Brandon yanked open the front door of his house on Sherwood Drive before Steve even had a chance to knock.
“Yo, dude. Can’t hang out here tonight. Mom’s kicking us out,” Brandon said.
“Why? D’you ruin the place?”
“No,” he said flatly. He stepped out of the house with his basketball under his arm.
Knowing his friend as he did, Steve recognized that flat answer with his trademark hint of flippancy meant he was intent on deflecting all questions. So Steve, of course, pressed on.
“Then what did you do to get kicked out?” Steve prodded to get the reason for Brandon’s answer, not to mention the fun he had upsetting his smart-mouthed friend.
Brandon redirected the inquiries. “You driving or me to the gym?”
“Not again!”
“Hey,” Brandon objected quickly, “I drove last time, punk, and I’m low on gas money.”
“Not another one,” Steve said.
“Another one what?”
“Your mom is going on a date?” Steve dragged out the question. He couldn’t hold back a grin. He tried to restrain himself, but the timing was too perfect not to jab Brandon.
“Yeah, Mom’s …” It sounded like he had to force out the statement, as if retching. He always hated this. “She’s going out.”
“So Mom’s hitting the dating scene again.”
And Steve’s comment did just what he wanted it to do. Brandon threw the basketball into Steve’s chest.
“Shut up before I kick your ass,” Brandon growled. “She’s just meeting with him. It’s not a date.”
“Yeah, for dinner, some drinks, which I would classify as a date.”
Steve lobbed the ball back, knowing he had chafed Brandon as much as he should for the time being. That one jab was enough before a fight ensued.
“I’ll drive tonight,” Steve offered, and then eyed Brandon, “Got a full tank.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean—a full tank?” Brandon chucked the ball at Steve again. Steve caught it as they walked to his car.
“I mean that we can make it to the gym without stopping by the 7-Eleven for gas.” He rolled the ball gently over the top of the car to Brandon.
Steve was quiet until he was away from the house where this man who was attracted to his mother—and his mother may think is good-looking—would be coming soon. Steve came back easier to the topic this time.
“Seriously, dude, have you met the guy?”
Brandon huffed and squeezed the ball between his hands. “I’ve seen him once. Said hi.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead and his hands gripping the ball.
“You think he’s a good one or a jerk? And this is a serious question.”
Brandon laser-beamed his sight through the windshield. “Not sure. I only saw him for about two minutes. He was picking up Mom and I was leaving to meet you at the gym.”
“You’ve got some say in …” Steve didn’t know how to finish.
“Do I have some say in who my mom dates, is that what you’re asking?”
“Maybe. I guess that’s the question. I don’t know. Your mom doesn’t go out a lot, at least I don’t think so. As much as I’m here, I’ve never seen her go out before.”
“Yeah, well, she tells me to split when she does.”
“So whenever you show up randomly at my place, I should assume she’s got a date?”
“Not a date!”
“Okay, meeting a guy for dinner and—”
“Why is my mother the topic of conversation, anyway? Can’t we talk about something—anything—else!”
“She kicked you out tonight. She’s the reason that we’re not relaxing inside, so that’s why she’s the topic.”
“Just shut up about her.”
From then on, Steve tiptoed around this topic. He knew he was stepping into a place littered with landmines. A misstep and his body would be blown apart.
But in a soft tone of voice, he asked, “Does she go out a lot?”
There was still a snarl in Brandon’s voice. “What do you care?”
“Just wondering.”
“With work, she doesn’t. No time, really.”
“She does work a lot. She’s got a lot of pressure.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean she’s big-time in a company. Duh. What do you think I was trying to say?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t trust you. You and your weird mind.”
“You’ve got the same mind.”
“Not about—”
Steve waved off Brandon’s defensiveness. At the gym that evening, they played a hard game of basketball. Brandon hit Steve with a few hard fouls, knocked him to the floor, and jammed a couple of elbows to his ribs. Sweaty and exhausted two hours later, they left the gym. Steve paused before he backed out his car from the parking spot.
“I don’t want to bring this up again but …” he dragged out the word. “Is it too early to go back? I mean she may come back … or I mean be dropped off … after her …”
“Shut up,” Brandon said smoothly. “I’m going to Mark’s house for the night. Drop me off at home. Then I’ll get my car.”
