Mother & Son - Sheila and Tommy

Chapter 1

Sheila Park stood, shaking her head as she had so many times in the past. Her boss was persistent, but she was not about to change her mind, this time or any other.

Once again she wished she knew what it was about her that made him and so many of the other men in the office ask her out on dates.

Their requests for dates always appeared innocent enough, but she knew better.

"No, I can't, Mr. Thomas," she said once more.

Charles Thomas leaned back in his oversized chair, his eyes feasting on the lush figure of his blonde secretary. What he saw was reason enough to not let another "no" discourage him. Petite, she had a flowing walk with her hips undulating in a free way under her dress.

Above her narrow trim waist, her breasts loomed large and exquisitely shaped.

And they, too, seemed to undulate and shake in a jellied way when she walked.

Since her figure was so well-formed, so firm and youthful, she never wore girdles or anything more than panties, bra, and a garter belt.

And it showed in her every high-heeled step!

Her face was pretty, with a pert snub nose and wide sensuous lips.

Charles knew instinctively that she had to be fantastic in bed, and he was willing to try anything to get her there.

"Is it a jealous lover?" he said, though he was convinced she had no steady boyfriend.

She blushed hearing the word "lover", but then quickly denied such a relationship by shaking her head.

"With the long weekend, I'm sure Tommy has plans, Mr. Thomas.

I wouldn't want to commit myself to anything that might spoil them," she said firmly.

For the other men in the office she wouldn't bother to make any excuses, but with her boss it had to be different.

She folded her steno pad in hope of bringing the conversation to a finish, but Charles Thomas persisted.

"You should think about yourself, too," he said quietly, but he wanted to yell at her and demand it.

He wanted to go and lock the office door and take her in his arms and rip the damned dress off and caress her and feel her nakedly voluptuous little body underneath him, all hot and wiggling, eager to be fucked.

It seemed it was always Tommy that stood in the way of Charles getting her out, even for an innocent cup of coffee. Charles had thought Tommy was her brother the day they were introduced.

"If there's nothing more, Mr. Thomas, I'll get this letter typed," she said curtly, and turned to go. She knew exactly how far she could go with him, and felt safe in her near rudeness.

Her boss shifted forward in his large chair, signaling an end to his efforts to date her, for that day at least. "Thank you, Miss Hall," he intoned, with emphasis on the "Miss."

Sheila didn't like using Tommy as an excuse to turn down dates, but countless times the boy had proved to be the best and easiest. And she had long ago learned to ignore the social stigma of being an unwed mother. The truth was simply that she was scared.

Men had often appeared to Sheila as animals, brutes, unfeeling lechers who wanted nothing more than her still and ripe body.

She dressed to hide her lush figure and discovered it was an impossibility; the more she tried to hide her large fully fleshed breasts, the more she drew attention to them; the more she tried to control her walk, the more studied and provocative it became.

Despite her thoughts and aims, she radiated a natural sensualness, a deep, heated, milky kind of sexuality.

To see Sheila in a miniskirt, to see her long shapely legs and full curving thighs, only conjured a vision of what was hidden under her skirt -- up there between her legs; to think of her hips encased in silken little panties and her naked buttocks and her downy golden pubic hair made a man positive her sweetly perfumed vaginal lips were prominent and pinkly moist...

all ready, eager to receive a long, hard cock.

Indeed, she had a way of walking -- when she wanted to -- that allowed her vaginal lips to rub together in a softly lubricated way that excited her clitoris which would swell and send tingles of pleasure coursing through her entire body.

She was a natural "tease", a body so well built and proportioned that no man in his right mind would pass her by without a long lustful look.

It had been like that for her since an early age, a condition that had led her parents to be overprotective and restrictive.

For a vibrant girl really enjoying her life, such dominance can be hell.

She was defiant as a girl, seeking more of life than the planned lessons and activities of her parents provided her.

Her defiance, one warm spring afternoon, led to the incident that left her life changed while creating the fearful attitude she currently held toward men.

