The thought of her own secret sexual desires made Carla blush with shame, but as she gazed down at her own naked body, she had to admit that she still had much to offer a man. I’ve a good shape… and if I’m lucky I’ll be able to please another man with the same intensity and passion as I offered Arnold. Until then, I’ll hold myself in reserve, just as if I were a virgin again…

Her flaxen blonde hair was longer than her daughter’s and she experimentally let it fall down over her shoulders and curl provocatively around the ruby nipples of her cream-white breasts. God, I still look very brazen and sensual that way… then shame-faced at her thoughts, she swept her hair back up again and raised her arms over her head, stretching her breasts and loins taut, in a classic nude pose. She stood that way for a long moment, letting her eyes scan the lovely smooth flesh of her torso, having to admire in honest appraisal the flat surface of her abdomen and the tiny dimple of her navel, then the soft fluffy hair of her pubic triangle, golden and very fine. She could see the pink lips of her vagina and the tip of her clitoris peeking shyly out from the soft puffy slit of her cunt in almost childlike innocence. Pirouetting lightly, she examined the dimpled roundness of her smoothly curving buttocks and the rippling muscles in the back of her slim, tapered thighs.

Self-consciously, she wrenched her prurient thoughts away from her physical being and turned off the tap water. The tub was full now, and she stepped into it, feeling the soothing tepidness of the water banish the fetid heat of the day. She slowly sank down, relaxing, nearly contented at last as she lay with her head touching the rear lip of the porcelain. As usual in moments of relaxation, she thought about Arnold.

Arnold had been a rangy man, lean, hard-muscled and tan, alive and virile every moment Carla had known him, and the love the two had shared had had the intensity of a forest fire. She hadn’t cared that he’d been an underpaid salesman, unable to afford the finest of luxuries for her, or even that they’d had to scrimp and save for some of the necessities. She was proud of him, feasting in his sensuality and his animal eyes, his hands, his mouth, his penis… Why did he have to be called up? Why did the Army have to have one of their silly little alerts and make all of the Reserves come running, and then… Carla stifled a small sob, thinking of what must have happened when the munitions explosion had taken her husband from her forever. No more Arnold, no more hands or mouth or eyes or that wonderful iron-hard, life-giving penis…

She fondly remembered the last night they’d made love, when in their innocence they’d thought it was only going to be a parting of a few days or weeks—and even then the pain had been acute. Arnold had been naked, as she had been, and he straddled her thighs on the same bed that was now only a few feet on the other side of the door. He’d kissed her as his excitedly erect cock rubbed against her quivering, wetly aching pussy… She’d spread her legs for him, her desire building…