Message from a Mistress Read Free Page B

very thought of how they used to get down…absolutely nothing was taboo.
    And she missed that….
    Shaking off a far too distant memory of a steamy night complete with scented body oil, handcuffs, and anal beads, Renee started a large load of whites and headed back up the stairs. She barely stopped when she reached the top to walk down the hall to the staircase leading to the top level.
    She didn’t try to fool herself into thinking that busywork was keeping her mind distracted from that talk. As she neared her son’s room at the top of the stairs, she heard the sounds of video games echoing against the wall. She knocked on the door twice before she opened it and walked in.
    “Mornin’, Ma,” Aaron, her seventeen-year-old, greeted her.
    Renee pinched her nose. “Aaron, this room makes no sense and it reeks. How can you lay up in this pig sty like this?” she asked, stepping over a pile of sweat-funky football gear to reach his full-sized bed. His room was disaster central. Clothes, dirty and clean, mingled on the carpeted floor.
    “It’s just self-expression, Ma,” he said, never taking his eyes off the bright graphic images on the television screen.
    “The ability and right to self-expression has a cost…and it’s called a mortgage, which you don’t pay,” she drawled. “Go take a shower and then you have thirty minutes to get this room back to being habitable.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    Renee did a double take. “Now, Aaron,” she told him in her best prison warden tone.
    A second later he reached forward to turn the console off.
    “It does smell pretty bad, huh?” he asked with a dimpled grin that truly made him the spitting image of his father.
    Renee hugged his slender frame to her side and kissed his cheek.
    “Ma,” he complained as he made his way to his private bathroom.
    Renee could only shake her head. She hated to admit that this was another example of how little time she spent at home anymore. In the past, Aaron wouldn’t have even tried her by keeping his room this junky. She hardly had time to come in his room and check up on him anymore.
    She pulled the football-motif comforter from his bed, planning on washing his linens. She froze and leaned in a little closer. The crusted white spots splattered on his sheets looked a lot like…
    Evidence of Aaron’s encounter with Mrs. Palm and her five daughters.
    Renee gasped and made a horrid face as she hurried to put the cover back on the bed. She turned and flew from the room, trying to erase the image of her son— her baby —masturbating beneath the covers.
    “That is Jackson territory,” she told herself as she headed to the guest bathroom to wash her hands.
    Renee had way too much on her plate to tackle Aaron’s puberty. For now all she could do was shake her head.
     
    Aria stretched her nude frame beneath the cool cotton sheets of her bed. After Kingston’s sexy good-bye by the door, she’d headed straight back to bed to sleep off the mini adventure.
    She smiled into her plush pillows before turning over onto her back and looking up at her reflection in their mirrored ceiling. It was so eighties but they both loved being able to see the motion of the other’s body as they rode.
    Aria flung the covers back and hitched her full breasts higher as she lightly stroked the top of her plump and bald pussy. Kingston loved when she got a Brazilian wax, and Aria always recommended it to her friends because there was nothing like a clever-tongued man licking circles on top and inside a woman’s pussy.
    Rolling off the bed, Aria grabbed lingerie from her nightstand drawer. She had to hustle. Her impromptu nut nap had eaten into her work time. Working from home as a relationship columnist and freelance writer was her life’s dream…except when her procrastination kicked in and she was running late on a deadline. It was during those long hours into the night that Aria longed for a day job and a clock to punch.
    Overall, Aria loved her life,