Sons (14 page)

Alexandra echoed Colin’s shy confession. “I’ve never been this close to a boy before. I mean… alone.”

“Yeah. Umm… Zan?”

“Yes,” she said eagerly.

“Do you like me?”

She giggled. “Of course I like you!”

“I don’t mean like that.” Colin stammered the words. “I mean do you
like
, like me?”

Momentarily puzzled by his words and her own feelings, Alexandra looked down, trying to hide the uncertainty that she knew her eyes would betray. She had never liked boys before, except as friends, but Colin was different. He was kind, and he made her feel that whatever she had to say was the most important thing he was going to hear that day. He was funny too. Before she met him, Alexandra had concluded that boys were funny in a stupid way. Colin made her laugh in a good way. Then there was her desire to see him naked, to feel his skin against hers, to taste his kisses… the real kind, and more. She had fantasized about it since their first meeting. Alone in bed, she would stroke herself into a frenzied release that left her aching for him.

I suppose this is what love is supposed to feel like
, she thought.

Alexandra blushed, lifted her head, paused to catch her breath, and looked into his eyes.

“Yes, Colin. I
like
, like you.”

Colin exhaled a long-held breath. His voice trembled with a combination of anxiety and relief.

“I’m glad. I like you too,” he said.

Somewhere downstairs a clock chimed two bells.

Now what do I do?
he wondered.

Alexandra waited patiently, wondering, too, if something was expected of her.

The two stood gazing into one another’s eyes as Colin reached out his hand, waiting for an eternity counted off in heartbeats, not knowing if Alexandra noticed the gesture or if she would respond. Then he felt her soft hand slip into his damp palm. He gave an instinctive tug, and she inched forward against his chest.

“Your hand is sweaty,” she said.

“I’m sweaty all over… I’m sorry.”

“I think guys are supposed to be hot all over.”

“What about girls?”

“Girls too.”

Colin nuzzled his lips against Alexandra’s slender neck.

“You smell good.”

“Tender Touch.”

“Thanks.”

“No. I mean that’s the name of my perfume.”

Colin’s face clouded an embarrassed red.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“’S okay.” Alexandra giggled as she pressed her lips to Colin’s cheek. Her body trembled ever so slightly. She felt her skin heating up, yearning for that first forbidden touch.

Colin felt his cock tighten against his cotton briefs.

His thighs shook like willow trees in a gale.

He thought,
It’s now or never.

Boldly, he slipped his hand around Alexandra’s waist. With the other, he cupped her breast.

Alexandra pulled his hand away yet remained willingly in his arms.

“I think you’re supposed to kiss me first,” she said as she tilted her head slightly.

“Have you ever deep kissed a guy before?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“No—I never wanted to before.”

“Me neither, I mean, I never deep kissed anybody before….”

They touched lips, allowing their tongues a long moment of pleasure before breaking away.

“Whaddya think?” Colin said.

“Good… more,” Alexandra said, pressing herself deeper against Colin’s chest.

T
HE
new lovers lay in a tangle of damp sheets. Colin scooted up, then down, then to the left.

“What
are
you doing?” Alexandra said.

“Looking for a dry place to put my butt! How come it’s never messy in the movies?”

“Here. It’s a little drier here.”

Alexandra pulled Colin over and onto her body.

Colin’s cock instantly responded, hips thrusting, pushing against her pubis. Alexandra’s mouth, slightly bruised from hard kissing, sought out Colin’s equally sore lips. Once again, their bodies fitted together, curve for curve, like a jigsaw puzzle. Once again, he was inside her, pressing deeper than before, measuring, adjusting his thrusts to hers.

Colin thought,
This feels so right. Queers have no idea what they’re missing.

The downstairs clock warned four bells. For a moment, they froze. With a sigh of regret, Colin pulled away from her. He slid back onto the bed, looked her over, and smiled.

“I like your body, Zan, I mean, it looks so nice. It feels good too. I was surprised.”

“Did you think it would be ugly?” she accused, her passion dampened.

“Oh no! I thought… well… I thought your breasts would be hard.”

“Oh, thanks. Just what a girl wants to hear.”

Colin chewed his lower lip.
Well, Mr. Smooth, you screwed that up
…
jerk
!

He waited for the moment to pass.

“Well, the only breasts I’ve ever seen are the ones on statues or in pictures. They look hard, not soft.”

Alexandra giggled and then realized that Colin was serious and that she was embarrassing him.

“I’m sorry.” She giggled again. “I
am
sorry, Colin. I can’t help it, but didn’t you think there’d be a difference between a statue and a live person? Besides, haven’t you ever seen a statue of a man before? You’re not hard like that… I mean you’re hard like you’re supposed to be, not like stone, or something….”

“I don’t look at statues of naked men! I’m not queer or anything like that!” Colin said, his raised voice suddenly defensive.

Interesting,
Alexandra thought.
I wonder what that’s all about
.

“Don’t break out in a rash, Colin. I was just comparing stone to flesh!”

Colin looked up at the ceiling in confused silence. He rolled onto his stomach, reached over, and lightly stroked Alexandra’s neck with his fingertips. The resulting fire shot down to her thighs and made them quiver. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Four thirty. No time.

“Zan?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“If you’re going to ask me if it was good, don’t! All the books say that guys who ask are just insecure and want reassurance.”

How did she know I was going to ask that?

“Well, how’s a guy supposed to know then? I mean, you could
tell
with me,” he said.

Colin blushed as he felt a drop of late arriving cum leak onto his leg.

Alexandra stared at the ceiling. She wasn’t sure if she’d had an orgasm. It wasn’t like the orgasms she experienced the times she’d masturbated, where her fantasies dominated her search for pleasure. With Colin inside her, the sensations were stronger. His hot skin was real. His kisses were urgent and longer lasting, but she admitted, the finale was not as intense as she had expected.
Different, but definitely better
was her final assessment.

