Gary Johns - A Mother’s Mistakes

It was six fifteen and Allison Hudson was late… again. The Friday afternoon traffic had been a bear and there was an accident on the freeway that tied up all three lanes for over a half-hour. It seemed that the traffic was getting worse by the day. Just a few years ago, suburbia was open land, rolling hills and lush greenery… now there didn’t seem to be a square acre on which to put another house or strip mall. Allison was glad that she lived further out where neighbors were not at the end of the driveway, however the daily commute was getting harder to take, if not already unbearable.

Allison thumped the steering wheel with her fingers impatiently and looked at the other commuters who were just as anxious to get home as she was. Well, maybe not quite that anxious. Bradley, her husband was out of town and her 18-year-old son, Christopher, was staying with a friend tonight. It wasn’t often that she got the house to herself. Well, not exactly to herself… Jason was due over at 7:30. The thought of Jason created a stirring between her legs. Yet, there was also fear. It would be the first time since they had started the affair over a year ago that he was coming to her house. They would be fucking in her bed… the bed she had shared with her husband for almost nineteen years. It was dangerous and crazy but excitement had overcome her fears.

At thirty-eight years old, Allison thought that her sex drive was greater now than it had ever been. She had read somewhere that women do not hit their sexual peak until their mid-thirties. That had certainly been true in her case; it seemed that all she thought of these days was sex. In fact, sometimes she thought that she was a nymphomaniac, although she had heard that nymphomaniac’s didn’t receive fulfillment. That certainly wasn’t true in her case… sometimes she climaxed so many times that she thought she would lose consciousness. Still, maybe it was Jason and his kinky ways that made the sex so incredible. He was unlike anyone she had ever met. He was handsome, strong, and very dominant. He made her do things… and feel things… things that a married thirty-something businesswoman with a PHD in biotechnology shouldn’t be doing or feeling. It was so wrong, but felt so good. She couldn’t deny him.

Incredibly she still loved her husband, Bradley. He had always been good to her… maybe that was the problem… he was too good to her. Or maybe the problem was that he was eighteen years her senior and had developed health problems two years ago… a triple bypass. Their sexual relationship had never been spectacular, but it dropped to nothing, nada, zilch, after the surgery. The doctor said the blood pressure medicine and blood thinners could have a negative effect on his libido. However they hadn’t said it would kill it all together.

Allison and Bradley had met in college. He was a professor at the time and she an advanced graduate student. She had graduated from high school at sixteen and was recruited by almost every major university with a biotech program. Everyone said it was her destiny to do great things. Unfortunately, most of her young life had been filled with books and studying… no time for boyfriends and sex. In fact, she had been a virgin until Bradley.

From Allison’s appearance, no one would know of the simmering desires below the surface. For most of her life, she had done what she could to hide her good looks and shapely figure. At work she wore unattractive horn-rimed glasses and rather dowdy clothes, covered by the always-present white lab coat. She was tall at five foot eight, preferring to wear low heels most of the time… since Bradley was only five nine. She weighed 135 lbs, with mid-length dirty blonde hair that she kept in a bun most of the time. She had a trim waist with a mature flare to her hips, created by the birth of her only son, Christopher, and she still had a very shapely backside as a result of hours on the Stairmaster. Her eyes were gray/green with a sparkle that belied her prudish exterior. She felt that her nose was a little to sharp, but it fit her somewhat sharp and model-like features well. Her cheeks were naturally rosy and her pouting lips always seemed to show a hint of a smile. Her breasts were the size of small grapefruits, still firm for her age, with large dark brown nipples that grew to almost a half inch when she was excited. On the rare occasion when she allowed herself the remove her lab jacket at work, she got plenty of unwanted stares. That was distressing to her because she worked hard to keep the appearance of the perfect professional woman. She was a strong and firm manager. Although some of her jealous male subordinates would say that she was "a ball buster." Some even called her a "dyke" behind her back. She had heard the whispers. But she didn’t really care.

Now in her late thirties however the glasses were gone, thanks to Lasik surgery, and she had upgraded her wardrobe to a more modern and somewhat fashionable style. While still not incredibly sexy, the skirts were a little shorter and the sweaters a little tighter. It seemed to help with her career as she had gotten two promotions since she changed her style of dress. She knew that she had accomplished a lot on her job, and deserved her promotions, but she also realized that a little harmless flirting never hurt.

Allison looked over at the tired commuters as they sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic, their windows closed to keep out the belching smoke. A smile came to her face when she saw the guy in the car next to her look over. His weary face turned to a smile as well. She wondered what he would think if he knew that she wasn’t wearing panties, or that she had her skirt pulled up, almost to her waist, revealing the soft flesh of her inner thighs above the thigh high nylons that Jason always made her wear. Without turning her eyes from his stare, her hand dropped between her thighs and her fingers found her swollen sex lips. The guy was still smiling at her as a finger slipped deep into her warm hole.

She squirmed on the probing digit and thought of the phone call from Jason. She had been sitting at her desk making notes on a legal pad when the phone rang. For some reason she had been thinking about sex all day. "Take your panties off," he had said without so much as a "hello". "I can’t. I’m at my desk," she protested. "Do it," he returned firmly. Looking though her door and seeing her assistant talking to someone with her back toward her, she obediently reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down and off. A gasp escaped her lips when she saw the wetness on the crotch. She quickly stuffed the slip of material into her pocketbook. Then he told her to play with her already swollen sex lips until they were dripping. When she protested again, saying she had an important meeting in ten minutes with her staff, he just laughed and said that that was perfect. Through the entire meeting she could feel her swollen lips pulsing and worried that she would have a wet spot on the back of her skirt when she got up.

Now she was stuck in this infernal Friday afternoon traffic, only made bearable by the feeling of her finger slipping in and out of her now dripping hole. The car quickly filled with a squishing sound and the sweet aroma of her excitement.

The blare of horns from behind awoke Allison from her daydream. When she looked ahead, she saw that the traffic had begun to move. She pressed the gas petal to the floor.

The house was gloriously quiet when Allison rushed through the door. She had less than an hour to get showered and changed before Jason arrived. So much for taking a bubble bath and relaxing with a glass of wine… or two. No, now she would have to rush to get ready. She needed to shave her legs and… shave her private parts… that was always a requirement for Jason. He wanted her sex lips smooth. She could still remember how shocked Bradley had been the first time he had seen it. Still, he didn’t really care since he hadn’t made love to her for over two years. Now she had gotten used to the feeling of her hairless sex lips rubbing against her panties. It was a constant reminder of her sexuality.