Steve left Brandon at the house. Driving back, he thought about Ms. Davis on a date. Maybe a sexy dress that outlined her curvy form. Or a low-cut blouse and skin-tight pants. High heels. An extra bounce for flirting.
“That dude is so lucky,” Steve mumbled in a singular conversation. “I’d love to go out with her.”
His mind went on thinking about one night alone with her—no Brandon, no clothes.
And he amused himself at the thought, though it was a stupid idea.
Then his horny mind birthed a conspiracy. Brandon was gone. It would be one night alone—albeit he would be the one alone and she would be with this guy—whoever he was. If anything, he would get a chance to see what she wore for this guy.
He wondered if she would kiss her date at the front door or would she even let him walk her there. She may end up hating the bastard. One man down, Steve thought. He would be ahead of one man in the long row of men available to Ms. Davis. He laughed again in his amusement and idiocy. But he decided to move forward with his plan.
An hour later, Steve had settled behind a low shrub into a dark corner of the Davis’s lawn. From his view, he could see the driveway and the garage and the walkway to the front door and the row of windows through which he had happened to see those naked pictures of Ms. Davis on the television. A pivotal moment in his life. He had fantasized about Ms. Davis since he became a teen but more intensely since those three images of her were tattooed in color on his mind.
Steve waited.
And waited. He checked his watch. 9:56.
He resettled himself behind the shrub, his legs uncomfortable, his fingers twitching in his growing boredom, fiddling with the pieces of chipped wood. He decided he could never be a sniper. He hated being still so long.
Soon, he was wondering when she was going to get back home and whether he should just go home.
Lying there, he developed a theory about the date scenario. Get back late, and it was a good date. Early, and it was a bad date. But get back really early or really late probably meant it was a great night and they wanted the really fun stuff. So far, it was between early and late, so there was no telling.
A pair of headlights appeared and bounced along Sherwood Drive. Steve flattened out, his cheek pressing into the mulch, hoping the bright lights wouldn’t happen to hit him. Those lights passed by. Wasn’t them.
He was left to think. Would Dawn be polite to her date, if she would give him a kiss on the cheek, if she would pull away from him as he leaned forward to get a kiss.
“Sorry, but I’m saving these lips for a friend of my son’s. I’m just waiting for him to make a move,” he imagined her saying as she pushed her date to arm’s length.
Another pair of headlights appeared. The lights turned onto their street. This time, the dark car slowed as it pulled into the driveway. This was them.
Steve didn’t recognize the car. It wasn’t Brandon’s or his mother’s.
The car stopped in front of the garage door. When the headlights turned off and only the parking lights were on, he could watch without a light blotch hindering his vision.
The car remained idling. No doors opened.
He construed that they must be talking.
Steve checked his watch. 10:39.
Considering the time, the date didn’t have an early end. Nearly 11 on a weeknight. At least that was his assumption. He guessed an early end would have been around 6, as late as 7. That would mean they hated each other so much a gourmet meal wasn’t worth the time or cost. Or it could mean that other thing.
The two had been in the car for a while—specifically 11 minutes. They were either winding up the date as chatty adults or egging it on with flirting. Steve didn’t notice bouncing or rocking in the car and didn’t hear the shocks and struts squeaking. Must only be talking.
Steve reminded himself that she was saving her mouth for him. Or more so he urged himself to hope.
Then the interior of the car lit up, giving a caramel color through the dark window tints. A door must have opened slightly. It wasn’t the driver’s side.
Steve checked his watch. 18 minutes after arriving.
The door didn’t fully open. She had started to open the passenger door, but he had her attention before she stepped out.
What was he saying to her?
“I had a great night.”
“You’re a gorgeous woman.”
“You got a great rack.”
“Want to go out again?”
“I don’t have any morning meetings. I can stay over.”
Steve shooed away all those possibilities from his mind.
But he wondered what if the date did go in and did stay over. Would he continue to watch? Would he go closer to the house, under her bedroom window?
He thought of Brandon who was at Mark’s house, probably playing video games or building PCs. If only he knew that his mother’s date wasn’t a bad one, that his mom hadn’t yet left the car. More strikingly, his friend was watching his mother and hoping she’d do something with the guy. That his mother would have sex! Brandon would be pissed off forever.
