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Frankie Comes Home

A year after the summer than changed everything, Frankie returns to face the ghosts of his past.

*Author's Note: This is a follow-up to Frankie & Mrs. Young. If you have not read that, please use the link at the bottom of the page and read it first as much of the needed background for this story is in that one. For those who have read it, please enjoy the continuing journey of a young man who is near a dear to my heart (even if he is a fictional character.) ~NW~


Frankie stood on the porch of what was Mrs. Young’s house. Behind the door before him, was the house where he learned how to make love to a woman. A year before, he was a high school graduate with some scholarships and lawn mowing money he’d spent four years earning getting ready to attend college. He was also a virgin. That, however, was the only thing he wasn’t before he left. That was taken care of by Sandra, or Mrs. Young, when they weren’t being intimate. It was a beautiful June day and Frankie stared at the door, with the key in his hand. 

His thoughts drifted back to what was a cool day in October while he was in his first semester of college. It was when he learned that his private tutor and favorite client had passed away from a terminal brain tumor. A fact she had kept from everyone except her doctor. Frankie had just finished his last midterm and was sitting in his dorm room with Sam, his roommate, discussing how to celebrate the end of midterms when his cell phone rang.

“Hello?” asked Frankie.

“Frankie,” sobbed his mom.

“Mom? What is it?”

“Mrs. Young… passed away.”

“What? When?”

“Either last night or this morning.”


“No one knows yet. We were going to go out for coffee and, oh Frankie, I found her in her bed. I called 911 but they said it was too late and nothing could be done.”

Frankie’s heart sank as he listened to his mom weep. It reminded him of when he was a small child and how she’d cry, usually about his dad, and he’d hold her while she’d cry in his hair. “Do you want me to come home, Mom?”

“No. You’ve got school and I know Sandra wouldn’t want you to neglect your studies.”

“I want to come for her funeral, Mom.”

“Her lawyer is coming by later to talk to me. He said something about the arrangements already been made. I’ll call you later when I know more.”

“Okay Mom. Are you sure you don’t want to come home now?”

“No Frankie. Stay there and don’t miss class. I’ll call you in a few days when I know more.”

The funeral was the following weekend so Frankie could attend without missing class. It was there Mrs. Young’s lawyer, Mr. Rosin, handed Frankie an envelope. In it was her farewell to him in a letter that he carried in his wallet everywhere he went. At Christmas, Frankie learned that Mr. Young, Mrs. Young’s ex-husband, was contesting the will, claiming that Mrs. Young wasn’t of sound mind. Mr. Rosin got the court to schedule the hearing during Frankie’s Spring Break, as he needed to be there.

Frankie hated that his entire Spring Break was spent in court. Mrs. Young’s doctor testified that she learned her fate just days before the Thompson’s left for their niece’s wedding. Frankie realized that it was just a few days before she joined him in the erotic shower, and changed his life forever. He thought back to the letter in his wallet, and how she spoke of the courage to do what she did. The doctor shared that she lived longer than he had expected and admitted that she had good and bad days, which often resulted in odd injuries to her body, mostly from falls due to the tumor affecting her fine and gross motor skills. Frankie suspected he might have been the cause of a few of those odd injuries due to her desire to experiment sexually.

Frankie testified that he had worked for Mrs. Young and the other ladies of his neighborhood for four summers mowing lawns and maintaining their yards including trimming the trees and bushes six days a week. He told the court that Mrs. Young, Mrs. Jones, and Mrs. Garcia fed him lunch even though he never asked. When Mr. Young’s lawyer questioned Frankie about her last summer, Frankie admitted to being in the home and helping fix things that were broken, including a clogged toilet, a broken shelf, and other minor repairs that seemed to be needed between his visits. He testified about how he had done repairs for her in the past, but not to the level he had that final summer and thought it was the due to the house being old and things just wearing out. He also shared that they made plans for him to help her decorate her home for Christmas when he planned to come home for his Thanksgiving break, and take the decorations down before he returned to school at the end of his winter break.

Frankie’s mom testified how she and Mrs. Young met every Wednesday for coffee. Mrs. Young would ask about Frankie’s progress in school, how she missed his biweekly visits to mow her lawn, and asked when he would return. Frankie’s mom shared how she was the one that found Sandra dead in her bed when she was late for their coffee date. Mr. Rosin played the 911 call and the paramedics testified that she had died in the night and nothing could be done to resuscitate her. Frankie’s heart ached listening to his mom’s frantic call and the calm demeanor of the paramedics. This wasn’t just some woman to him; this was his first lover, and his first love.

To Frankie, the trial dragged on. On Thursday, the judge declared that Mrs. Young was of sound mind and was entitled to leave her estate to Frankie, as he was practically a son to her, and had given no indication to anyone, except the doctor who knew better, that she was dying. The fact that she had made plans for Christmas, knowing she would not live to see it, was how she struggled to hide her condition even from Frankie’s mom, her closest friend. The judge also stated that since Mr. Young did contest the will, he was enforcing the clause that stated if he did, he was to receive only one-percent of an account that Mrs. Young had established for him. Thus, instead of getting the $100,000, he received $1,000 and made to pay all the court costs.

Now, Frankie stood on the porch of his new home, took the key in his hand, and unlocked the door. He turned the knob, the door creaked open, and he stepped in. The furniture was covered in sheets and a thin layer of dust lay on the floor. Frankie looked around and was flooded with memories. There was the couch were she had him tie her wrists and ankles. He remembered is so well. It was a Saturday evening, about two or three weeks before he left for school, and she had asked him to come over to fix a broken shelf. She swore she set a vase on it, but the damage didn’t fit the story. He fixed the shelf quickly, and she invited him to stay for dinner. She fixed him a steak, with macaroni and cheese, and corn on the cob. Frankie’s mom was on a date and would be gone for hours while Sandra (as it was their intimate time) wanted to do something new and kinky. She showed Frankie the special restraints she bought, placed a double layer of thick bath towels on the sofa cushions to avoid any damage from their combined sexual fluids, and told him to tie her to the couch naked.

