Jean-Luc Cheri - Watched at Home

“Erica, what are your plans for your first weekend back home from college?”

I looked up from my cereal and the magazine I was reading to see Shane at the refrigerator, wearing a dress shirt and jeans — his usual work clothes.

“Relaxing around the house, why?”

He shrugged. “Just curious. Have you talked to any of your friends since you got back?”

“No, and I feel a guilty about it.”

“Why?”

“Well, when we all left for college last fall, we promised to stay in touch. And we did for a while, but I guess we got involved in stuff, and we haven’t spoken in months.”

“Are they all back home?”

“I think so,” I said, “I know Beth had to leave school after the first semester, because her mom got sick.”

“Yeah, I ran into her a few months ago at the grocery store. She told me her mom’s getting better.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You five used to be thick as thieves,” he said. “Remember all those pool parties you used to have here at the house? You girls spent every weekend together.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I miss that.”

“The pool’s still out there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re only a few phone calls away from doing it again.”

“You mean have a pool party?”

“Why not? What would be a better way of getting you all back together? You could catch up on what you’ve been doing off at college.”

I was beginning to warm up to the idea.

“Tell you what,” he said, “it’s Friday, so why not tonight? Give me a list of the food and drinks you’ll need, and I’ll pick them up on the way home from work. You can call your friends today and set it up.”

I smiled. “Thanks. I think I will. By the way, you seem more enthusiastic about this than me.”

“Um,” he said, looking embarrassed, “it’s just that those parties remind me of your high school days, and I’m feeling kind of old now that you’re grown up and in college.”

My smile widened. “Shane, that’s silly.”

“Silly?”

“Yeah. You’re only twelve years older than me. Thirty-one isn’t even close to being old.”

It was his turn to smile. “Thanks. I need reminded of that once in a while.”

“Speaking of that,” I said, “did you meet anyone special while I was gone?”

His blush returned. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Any new women in your life?”

He shrugged. “No one serious.”

“Any unserious?”

He smiled. “There’s been a few.”

“Really?”

“Does that bother you?”

“No way. I’m happy for you. Mom’s been gone for four years now. You’re still young and handsome. It’s about time you got back on the horse.”

He chuckled and said, “Back in the saddle,”

His words created an image in my mind, and I tried to stop it but failed. When he said ‘saddle’, I thought of him lying between some strange woman’s legs.

Damn, I thought I was over this. I had spent my freshman year at college trying to get these images out of my head. I started off dating random guys, trying to find ones that looked as much unlike Shane as I could — thin nerdy looking guys who were polar opposites of this ruggedly handsome man. I even relieved a few of them of their virginity.

Then one day I met Steve in the library, and I stared at him in shock. He looked almost exactly like a twenty-one year old version of Shane, right down to the same shade of dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and muscular build. He asked me out on the spot, but I refused, committed to breaking free of this perverse attraction I had for my dead mom’s boyfriend.

But Steve was persistent, and finally I gave in, and I soon found myself lying in his bed with my legs spread and my toes pointed towards the ceiling, crying out in pleasure as he fucked me. Somewhere in the middle of it, the combination of his looks and the dim light got to me, and suddenly my brain became convinced that I was fucking Shane instead of Steve. Out of nowhere, my orgasm blasted through me, and I had to bite my lip to prevent myself from calling out the wrong name.

After that, I couldn’t get enough of Steve. We screwed every free minute we had, and I didn’t even try to lie to myself about what I was doing. Since I couldn’t fuck Shane, I was fucking the next best thing, and imagining it was him. When I took Steve’s cock into my mouth, I felt Shane’s hands gripping my hair. When I laid on my stomach, and Steve laid over me with his hard dick sliding into my pussy through my firm asscheeks, it was my Shane’s lips I felt kissing my neck through my long blonde hair. I reveled in it, and didn’t care how wrong it was. Steve was oblivious to it all, thinking he had the good fortune of dating a nymphomaniac.

One time, as Steve and I were removing each other’s clothes as we lay on his bed, my cell phone went off. I felt a small surge of excitement when I saw Shane’s name on the display. I answered it, and it turned out he was only calling to see how I was doing. He told me that if I was busy, he could call back later, but I hurriedly told him no, now would be fine. So we talked about mundane stuff, like my classes and his job.

Steve was lying next to me, propped up on his elbow, staring down at my naked body and waiting for me to finish the phone call. But I had other plans. My free hand slid around his neck, and I pulled him down to my breast. When his lips closed around my nipple, I almost gasped into the phone. The combination of his touch and Shane’s voice sent my desire skyrocketing.

As Shane told me about taking the car in to get it fixed, Steve’s mouth slid down over my stomach and found my sopping wet cunt, burying his tongue in it as I distractedly offered ‘uh huh’s into the phone. When Shane got to the part about the tires needing rotated, my orgasm burst through me in a white hot explosion, and I had to bite the pillow in order to keep myself from screaming. After we hung up, I came three more times as I rode Steve’s cock raw.

But as much as Steve was like Shane in bed, he was unlike him out of it. Fascinated with video games and Facebook, he was more like a boy than a man. Where Shane was calm and level-headed, Steve was rash and impulsive. Where Shane’s powerful body gave him quiet confidence, Steve allowed his insecurity to get the best of him.

The end came one night when we were at a bar together, playing pool. In the middle of a game, Steve walked over to small group of guys watching us play, and grabbed one of them by the throat.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” he said.

“Nothing,” the guy managed to choke out in gasps.

“That’s my girl’s ass you’ve been staring at all night, understand?”

I put my hand on Steve’s bicep and tried to pull him away. “Steve, let him go.”

But he shrugged me off and leaned into the kid. “I said, do you understand?”

The kid nodded and Steve shoved him backward, releasing him. “Don’t forget it,” he said.

As I stared at him, I knew it was over. After seeing this side of him, there was no way I would ever be able to imagine he was Shane again. Shane would never do something like this.

Steve grabbed my hand and we left. Looking back, I should have broke it off right there, but I thought it might be better if we spent the night together, and I would tell him in the morning when he had calmed down.

We drove to his place in silence, and as we got undressed for bed, he was still sullen.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” I said gently.

When he didn’t answer, I sat beside him on the bed and slipped my arm around his shoulder. “It’s ok. That guy doesn’t matter.”