Steve’s heart rate sped up when the passenger door as well as the driver-side door opened.
They were getting out. This may get good. Steve snuggled deeper against the rough musky-smelling mulch.
He began to worry since she was out of the car and could potentially see him. What if she did see him? That’d be so embarrassing. He’d never go back to their house, never talk to Brandon again.
What would be his excuse? Nothing came to mind. He pushed aside the concern.
Ms. Davis and the man met at the front of the car. He was taller than her by a head. As much as Steve could see at night in the house’s outdoor lights. He was a lean guy, a dark blazer, and slacks, no tie. Dark hair, trimmed. No features that drew attention. An average dude.
They strolled toward the front door, more talking.
Ms. Davis’s head would lob side to side amiably and then she would look at the tall man by her when she spoke.
Ms. Davis looked good. A flimsy skirt and a button-up blouse. It was yellow or white depending on where she stood in the light. She held a clutch purse, awkwardly switching it from her left hand to her right hand and then holding it with both hands in front of her.
The pair paused at the front door of the house under the bright lights set on each side of the door. She turned toward him.
Steve saw her fabulous form, curvy and round. He had always thought she must have been tempting to all guys when she was young, and motherhood, stress from work, and age had made her even more tempting and voluptuous.
Their faces were brightened while standing there. Steve saw that she often smiled and talked. They were getting along.
Confirming that was her touch. He moved his arms as he spoke. She laughed and actually patted his forearm.
She grabbed the door handle but paused. This was the moment that would determine so much.
She asked him something with a smile. He shrugged his shoulders, conceding. And they went into the house together.
Steve was surprised. He honestly didn’t believe she would take her date inside. In fact, he expected an early date, likely with an amicable split in the driveway. She would walk alone to the front door. Maybe her head slightly down. Then she would be alone for the night. That’s how Steve anticipated it. He was wrong.
Now, Steve had another decision. Should he let Ms. Davis and her man be alone or should he continue his surveillance, even scouting nearer to the house?
He decided to give the couple ten minutes. If the date wasn’t gone, he would find a closer hideaway. Only six minutes later, he slinked around the yard, behind trees and bushes. He crouched at the corner of the house and moved catlike along the wall until he was under the large window through which he had seen those fabulous pictures of Ms. Davis. Through the window this time, he saw they each were standing with small drink glasses in hand. Ms. Davis pointing to a painting on the wall over the fireplace. Steve knew she liked the artwork—more than liked it. He was there when she first had the piece hung. She had stared at it, repeating that it was “breathtaking.”
Her date stood close to her—centimeters from her—as if he was admiring the painting too. Steve had a sneaking suspicion that he was listening for the sake of sex.
The man inside moved to her row of books on a shelf in the living room. He pulled out one book and slid it back in. Ms. Davis followed him.
She took out another book. Steve knew she had a lot of business books. Steve always teased Brandon, saying his mother had an unknown wild side because of her book titled BDSM, Business Decisions for Strategic Management.
The date downed his drink and set the glass on a small table. She put back the book and took his glass. She said something, left and quickly returned with a full glass.
Steve was stunned once more when Brandon’s mom took the man’s hand to guide him to the couch.
Steve ducked from the window because the couch faced that window across the room.
He crouched down into a tiny ball. He now wished that he had never done the spying. Getting caught would be the end of everything. No excuse, no reason, no explanation could convince someone this was normal or should have been done.
So Steve had options. Back up and leave the premises was the most obvious and logical. Or he could stay. He could remain hidden until the date left. With that option, he’d need to be out of sight in case they returned to the porch and stayed long. He was close to the porch, barely out of the light.
This far into the whole ordeal he decided to remain in place, maybe for just one more peek.
He rose up to his knees, touching the windowsill. He was like a puppy that had been left outside.
When he looked in, he was astounded.
Ms. Davis rested her arm on the back of the couch with her legs crossed, sitting sidesaddle. Her large thighs were bared slightly, and her chest was pointed at him. Obvious flirting. She was typically tucked into the couch, cuddling a pillow.
Steve mumbled her first name, as if lightly scolding her. “I can’t believe you.”
The man was settled in the cushions too. He was spread out more so in the corner of the couch, as if daring her to come toward him.
