She knew it!
I'm almost 100% sure. The intense and caring smile she always gave me. It was our unspoken secret.
"Michael. Great to see you! How are you?" She gave me the nicest hug, and I enjoyed the smell of her hair and her perfume. As always it was a joy to see and hear her.
"Hi, Stine. Great to see you!” I gave her the best smile I could.
Every time we saw each other, it was like this; and it had been so for the last six months. It was an unspoken and acceptable ritual between us.
She also as usual put her head slightly on my left shoulder. Just a short moment. Afterward, we always pulled apart, and took the correct position between two people, so the intimate sphere was not broken.
"Oliver is in his room. Are you staying for dinner?" she asked me with a smile, and a clear expectation and hope, that I would say yes.
"Oh yes, thanks. I would like that. If it's ok with you?" I said.
"There is always room for you." Stine smiled, winked, and squeezed my right arm a little.
Everything was as it was supposed to be, and with a "thank you, I'm happy about that." I turned around, and headed for Oliver’s room.
Oliver was my best friend. We had known each other since elementary school, and our friendship continued throughout high school. Now we have had our exams, and the world was open and exciting for us. Two 19-year-old youngsters, with lots of hope and courage for life.
I often visited Oliver, and I loved it! His mother, Stine, lived alone in a nice house, with Oliver and Karen, who was his little sister.
Oliver was feverish when I entered his room. He was packing a small bag with his work clothes, and looked like he was on his way.
"Hi, Michael. They just called from the gas station - Adam is sick. They needed someone to take his shift, and I had to say yes. They have helped me so many times," Oliver stopped and looked at me. "Hope it’s, ok?" he said.
“Of course. No problem. We can write it tomorrow or the day after!” I gave him a thumbs up.
Our plan was to help each other to write job applications as assistants in a kindergarten. They were applying for two assistants, and we knew that young men were popular.
We had decided that we would travel for two months with backpacks in Indonesia, so now we needed a job for the next 6-8 months to finance the journey.
There was still a week until the application deadline, so whether we started today - or tomorrow for that matter - was no problem.
"I'm sorry," Oliver said.
"No - that's fine, Oliver. Don't think about it. I'll just go back home. I have a lot to do. Just ask my mum.” We laughed a little.
We went out of Oliver’s room, and he called for his mother.
"Mum! They called from the gas station. Adam is sick, so I'm taking his shift."
Stine came out from the kitchen and saw her son pulling on his jacket.
“Oh, of course, darling. Sorry for Adam. The dinner is almost ready, but you can have something when you get home.”
"It won't be until midnight."
"Okay then. I will put it in the refrigerator. Remember the key.” Stine smiled at him.
"Yeah, sure, mom."
"What about you, Michael? Won’t you stay and eat with Karen and me?” Stine looked at me expectantly.
Oliver seemed stressed and interrupted his mother. "Sorry, but I'll have to leave now. See you, Michael. Tomorrow night?"
"Yes, that's fine," I quickly replied.
“Bye, Mum.” Oliver waved at Stine and was out the door.
So, there I was. Facing the loveliest, most beautiful and smiling face I knew.
"Come on, Michael, stay and eat with us!" She winked at me. "Karen," Stine called Oliver’s sister "the dinner is ready. We are eating now!”
"By the way, I also have a painting, that I need help to put on the wall." Stine smiled at me and continued. “Oliver has promised to do it, but you know him. Sometimes there’s a long distance between thought and real action.” She chuckled.
“Could you be persuaded? I've borrowed a drill and everything from my neighbor." Stine smiled and looked at me with her head slightly tilted. It was hard to turn down that face and that voice.
"Of course," I said in a mushy voice and immediately cleared my throat. "Of course, I will help you."
"Perfect! Thanks, Michael. Let's eat first, and then fix the painting afterwards," she said and gave me another squeeze on my arm.
"Good plan," I said and enjoyed the fact, that I would be in her company for the next hour or so.
“She is so beautiful,” I thought to myself and felt a nice satisfaction inside.
