Summary: Lisa’s son-in-law decides to show her exactly how hard things can get from a simple act of kindness.
*
I pulled into the driveway, glad to finally be home. I’d had a long day at work then had to stop for groceries afterward. All the way home all I could think about was putting everything away then slipping into a nice hot relaxing bath before starting dinner.
I got out of my car and started grabbing the bags from the trunk, turning toward the house I heard cursing coming from the garage and veered in that direction to take the side door. Pushing the door open fully with my foot I found my husband’s son, Nick, fumbling under the hood of his truck, again. Upon hearing the door open he turned and saw me with the bags.
“Oh good,” he stated with relief. “I’m glad you’re home. I could use your help with this,” he added, pointing to his truck.
“Alright, let me get these inside, I still have a couple more bags in the car, and I’ll help after I put it all away.”
Okay,” he agreed, nodding his head. “I’d help carrying them in but I’m all greasy from the engine,” he stated half in apology.
“It’s alright. I got it.”
“You might want to change while you’re in there,” he half shouted in my direction as I entered the house via the kitchen from the garage. “This is really dirty. You would definitely mess up your nice clothes.” I yelled back that I heard him and continued on my way.
I’ve been married to Nick’s father, Ben, for six years, after we dated for four years. Needless to say I’ve been around to watch his son grow up. He was about ten when Ben and I had met, and we both had agreed from the beginning that I wouldn’t be the ‘new mommy’ to the boy. He had had a bad enough time dealing with his parent’s divorce without me coming in and trying to ‘take over’. I had simply taken things one day at a time and focused on my relationship with Ben.
Over the years Nick and I had formed a friendship, and even though I rarely told him what to do from a parental stand point, I would drop hints of warning if I noticed him heading for trouble, especially to save him from pissing off his father. Sometimes he listened, and sometimes he didn’t. These last few years had been touch and go, his teen years. He’d had his share of girls, drugs, tickets, and just plain bad luck. But none of that was so severe for Ben to send him off packing.
Nick was twenty years old now and finally enrolled in college. He’s finally getting his shit together and starting to take life seriously. To help Nick out, Ben insisted that he stay at home while juggling a job and school so he wouldn’t have the burden of bills to worry about just yet.
So my coming home and being asked to crawl under the hood of a truck wasn’t out of the norm for our lifestyle. I’d just change into my ‘dirty’ clothes and see how I can help. I put the bags on the table then went out through the front door to get the rest from my car, closing the front door on my way back inside the house. I put the groceries away and turned to go to the bedroom to change when I heard a stream of cursing from the garage and a loud bang. Darting to the door to the garage I yelled if he was okay and got a muffled ‘yea,’ in response.
“I need you to hold this, though!”
Without hesitation I stepped into the garage and peered into the engine of the truck, meeting Nick’s gaze from the under side. “You couldn’t wait ten minutes?”
“I thought I could hold it and get the bolt in myself. Can you grab that and hold it still for me?”
Shifting my gaze I saw the ‘that’ in question wobbling back and forth in Nick’s hand. I reached in and took hold of the… whatever it was and held it as still as possible. “Why can’t they make these things easier to get to when you have to fix them?” I asked rhetorically.
Nick slid out from under the truck and came around to my side. “Cause then you wouldn’t have to pay some mechanic to put it up on a lift to fix it for you.” He leaned further into the engine, reaching his hands in beside mine. “Can you move your hand without…”
As soon as he started the question I knew he needed more room and shifted my hand around the part. I might not know what the things are called, but I’d helped Ben and Nick fix their truck troubles enough to anticipate what they needed.
“Perfect! Hold it just like that.”
He stepped closer to me in order to reach in and put the bolts in their slots. The right side of his body was pressing up against the left half of my back and ass. I could smell the remnant of his shower gel and shampoo as he breathed and huffed to get the damn bolts in.
“Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a bolt clanking through the engine to land on the concrete floor. “You still got that?”
“Yea,” I answered, still not knowing what ‘that’ was, but it didn’t matter. I knew what he was talking about.
He straightened up and crawled under the truck for the bolt, cursing and mumbling the whole while. I couldn’t help the smile that crept on my face. ‘Like father like son,’ I thought to myself.
He stood back up and pulled his shirt off in agitation, tossing it waywardly to the side. “I hope this is the right size,” he said, looking closely at the bolt in his hands. “I’ll be pissed if that guy sold me the wrong fucking part.”
I was supposed to be looking at his hands turning that bolt around in his fingers while he studied the grooves, but somehow I saw through that bolt of metal to the muscle tone of his tanned chest. It was hard to believe that this was the same scrawny, skinny little boy of a few years ago. He filled out nice as he grew up, building muscle tone with hard work, getting a tan while doing roofing jobs or other outside work.