They were having a good conversation. These two had a connection, whether it was a physical attraction or simply no pause in an intriguing, in-depth conversation about a topic they both enjoyed.
Another pair of headlights sprayed brightness across the yard and onto the front of the house. He paused, stock-still. He felt like a prison escapee caught in the spotlight. After what seemed forever in Steve’s worry, the lights finally passed by. Nothing happened. Ms. Davis or her date didn’t notice him.
After a couple of minutes of rebuilding his assuredness, Steve rose to peek in.
His eyes nearly popped. He gasped.
Ms. Davis had already leaned forward as had the man. They were kissing!
Their kisses were soft and cautious, but they turned intense.
If Brandon knew he would die!
To Steve, this evening she was no longer Ms. Davis. She was Dawn! Not Dirty Dawn but she was getting down with her date.
The man’s hand had slid down her bared thigh to rest on her large ass cheek. Her hand first ran through his dark hair but then moved down to the center of his chest. Then their heads began to twist and turn in their deep kissing. His hand moved to her waist and tugged her closer. She readjusted her leg to his. Her legs were spread, if only slightly.
Dawn broke the kiss.
Did she believe she had gone too far, let herself be wooed by this man?
But she touched his bottom lip with her finger sensuously. She leaned into him again with more force. Her dress rose higher until it was obvious that she had on tiny panties because they were yet to be seen.
“Damn, Dawn!” Steve hissed in a whisper. “You got that wild side.”
The two made-out on the couch for a long time. No clothing came off—technically. She brushed his spindly hands away from her breasts several times. The next time, when his hands neared her chest, she redirected them to her butt. He took a deep grip on her flesh. She arched her back—maybe in pain—breaking their kiss again.
Dawn wiped her lips with the back of her hand. She was obviously breathing heavily.
She stood. She tugged her dress to cover her legs. She was trying to regain control of the situation, of herself.
The date stood too, after being left alone on the large couch. He seemed to be apologetic, putting both hands on her shoulders, while her back was to him.
Maybe they liked each other too much to go too far. Maybe he was from her office—a subordinate—or a board member of her company. He looked young to be a typical rich member of a board of directors that was guiding a growing engineering firm to success. However, anything was possible nowadays. It was even possible for Dawn to go all the way tonight. The thought shot a wave of excitement through his veins.
Dawn and her date went out of Steve’s sight from the window. They had gone to the kitchen. Steve knew the house’s layout well enough.
He thought about various window options. The back porch!
The house was built on a hill. The backyard was lower than the front. The porch was even with the main floor, so it was high enough that there was a door underneath that led to the game room in the basement.
He would be left in a tougher position if he went to the backyard. It was the floodlights. They would illuminate at the slightest movement. Sneaking in late one night, he and Brandon had been caught by his mom. It didn’t end well for them.
He could settle under the porch. They may step out of the house to cool off their heat. He laughed at the idea of sneaking into the basement door to the game room. He knew the passcode to unlock it. He’d have a better excuse for being around if he was found in the game room than prowling in the dark. “Hi, Ms. Davis, I was waiting for Brandon and Mark. Are they not coming? I am so, so sorry. I must have misunderstood him. Can I join you on the couch?”
There were so many places in the house Dawn could take her date. But there were so many places she would not go.
Steve opted to head to the back, despite the floodlights. In fact, Steve thought he might be able to use the lights to his advantage.
He ran down the front of the house and dashed across the driveway. He slipped down the steep slope of the backyard.
He triggered the floodlights and darted into the grove of trees at the edge of the yard.
The light brightened the manicured green grass, the fire pit in the center, and that broad porch.
“What am I doing?” he cursed as he stood straight behind a large oak. He regretted his choice. “I am so stupid. So stupid. I gotta get out of here.”
But Dawn led her date onto the porch.
“The deer and other animals always trigger these lights,” she was saying.
“You’ve done quite a job out here. I am impressed,” he said. “I enjoy a good backyard. It can be a place to find some rest.”
“You never know what’s out there though,” Dawn responded. “Someone could be watching us right now.”
They laughed.
“How often do you use the fire pit?” he asked.
“Me, not often. I have been too busy with this new business contract. I just can’t relax enough. My son and his friends use it, so it’s not just a lawn ornament.”