We sat down at the table in the large kitchen, and Stine handed me the salad bowl.
"It's just meatballs, potatoes and salad," she said.
"Oh - that sounds delicious," I said and took the bowl.
Karen came tumbling down to the table and almost threw herself on the chair. She had just started high school and was enjoying her life to the fullest. New subjects. New teachers. New friends. And not least – the parties.
"Mum. Thea is having a party you remember. And I'm staying there for the night."
"You haven't told me that, Karen." Stine sounded surprised.
"Mum - yes I have. You just never listen to what I'm saying,” she sounded a bit irritated. “We are 10 persons from the class, and Thea's parents are at home.”
"You haven't said anything, Karen.” Stine looked at me and smiled.
“She is so busy with everything else, that she completely forgets her mother."
I didn't know what to say. But Karen did.
“Okay, mom. I’ll try again.” She breathed in heavily. “There is a party at Thea's, and I would like to stay over for the night. Is that okay? Mum? Please?”
"Yes Karen - that's fine then," Stine nodded. "But take care of yourself! Remember how sick you became last time you were at a party.”
Karen sighed and said, “Yes, Mom - I remember. It won’t happen again.”
When I heard that, I smiled and thought to myself, “Of course it will happen again.”
The dinner went well. The food tasted good, and we talked about many things. Karen was very interested in the journey Oliver, and I had planned.
"Oh, it sounds great. I also want to travel when I graduate," she said.
"Yes, but first you have to graduate, Karen. Homework, have you heard about that word?" Stine winked at me.
“Oh, you are so funny, Mom. I'm off now, thanks for dinner.”
"Take care of yourself!" Stine shouted, and with a bang, Karen slammed the front door and was gone.
The silence subsided, and there we were - Stine and I - looking at each other.
“Do you need more to eat?” she asked.
"No thanks. It tasted super delicious, Stine." I enjoyed saying her name. Stine. Stine.
"We'll just leave the table now. Then I'll clean up later when you're gone. Let's fix the painting so you can get home. Why spend a lovely Saturday evening with an old woman like me?" She laughed and laid her hand on top of mine.
Her hand was warm and dry, and I felt a small sensitive stroke of her thumb over the soft hairs on my hand. It felt magical.
She should only know, how much I enjoyed spending a Saturday evening with her - all alone. She was twenty years older than me, but she was youthful, beautiful, and hot! In my eyes, she was the perfect woman. The perfect woman for the perfect fantasy.
She removed her hand from mine and asked, "Ok, Michael, shall we, do it?"
We entered the cozy living room, and I immediately saw the colorful painting in red and orange colors. It was a perfect choice for her living room.
“Don't you think it will be nice there, Michael?” Stine pointed at the wall above the sofa.
I enjoyed it when she said my name. I wondered how it would sound if she whispered my name in my ear, while I kissed her neck, felt her soft skin. Smelling her perfume. A little bite in her perfect earlobe. Once again, I got lost in all sorts of emotions and fantasies about her.
"Focus, Michael," I said to myself. “Focus. There's a painting to hang up. After that, I'm going home.”
The drill was big and heavy.
"Good thing you have such big strong arms." Stine chuckled and squeezed me on the right biceps.
I loved those touches, and I wanted to do the same to her. But most probably, there was nothing in it on her part. She was - and always had been – very physical in her behavior towards people.
“So, forget it, Michael!” I thought. It would just be totally awkward if I started to reciprocate her touches.
She had drawn a small cross on the wall with a pencil and was now standing close to me with the vacuum cleaner tube. Ready to catch dust and plaster from the wall.
"Okay. Are you ready?”
“Yes. Let’s do it,” I spoke.
She turned on the vacuum cleaner with her foot, and I started drilling. Stine stood on tiptoes to reach, and suddenly I felt her right breast on my left arm. It was plump and soft, and I felt it rest and move on my arm. She seemed unaffected and smiled as she shouted through the noise.
"Good job, Michael!”
She was still standing close, and I felt a major satisfaction, and an urge to touch her. Maybe her hair? Maybe her neck? I was pulled out of my thoughts when she turned off the vacuum cleaner and placed the tube on the floor.