He looked up at me by only moving his eyes and I met his gaze easily. “Want to give it one more try?” I asked.
He didn’t answer me as he raised his head to look me fully in the face. His expression had changed in that split second. It was guarded now and thoughtful.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, as he walked around me to try again. This time he avoided as much contact with me as possible as he reached in to secure the part.
“Nothing,” he replied curtly, his tone suggesting otherwise. So did his body language. He seemed tense all of a sudden and I had no idea what had caused it.
I remained quiet while he fumbled to get the bolts in, not letting him know that the part was starting to get heavy in my fingers and my wrist was cramping from holding it at an odd angle. I kept telling myself, ‘he just needs one more minute’, willing myself to not let the part slip out of place.
Then suddenly he dropped the bolt again and I wasn’t so certain it had been accidental this time. He breathed in deeply and placed his hands on the fender of the truck.
“Are you okay?” I finally asked. “Maybe I can give it a try, this thing is starting to get heavy, we could switch.”
“You have no fucking idea what you do sometimes, do you?” he snapped at me in agitation.
“Excuse me?” I returned indignantly. “I know you’re agitated about the truck but that’s no reason to take it out on me! I’m the one trying to help you!”
I expected him to turn away mumbling a sorry, crawl under the truck for the bolt, and we would carry on as though nothing went wrong. That is how it always was when he got uptight like that.
He started to turn his head away but then stopped. His eyes slid to their corners to look at me peripherally before slowly turning his head to face me fully. “No,” he stated with conviction. “I’m not letting it slide this time.” He moved closer to me, making me tilt my head up just that extra couple of inches to keep eye contact. “I’ve ignored that look you get sometimes since I turned eighteen, and I’m not ignoring it anymore.”
“Look? What look? What the fuck are you talking about?” I snapped back, getting agitated by his behavior. “And this thing is getting heavy, Nick. I’m going to drop it if you don’t…”
“That look you get whenever I walk in the room without a shirt on,” he cut in, ignoring my threat to drop the auto part. “That look you get…” he continued, lowering his voice, his tone, while moving even closer to me. “…when I take off my shirt in front of you.”
‘No! Oh my god, no!’ I thought to myself, knowing full well that my own expression just gave me away, and I couldn’t do anything about it. He smiled slyly, knowingly.
“Yea, now you know what look I’m talking about, don’t you?”
“Oh my god, Nick, it’s not like that. I never thought anything ‘wrong’ concerning you! I love your dad, I swear it! I’ve watched you grow up for crying out loud!” I was rambling in my attempt to defend myself, but the sly smile on his face never wavered. “So, I appreciate how you filled out! There! I admit it!” I said with conviction. “That doesn’t make me some deviant or something lusting after my husband’s son!”
He leaned in closer, dipping his head down close to my face.
“Nick!” I squealed in panic. “What the fuck are you doing? I’m going to drop this, I swear it. Back up and knock this shit off, now!”
He stopped getting closer, but he didn’t move back either. Then he smiled. Oh my god, that smile. Nick had the perfect smile that turned all the girls’ heads. The perfect white teeth, the perfect lips, and that dimple… add that to his vibrant green eyes topped off with sandy brown hair and you got the makings of what makes teachers go to jail for.
“You’re not going to drop it, Lisa,” he said in a soft, quiet voice. “You’ll stand there and hold that part till your fingers break, that’s just how you are. In the meantime, I want to clear this up for you.” He leaned closer to talk even softer into my ear. “I don’t think you’re a deviant and I know you love my dad. That’s how I noticed your sly little expression in the first place.”
My head was swimming. I got caught doing something that I didn’t even realize that I did! He was too close. He needed to back away. His scent, his voice, his… energy was too much. I shook my head in denial. “Nick, please. Let’s just fix the truck and then we can talk if you still want to.”
“I have a better idea. ‘I’ talk, we get this out of our system, then we finish the truck.”
“Get what out of our system? There’s nothing to… Nicholas!”
He chuckled at my use of his full name, something I didn’t use very much. But when his hand reached around to cup my ass cheek it came out as natural as though I used it every day.
“Do you remember when I fell off the roof and hurt my back?” he whispered in my ear, his hand firmly on my ass. I nodded. “Do you remember those massages you gave me to help it heal?”
“I never touched you wrongly, Nick! Those massages were purely therapeutic and nothing more!”
“Oh, now see that’s where you’re wrong, Lisa. Cause I remember there being times when they weren’t so ‘therapeutic’.” He stepped around me to stand at my back and wrapped his arms around me from behind, his hands glided down my arms from my shoulders to my wrists, which were still in the engine of the truck.