There was a pause in their conversation. They stared beyond the lights, into the dark of the trees. Steve prayed they would not notice the voyeur.
The date turned his back and leaned against the railing. He admired the house. Through the large windows into the well-lit kitchen, dining room, and the living room where that now renown couch was. In the future, whenever Steve would sit on that couch, he would remember what happened on her date.
“You have an amazing house. Not as amazing as you are,” the date said.
Steve gagged at the stupidity of the man’s statement.
“Aw, you’re kind,” Dawn said and swatted his arm.
The man turned to her. He touched her shoulder. “You’ve shown me a lot of the house. I want to see more. Can you show me?”
“Which room do you want to see?”
Steve was astounded by Dawn’s response. And in a luring tone of voice.
“Do you have any other large pieces of art you want to show me?”
Not so bad, Steve thought.
She was the piece of art that the date wanted. He didn’t care about some painting, what it means, or the style and the period in which it was painted.
Steve thought about the house and the art. The living room piece was her favorite. She had another painting in the formal dining room. It was one of those abstract paintings that makes no sense to the average person and the creative people have to act like they understand its meaning and beauty. And Dawn had one more painting. It was in the large hallway that led to her office—the same hall that she ran down to demand that Steve drop the remote control before turning on the TV. Then a door away was her bedroom. If she took him to see that painting …
“Sure, I have more to show you,” Dawn said.
“Oh, shit! Dawn, you are showing your wild side,” Steve whispered in his astonishment.
If Brandon knew!
Leaving the porch, Dawn started toward the abstract piece. Though unable to hear, Steve could see that the date redirected her, pointing to the hallway. She urged him the other way. He did not intend to go, and Dawn soon conceded.
Steve needed another hideout. He could not see into the window to her office. He’d have to climb a tree, and he couldn’t do that. His only remaining option was going near her bedroom window. Being at the front corner of the house, he had two windows to look into, if the man could convince Dawn into her bedroom. That’d the crazy.
What other choice did he have? He could potentially miss a lot of action. His scouting may have ended right then.
Steve edged his way through the trees to avoid triggering the lights and up the slope to the main floor.
On the first window of her bedroom, Steve found the blinds to her room closed. It wasn’t unusual. She wasn’t one to let the neighbors see her private side. Although her son’s friend had seen quite a bit, Steve thought. He was surprised by the second window. It didn’t face the street but only the remaining trees. The curtain was down, but it was relatively sheer. He would be able to see forms and movements but few details
He tucked himself at the base of the window. For three minutes, Steve remained there, stuck in limbo. Should he find another place to hole up? Would Dawn take her date into her bedroom? Which would mean the night went well.
No forms appeared briefly in the bedroom. At seven minutes, Steve opted to return to the front window.
He crawled—hands and knees—over the mulch and stones down the front until he was settled again by the window. He peeked in.
Dawn had led them from the hallway and back to the couch. Steve was relieved he had found them, even if they weren’t in the bedroom.
The two were chatting again. Hearing the man on the porch and his attempt to guide Dawn toward the hallway, the guy wanted more than a few kisses.
Steve wondered if Dawn planned to keep him at bay. She now had a little more space between her and her date. It was hard to determine the chemistry between them after Dawn had broken up their make-out session.
Meanwhile, Steve was there, urging Dawn’s date to move again.
“Come on, dude. You don’t have much time. Do not waste this whole night.”
The date made Dawn laugh.
Good sign.
Dawn rested her elbow on the back of the couch and held her head in her hand. She had eased, become comfortable.
He talked some more, pushing the conversation. Then there was a pause between them. Steve held his breath in anticipation.
The date touched her shoulder and then leaned forward. His hand moved to her knee, and he kissed her cheek again.
Dawn let him place a short kiss on her cheek.
Steve’s heart cheered with a sudden set of thumps. Keep going!
He kissed her other cheek.
Dawn didn’t seem to react. Maybe she was trying to withstand him, to control herself, to limit the night while getting as much pleasure as possible.
He moved his hand higher on her thigh. His fingers touched the hem of her dress. Dawn didn’t move, not disallowing him or reacting to his hands.
He shifted in the couch and took her left hand. He massaged it. Dawn’s body eased. The wall she had built was down. This date must have said he knew massage secrets.
