obvious he had missed her in the way that he held her so tenderly and kissed her. Celine in turn responded to his need for contact with an almost smothering love. When an appointment left his office she would shoot the door bolt closed and run to him, taking her clothes off and climbing into his lap, thrusting her breast into his mouth as she caressed his hair. Once she even stayed in the office during one of his appointments, stark naked beneath his massive desk, his hard cock in her mouth. She made him cum twice while the woman from the Governor’s staff was in his office on a regulatory matter, swallowing his explosions and licking him clean afterwards.
She slept with him at his home those first two nights after his return, Peter twined around her deliciously. On the third night after his return, Peter left her in the bedroom, saying he was going to the kitchen for a sandwich. Shortly after he left, she was startled by a false wall across from the bed sliding open. She padded naked to the opening and was startled by the nearly full sized oil painting of herself in a beige evening dress that hung off her bare shoulders in a moonlit setting. She was even more startled when she saw the same dress as in the painting, a dress she had never seen before, much less worn. It was a custom dress, handmade and expensive, though to Celine’s now practiced eye it appeared to be of a style that was common in the early 1970s. Her eyes drawn back to the painting, she saw the name on the tiny brass plate at the bottom of the frame. She now knew Peter’s dirty little secret.
He returned to the bedroom with a plate of finger sandwiches and a split of champagne on ice. Peter stopped just inside the door, his mouth and eyes formed in big round “O”s.
Celine lay back on the stacked pillows of the bed, wearing the dress from the painting. Calmly she looked at him, saying nothing at all, but opening her arms to him. Peter rushed to her and hugged her, placing his head against her breasts. He began to cry as she stroked his head and held him. When he was cried out, Celine pushed him to a sitting position and went to get the sandwiches and pour the champagne.
“How old were you when you lost her?” Celine asked softly.
“Six,” he answered in his own soft voice. “I can barely remember her in that dress, smelling of honeysuckle and her eyes shining.” He looked at her, the dynamic, fully in charge business man nowhere to be seen. “Are you going to leave now?” he asked.
Celine set down her sandwich and wiped her lips. She moved closer to him and held his head in her hands. “Of course not my darling,” she said, “why would I?”
Peter laughed then, “Most women would consider it kind of bizarre that a man wants to make love to a woman who looks like his mother.”
“Most men would think it bizarre that a woman wanted to fuck a man who looks like her father,” Celine said, holding out her wallet sized photo the town’s Chief of Police when he had been in the Police Academy years ago. Peter stared at a photo that could have been himself.
“The first time I spread my legs for a man,” Celine said, “it was for a guy I knew named Danny. I didn’t pick him because of his looks or because I loved him, it was because ‘Danny’ was close to ‘Daddy’ and I knew whose name I would cry out if he could make me cum, and I was more than ready. The first time he penetrated me I pretended it was my Daddy, and it was his face I saw when I started to cum. I went wild, calling his name over and over. Danny never said anything, but I think he knew what I was saying.” She looked at Peter. “Now…are you going to cast me away?” She got up on her knees, the front of her dress dropping down and exposing her lovely breasts with their rigid pink tipped nipples. “Or are you going to let Mommy suck your big cock?” Slowly, Peter opened the kimono he was wearing.
They