“I had a feeling you didn’t realize what you did to me, that’s why I never said anything. And your massages were, for the most part, simply therapeutic. Let go of the auto part, Lisa.”
I let the hunk of metal and plastic slip from fingers only to notice that it didn’t move when I let go. “You had that fixed the whole time,” I stated lamely.
“You really need to listen to me right now because we’re never going to have this conversation again. Like I said, your massages were, for the most part, simply therapeutic. I remember how great they felt. I could lay there for hours with your hands on my back. It felt so good to feel the pain ease away. To feel every muscle from my shoulders to the small of my back relax. How many times did I fall asleep during those massages?”
“Almost always,” I answered. “Nick, stop this. Let’s go in the house and talk.”
“Not yet, I’m not done.” He took my hands from inside the truck and held them in his own. He folded my arms across my chest, enveloping me within his embrace as he stood behind me, pinning me gently between himself and his truck.
“I want you to know about those times that I didn’t fall asleep. You see, everything was great as far as I was concerned. Your hands feel nice on my back. The smell of the lotion you used was almost intoxicating, I felt like I was in heaven. And I mean that in the purest sense of the term. Until that one day when my dad walked into the room. You never stopped moving your hands, but I could tell exactly when you looked up at him.”
Nick moved his hand from my crossed arm to glide over my stomach and down to my crotch, pulling me back into him as he pressed forward. “The heat that came from your hands in that instant sent waves throughout my body. You touched me different, did you realize that or not?”
“No, I didn’t realize I did anything like that to you.”
“I got such a hard-on that I would have sworn you all could see it, even though I was laying on my stomach. You scared the piss out of me that day.” He touched his lips to the side of my neck as he continued to speak. “I wanted to jump up and run to my room and lock the door, but at the same time I didn’t want you to stop because it felt so good, good in a different way.”
“Oh god,” I croaked, closing my eyes I let my head fall back to his shoulder. His hand slipped down into my panties, though I don’t know when he unzipped my slacks. A ragged breath escaped my throat when his finger grazed over my clit while he held me firmly against his chest with his other arm.
“You have no idea how many times I wished my dad would just walk into the room while you were massaging my back.” His voice became a mere whisper. “I want you to think how often I called for him to ‘come here’ just to tell him something lame.”
“Nick, stop,” I breathed. “This isn’t right. Stop it, now.” Ignoring my protest he slipped his finger inside me. I gasped and pushed reflexively against him. “No! No, stop! This ain’t right!”
“It’s right enough for what you did to me,” he stated, his own breathing becoming ragged and uneven. “I hadn’t even kissed a girl yet when you showed me what it felt like to get so hot that I almost exploded on the living room floor!”
“I didn’t know… ahh!” I had a wave of fuzziness as his finger hit the right spot. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”
He was pumping his finger in and out of my cunt steadily now, and I could barely stand. His lips were at my neck, biting and sucking on that sensitive spot. I felt his hard-on at my back side, grinding and throbbing for more, and I wanted to feel it inside me so bad. I wanted him to flip me around and shove himself deep inside, instead of his finger. But it was wrong! This was Ben’s son! I couldn’t let him, I couldn’t…
Suddenly he pushed me harder into the truck, pinning me there with his body while his hands made easy work of my clothes. He pushed my blouse and bra up over my ample breasts, grabbed one firmly and pinched the nipple. His other hand pushed my slacks and panties down past my ass just enough to give him access between my thighs. I felt him unzip his jeans against the bared skin of my ass and panic kicked in.
“NO!” I screamed at him, and tried to shove him off of me. But it was too late; he’d already established his position over me. He was taller, stronger, and quick with getting what he wanted. He clamped his hand over my mouth and pressed his body down onto mine over the open hood of the truck. I had to use both hands in front of me to brace myself from hitting my head on the engine while he guided his erection through my moist folds.
I continued to beg him to stop, but he ignored my muffled pleas. He pinched my clit with his free hand while rocking in and out. It didn’t take long for my body to react to his stimulation. I got wetter by the second and found myself succumbing to his desire. I cried as my body quivered with the waves of an orgasm. How could I ever look at him again and not remember this? How could I ever act like nothing happened around Ben?
He shot off inside me, violently shaking and grabbing me during his climax, then rested on my back until he got his breathing back to normal. He straightened up and pulled me back with him, turned me around to face him, and gently wiped the tears from my face.
“Now, let’s see if we can do that again with a little less fighting.”
He motioned to finish removing my blouse, unbuttoning it this time, then my shoes, slacks and panties. He eased me backwards to the cold stone floor as though this was normal and began kissing and sucking at my neck. His hand gently fondled and played with my breasts while he rubbed his semi hard-on against my clit.