It had been one of those rare days in San Francisco when the sun shone hot and clear; the kind of day when nothing can keep an adventuresome girl indoors; and Sheila was supposed to be attending a choir rehearsal.

Feeling her parents would be none the wiser, she had decided to go to the park instead, and her plan had proved to be disastrous.

The greens and yellows of the park were like vibrant signs of awakening spring, and she had wandered aimlessly, absorbing the warmth of the colors from the earth.

The park was cut by few roads, but instead was crisscrossed by numerous trails and paths that led to and around all of the abundant glories of nature.

Each turn was a discovery of something wonderful; and finding herself by a small, clear pond, Sheila wandered off the trail to become more intimate with the earth. It was warm; her heart beat rhythmically; she was fully aware of her blossoming womanhood more than ever before in her life.

At the far side of the pond stood a pair of Grecian-like columns, apparently placed there to reflect in the clear water of the pond, but poplar trees and dense foliage had grown up around them, making the columns barely visible.

It was near the base of those pillars, in a small opening between the thick bushes, that Sheila had lain down to feel the warmth of the afternoon sun...

Lying back and looking up, she saw the white columns towering skyward like lofty sentinels guarding her very private world below.

And she felt alone, as in the first Biblical garden; a woman one with nature.

The rays of the sun penetrated her clothes, caressing her youthful body with its sensual warmth, and the tingling of her smooth white skin seemed to speak to her, pleading and begging to be set free of its cover.

She was excited by the thought of being totally naked there in the park, and she looked around slowly, reassuring herself of complete privacy. Then, her excitement growing with each passing second, she sat up, pulling her dress off over her head.

Her brassiere came next; then her shoes and stockings. And finally, thrilled by her own actions, she slowly slipped the sheer nylon panties away from her ripely rounded buttocks and over her thighs until she sat on the warm grass free of all her ugly, confining garments.

She felt as though she was totally naked for the first time there in the surroundings of nature, open and exposed to the life-giving sun.

She lay back again, this time feeling the coarse leaves of the earth touching her naked flesh and stirring in her a new excitation, as if a thousand tiny fingers were brushing against her nerves.

And her heartbeat quickened, sending her blood pulsating through her newly awakened body, warming, stimulating, making her want to caress herself everywhere.

She felt a familiar itching deep within her vagina, a sensation she experienced on the few occasions she had been to school dances with boys, only this time the feeling was more intense -- more demanding.

After the dances, when she was home and in bed, she had touched herself with her hands and fingers, and she had even probed into her moistly excited pussy to relieve the terrible itch.

Afterwards, after she had achieved her puny little orgasm, she would always feel guilty, as she had been taught to believe sex was horribly wrong and dirty.

But that afternoon, lying nakedly there in the park in the warm sun, she again wanted to fondle her body, and she was convinced the pleasures it would bring her were right and deserved.

It was the setting: the scent, touch, feel and sounds of nature all around her, that made her more aware of her sexuality... and anything she might do to herself could be only good.

The palms of her hands were warm as she placed them against her curving hips, and she drew them up along the narrow dip of her waist, languishing in the sensual feel of her own naked flesh.

Reaching the full, raised mounds of her breasts, she cupped her hands over the tips; the brownish-pink buds of her erect little nipples were already hard and sensitive.

She pinched them between thumbs and forefingers, thrilling in the contact as the wanton heat in her groin seemed to rage out of control. Her long legs were spread slightly apart, and she raised them up and out wider.

The thought that she was so open and nakedly exposed to the earth made her arousal heighten to an overpowering sense of urgency, and she released her hold of her budding right breast, running her hand down over the smooth flat plane of her belly until her fingertips touched the wispy beginnings of her pubic hairs.

The lips of her hungry vagina moistly flared with the nearness of her fingers as the heat of her loins surpassed that from the sun. Her overly sensitive little clitoris throbbed a tingling message to her brain: Touch me, pinch me, please!