Steve noted one of Dawn’s likes: a hand massage.
Dawn brushed her hair over her shoulder, which gave her date full view of her neck. He pulled her hand toward him and he leaned in for a kiss.
He placed his lips on her neck. A vampire-like kiss. Dawn put her hands on his head to hold him there. She had fallen once more into desire.
His hands brought hers to his lower back. Then those hands of his snaked under her dress. He was not waiting this time. Patience was a virtue he had left on the porch.
His hand raised the flimsy fabric so her full thigh and her waist was bared. Steve saw her band of dark panties.
He begged for him to get her naked. It was one thing to see digital images of her but in real life—albeit through a windowpane—was on a whole new level.
Dawn suddenly pushed him forward, so he was flattened on the couch. For an instant Steve wondered if she was angry. She wasn’t. She lifted her skirt to make it akin to a tutu at her waist. Then she climbed on top of him and plunged with passion.
Her panties were tiny, especially in comparison to her ass.
Steve’s mouth was suddenly parched and a pulse in his temples quickened steadily at seeing all this. Brandon’s mom was making out with some guy that Brandon had met just once. She was going at it too. She was on top and was intense.
Then his shirt came off. He retaliated. Her dress came over her head. Both pieces of clothes were flat and forgotten on the floor.
The date raised up and put Dawn on her back. The woman’s legs spread to allow him to get closer to her. They kissed more.
The date’s lips went down her neck again, two quick touches of his lips on her collarbones and then he went to her breasts. They removed her bra, tossing it aside. And he gobbled up her tits. Dawn obviously loved it. Her hands again ruffled his hair into a mess. Her legs wrapped around him, her ankles locking, then unlocking to rub along his torso.
Unfortunately, Steve could not hear the tantalizing sounds of this couple’s sex. He wanted to hear Dawn cry out or moan, to hear his body slap against hers, to listen to him command her to fuck him and suck his dick, to hear her cum with a wild shout. That window blocked so much. It was a porn video on mute.
But Dawn stopped. She pushed him up. Steve wondered if she was going down to her knees. He knew she sucked dicks. In that one picture of her he saw, she had a large cock in her mouth.
That’s not what happened. Dawn wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She slid into her dress, foregoing her bra.
She and her date had a discussion. He wanted more. She felt she had gone pretty far on their date. Soon the front door opened.
“I’m sorry if I upset you,” he walked out saying.
“It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I let things get too out of hand,” she said.
“Can I see you again?” he asked.
“Yes.” The word fumbled out of her mouth, as if she was unsure about seeing him again.
“I hope we can get together. I enjoyed tonight—especially our conversation.” He smiled. He must have known her tone of voice. He obviously avoided how much he enjoyed things after the conversation.
He left, dejected, and sped away. Now Dawn was alone in the house.
Steve saw her pick up her bra and then leave the living room. Maybe she was …
Steve scrambled backward to her bedroom window. Through the sheer curtain, he saw Dawn’s form enter through the door. She shed her dress.
Dawn lay down on the bed. She didn’t wait. She grabbed something. Steve could kind of tell what it was. When she put it between her legs, it became obvious. She pumped it, twisting her head and arching her back. She went faster and harder and deeper. She reached to a breast, massaging it and then pulling her nipple, stretching it.
Steve pulled out his long-hardened dick and stroked. He imagined her shouting, “Steve, I held off, waiting for you. I didn’t want him. I want to fuck you!”
Steve watched her masturbate, fucking herself wholeheartedly. She was animated. When he heard a wild shout, he felt a welling up inside of him too. At the second shout from Dawn, he shot hot cum all over the wall of the house and the mulch.
In his woozy, tired state, he peeked into the window once more. Dawn was flat but holding up a long dildo, as if staring at the greatest dick she’d felt in a long time—if ever. It was a perfect silhouette of a woman basking in her orgasm.
Steve sneaked into the dark.
He saw Brandon a week later and moved the conversation toward the topic of the date.
“How’d the date go?” Steve asked.
“I don’t know. Why would I know? Why do you want to know?”
“No reason.” Steve forced an innocent shrug. “I just want to be prepared for when we’ll be kicked out of the house.”
“We may get booted out next week sometime.”