She looked at the bedside clock. “We’d better get dressed.”

“Are you mad at me? I mean, for asking.”

Alexandra snuggled against Colin’s shoulder.

“No, of course not.”

Taking his hand, she said, “Help me get these sheets off and remake the bed. Then let’s go over to Schrafft’s, and you can buy me a sundae.”

A few minutes later, the two walked hand in hand through Rittenhouse Square and crossed Walnut Street.

They did not walk unobserved.

Twenty-One

M
ARSHA
entered Alexandra’s bedroom. Finding it empty, she crossed over into the computer room and walked to where her daughter sat engrossed, typing an e-mail. Marsha stood behind Alexandra and fidgeted with the clasp on her bracelet while her daughter finished. Looking over Zan’s shoulder, she read the address, CJPhillips@ zip.com.

As Alexandra clicked on send, a wallpaper photo replaced the e-mail window. Marsha let out a short gasp. There, staring at her, was a spitting image of her boss!

“Zan! Where did you get a photo of Mr. Phillips?”

Alexandra turned in her chair, laughing.

“Oh, Mom, that’s not Mr. Phillips. It’s his son, Colin. He goes to All Souls.”

“Oh!” Marsha said, relieved.

Marsha had come to have a heart-to-heart talk with her daughter. She knew she should have had this conversation long before now, but as it stood,
now
had to be the time. She bent forward to get a better look at the young face smiling sheepishly for the camera. Dazzling eyes of blue sapphire and corn silk lashes stared back with smoldering innocence.

She thought,
Geez, he looks just like Jan! They could be twins. Okay. Better get this over with.

Marsha pulled a chair up to the desk and sat down. “Zan, honey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Alexandra looked at her mother, her eyes questioning the suddenly serious tone of Marsha’s voice.

“Okay, what is it?”

“Bridget did the laundry yesterday.”

Marsha took a deep breath.

“She showed me your bed sheets. Zan….”

“Mom! I had a snack and I spilled some milk…. Okay?”

Despite her protest, Zan’s face paled in the glare of her mother’s accusation.

“No, it’s not okay.”

Marsha was close to losing her temper.

“Zan, this is serious business. Milk was spilled on the bed, but it didn’t come from any cow. Bridget found bloodstains on those sheets too. We have something big to talk about, young lady! Now don’t try to tell me you cut yourself shaving, or we’ll have to see about getting you a transfusion!”

Caught!

Alexandra knew there was no way out of this conversation. She crumbled into tears.

“I can’t believe Bridget told you,” she complained. “Why can’t I have some privacy? It’s
my
life, you know!”

“Zan, no one comes in here snooping around, and you know it. And yes, it is your life, but you’re not the adult in this house. I am, and what I say goes! Look, what you do affects me too, not just whomever you’re sleeping with. You
do
see that, don’t you?”

Alexandra wiped a tear from her cheek, looked down at her shoes, and said nothing.

“Zan?” Marsha prodded.

“What?” Alexandra didn’t look up.

“Am I at least allowed to know who the boy is? I assume it is a boy.”

Colin’s outburst about not being “queer” sprang to Alexandra’s mind.

“Of course it’s a
boy
. Do you think I’m gay?”

Marsha gave a little chuckle.

“To be honest, I didn’t think of that, but no, I meant he’s a boy, as in someone your own age.”

Alexandra gave her mother a quizzical look.

“Of course he is.”

Marsha shook her head. This was exactly what she didn’t get about being a parent!

“Zan, dear, there are boys, and then there are
boys
. I just want to be sure you haven’t gotten involved with someone who’s too old for you.”

Alexandra crossed her arms over her chest and slouched deeper into her chair.

“Well I haven’t! Satisfied?” she said defiantly.

Marsha waited a few moments for the rest of her answer. She wasn’t about to be baited into a screaming match, but she didn’t have all evening either.

“Well?” she said with calm insistence.

“Well what?”

“Who is he? What’s his name?”

Alexandra looked at her mother and then darted her eyes toward the computer monitor.

Colin’s sweet face looked back, digitally frozen in time.

“Colin! But, Zan, do you know how old he is?”

“He’s
my
age, and besides, he’s very mature for his age.”

Marsha thought,
Mature. Hmmm, does that mean he has a big dick or that he can read James Joyce and understand him?
She’s young, but no younger than I was when I gave in to my first love.

She summarized the plusses and minuses of Zan’s sexual involvement with the son of a powerful man. A man who just happened to be Marsha’s employer. On a professional level, she knew Jan Phillips very well. She knew him less so away from the office.

How will he take this? How will he react when I tell him about Zan
and
how I got her?
she wondered.

Then there was Zan herself. Until now, Marsha’s daughter had shown no interest in boys. Was this just a reaction to surging hormones, or was there something deeper? Could there be something deeper between the two youngsters?

Marsha looked at Alexandra.

She’s headstrong like I am. If I try to stop her from seeing Colin, she’s likely to do anything. On the other hand, if I encourage her, she’ll get her heart broken. Well, if she has to get a broken heart, it’s better coming from him than me,
she reasoned.

“Okay, Zan. You win. You can see him, but no sneaking, understand?”

“But, when…?”

“Privacy, Zan, doesn’t mean having sex behind my back. You’ll have your privacy, but I don’t want any more surprises. If you’re going to have him over here, I want to know about it. Okay?”

Marsha frowned. Filled with a foreboding she couldn’t resist, she wasn’t about to seal this agreement with a phony smile.

This was new territory for Zan. Until now, she had never thought of defying her mother. She thought about Colin.