"Perfect, Michael! Now we just must put the Rawplug in. They are here.”
She pointed at the floor and bent down to open the box of Rawplugs and screws. When she did, I had a direct look down her loose-hanging blouse. I could see that she was wearing a blue bra, and her breasts swayed slightly as she moved. It was a beautiful and hot sight. Fortunately, she stayed bent forward a little longer than I expected, while she removed some small pieces of plaster, that had ended up on the floor. Finally, she got up, and with a fantastic smile on her lips, she handed me a Rawplug and a screw.
“Here you are. I am so happy that you will help me. You have no idea how much it means to me.”
"Of course, I want to help you, Stine," I said, and finally, I took the chance, and squeezed her arm a little bit. She smiled, winked back at me, and squeezed my arm.
The painting was hanging perfectly on the wall, and then we cleaned up. I carried the borrowed tools to the hallway, and when I came back into the living room, Stine had found a beer and two glasses and put them on the table.
"Sit down, Michael. Now we're going to share a beer, and you're going to tell me everything that's happening in your life right now! Okay?"
“Yeah, ok. That sounds nice," I said.
She opened the beer and poured the contents in our glasses. But when she moved the glass in my direction, it tipped over, and the beer splashed over me. My t-shirt and pants were all covered in beer.
"No, no, no – I’m sorry, Michael. I'm just so clumsy. I will get you a towel!” She quickly walked out to the kitchen.
"Don’t worry, Stine. It can happen to anyone," I said loudly.
There I was. In wet clothes, smelling like a tavern. What a sight. I smiled to myself.
Stine came back and handed me the towel. I rubbed at my T-shirt and trousers, but of course, it wasn't enough to dry the clothes.
"I'd better go home and change my clothes," I said and felt disappointed immediately.
"No, no, Michael. You're not going home like that! Imagine yourself looking and smelling like that on the bus?” She laughed and looked at me inquisitively.
“No, you know what. You will go to the bathroom and take a shower. I'll find some of Oliver's clothes that you can borrow."
"No - it's really not necessary, Stine."
"Nonsense. Now you do what I say!" she said firmly and led me to the hallway, and pointed down towards the bathroom.
“Hurry up Michael, the shower is waiting for you.”
I walked to the bathroom, and when I opened the door, I immediately smelled Stine’s perfume. I had always loved that scent because it reminded me of many happy hours and days in this house. The scent also reminded me of the secret thoughts that started to build up, when I got older.
I took off my clothes and entered in the large shower cabin, where I turned on the water. When the water was warm enough, I went under the shower head and felt the soft warm water on my body. It was nice.
I’ve been standing here so many times before, but this time it was so different. Because I was alone in the house with Stine. Beautiful life-giving Stine.
My fantasies about her were intense. And even though they were fantastic to have, they also felt wrong. Sometimes my fantasies gave me a bad conscience. Because, how sick wasn’t it, to have a crush on my best friend’s mother?
But at the same time, I conveniently accepted the fact, that there also must be space for fantasies. And the fantasies came back, here in the shower. What if Stine suddenly stood here with me...? What if she allowed me to touch her...? What if...?
I felt the blood flow into my manhood, and I started to grow. It felt nice, and I positioned myself, so the water hit the root of my manhood. I grew even more now, and the erection was nice and big. I moaned a little to myself, enjoying the situation.
Suddenly I heard the door being opened.
"Good thing you hadn't locked the door, Michael. You need a towel! I will hang it right here outside the shower.”
"Okay, I stammered with a mushy voice.
I could see her shadow through the blurred white shower curtain. Her arm reached out, and I could tell, that she was hanging the towel on the hooks just outside the bath.
I saw that she kept standing outside the shower curtain a moment longer than she had to. I didn’t know what to do or say. I was just standing there as a statue, with my erected manhood.
"Enjoy your shower, Michael. I'll get you some clothes" she finally said, and I could hear, that she left the bathroom, and closed the door.