I had no fight left in me as I laid there and let him do whatever he wanted to me. I had caused this desire in him, it was my fault for touching him, innocently yet arousingly, so many years ago. All I could think about was how I would lose Ben because of this. He’d never believe me over his son, and I doubted that he’d still want to be married to me after this. Not telling him wasn’t an option in my mind. I never could lie to Ben, never had reason to. I wasn’t going to start now, no matter what the cost.
Nick moved himself to my lower region and clamped his mouth over my clit. I bucked in response to his attentions and raised my hips when he slipped a couple fingers in me. I felt the heat of arousal reawaken and started to become wet again. Nick lapped it all up as fast as I was spurting it out. By the time he raised himself up to penetrate I was bodily ready for him. My breathing was heavy and I had a film of sweat on my skin.
“Stop acting the rape victim, Lisa, and have sex with me the way I know you want to. Fuck all the right and wrong, son and wife bullshit. I want to feel you grab me like I’ve seen you do with my dad. I want to have claw marks down my fucking back for the next week! But if you can’t find the bitch inside you to fuck me like I want you to, then I got some pills that will help you go all night long!”
“No, don’t drug me.”
“Then close your eyes and pretend I’m dad, cause I’m not done with you till I’m done.”
I closed my eyes, but it didn’t help the guilt I felt for letting this happen. It did, however, help me to get past the wrongness and simply focus on the man that was between my thighs. I caught his scent as his nuzzled my neck again and raised my hands to touch him for the first time since all this started.
I let the feel of his muscles stimulate my senses, the smell of his shower gel, the feel of him rocking back and forth inside me, his hand on my breast kneading and pinching, teasing my nipple. And then the saving grace came to my closed eyes, a picture of Ben making love to me in the same manner as his son was forcing me to do.
It was easier to respond to him, then. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed the skin there, nipping just below his earlobe. I heard him gasp in pleasure. I reached down between our bodies and took hold of his balls, rubbing them as he pumped in and out. I felt them tighten up then a few seconds later he shook with a climax as he rammed himself into me unmercifully.
After he pulled his jeans up he reached down to pull me up to my feet. He handed me my clothes in silence, and refused to look at my face. Though I have to admit I wasn’t exactly trying to stare him down either. He ushered me inside the house and stood in the doorway while I crossed the kitchen.
“Go get a shower,” he told me. “I got you out of my system. I’ll never touch you again. I promise.” With that he closed the door and went back to his truck.
I was still in the shower by the time Ben came home. The water had long gone cold; I just couldn’t find it in myself to get up to turn it off. I think I might have fallen asleep, but I don’t think so. I think I just sat there and stared into nothing.
I vaguely remember hearing voices, maybe shouting. I don’t know. The slamming of a door, maybe two, maybe something fell over, I don’t know, I didn’t really care.
Then Ben entered the bathroom after I failed to answer his knock. He pushed the curtain aside and turned off the water before standing with a towel open wide in his arms for me to step into. I couldn’t move, all I managed to do was to stare up at him, my beautiful husband, lost to me forever. I didn’t know where to start, but I had to tell him.
“Something happened,” I stated in a trembling voice.
“I know, he told me,” Ben replied. I was shocked and didn’t hide it. “If he told you that it was your fault, then the guilt is mine to share.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Nick told me a long time ago that he was going to ‘tap that’ as he put it. I didn’t say or do anything about it. It wasn’t the only time he mentioned it either. In fact, he made a comment the other day about it, and still I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think he was serious. I never thought he would… hurt you like that.”
We silently stared at each other for a minute before Ben moved to put the towel on the rack and began undressing.
“How about we try this; I’ll get in the shower with you, and we can both clean ourselves from what happened today. Nick is never to be here when I’m not home for any reason. In fact, Nick won’t be back until you say you’re comfortable with having him here again.”
“Do you mean that?” I asked with relieved uncertainty. “But, he’s your son.”
“You’re my wife, Lisa,” he stated with stone cold sincerity. “My son had no right to overstep that line.”
I stood up, shakily at first, and got the feeling back in my legs. “I don’t think there’s any hot water left,” I stated lamely.
“It’s okay, we’ll just wait a few minutes.” He stepped into the shower and closed the curtain. I went to him as soon as he faced me and tucked myself against his body. With my head resting at his shoulder and his arms around me, we stood like that for an indiscernible amount of time.
“Let’s see if there’s hot water yet,” he suggested quietly. I nodded while he reached behind himself and turned the knobs. Fixing the water to create a slight steam, he wrapped his arms around me once more, and rested his head beside mine. We stood like that while the hot water slowly ran out.