While she stripped down, Frankie lit a few candles, dimmed the lights, and tied her to the couch exactly as she asked. The restraints were soft, smooth leather with fur lining the parts that would encounter her skin to prevent irritation. Frankie put the cuffs around each of her wrists and tightened them so she couldn’t slip out, then tied the two together with the special ties meant for such a purpose. He made Sandra lay on the sofa, face up, naked, and stretched her arms above her head. He took the straps of the cuffs and tied them of the end table that sat next to the couch. She made no effort to stop him, but watched in silence, licking her lips. The ankle restraints were a bit larger, and lacked the ability to be connected like the wrist ones. He placed one around her left ankle first, making sure she couldn’t free herself or be injured, then moved her leg so it went along the top of the sofa, tying it the rear leg. He repeated the process with her right ankle, placed her foot on the floor, and attached the strap to the front sofa leg. This placed Sandra in the most lewd, vulnerable, and exposed position she’d ever been in.

Then she said, “Frankie, I want you to blindfold me, and make me cum without your cock. Use what you wish, your tongue, your fingers, but not your cock. And not until I say. Make me beg for your cock Frankie. Then, feed it to me first. Don’t cum in my mouth. Not tonight. And don’t untie me until we are done. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sandra,” he said softly as he checked her restraints.

“Any questions Frankie?”

A million questions ran though Frankie’s mind. Why did she want such a restricted session? Why couldn’t he cum in her mouth? Why was she so specific when so many times she let him do what he wanted? Yet he knew, for the most part, he was going to be doing what he wanted. He was going to bring her pleasure, make her cum, and in the end, they would make love. He never thought of these sessions as fucking, but as lessons in love making and pleasing his partner. Just before he slipped the blindfold over her eyes, he kissed her softly, and stared deeply into her eyes. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but the words wouldn’t form. She smiled and mouthed, “I know,” as he slipped the blindfold over her eyes.

“Play some music Frankie,” she whispered. “Something soft and romantic.”

Frankie walked over to the stereo and found a CD marked “Love Songs.” As cliché as it sounded, Frankie slipped the disc into the CD player, hit play, and heard Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing”. He smiled as he walked over to Sandra and gently stroked her hair. Frankie grabbed the cushion from a nearby chair and set it on the floor, then knelt down on it. Sandra gasped as she felt his fingers tickle her flesh as he kissed his way from her feet, up her legs, past her pussy, across her stomach to her nipples. His hands cupped and kneaded her firm breasts and he watched her nipples harden as she moaned softly. He leaned in, kissed them softly, licking and sucking her nipples. Sandra giggled, squirming under the restraints, but not saying much else. Frankie could feel his rock hard cock throb and drip pre-cum onto his leg, awaiting its entry into Sandra’s mouth and vagina.

The music played on as Frankie caressed and kissed her bare flesh. He nibbled his way down her stomach to her pubic hair. She always kept area nicely trimmed in a triangle pattern. He kissed along the blonde edge, reflecting on how it pointed to the origin of life, and his lost virginity. The curly hair tickled his chin as he kissed down to her clit and labia. She gasped as his lips touched her sex, the area of her womanly goodness. Frankie licked her clit, twirling his tongue around it as a new song played softly in the background. He slid two fingers deep into her pussy and sucked her clit into his mouth. The sweet taste of her sex filled his mouth and drove his desire. He could smell her arousal, the sweet musky aroma that haunted his dreams, fueled his passion, and made him want to fuck her harder than ever before. His cock stood rock hard between his legs and he wanted to fill her with his erection, but wanted to respect her wishes.

Sandra squirmed and moaned, but still said nothing. Frankie remembered she wanted him to make her beg so he slid his fingers from her sex and into her anus. Sandra gasped and smiled. “Good boy,” she whispered.

Frankie smiled, knowing that she liked what he was doing. He sucked her clit into his mouth and nibbled as his fingers worked inside her rectum. Sandra squirmed and moaned. He could tell she was close so he backed off and waited. She hissed and gasped, but said nothing. Frankie repeated the process several times when finally she screamed, “Fucking hell boy!”

Frankie looked up, surprised. He was sure she had asked him to do exactly what he was doing, but now she seemed angry. “Something wrong?” he asked.

The anger in her face disappeared and she smiled. “Please Frankie, make me cum now.”

Frankie remembered she wanted him to ‘make her beg,’ so he smiled wickedly and said, “I don’t know Sandra, you did yell at me.”

When their affair had first started, Frankie would have never been so defiant with her. But tonight he was trying to follow her instructions, though he didn’t like to be this way with her. Sandra smiled wickedly and said, “You’re right. But I only yelled because you kept getting me so close then you stop.”

“I know,” said Frankie.

He knew exactly how close she was to an orgasm and it was killing him to make her wait. “Then finish me! Make me cum!”

Frankie shook his head, “No, I think I will get dressed and go home.”

Frankie was silently praying she wouldn’t call his bluff. He wanted to make love to her, but he also wanted to please her and fulfill her odd request. Sandra seemed to glare at him through her blindfold then hissed, “You wouldn’t fucking dare?”

Frankie knew he had to see this through, so he stood up and grabbed his boxers. “I’m sorry Sandra, but I think I should leave.”

Frankie turned his back on Sandra and started to slip his boxers on. He knew if he looked at her, he’d crack and go back. He heard her grunt then she said softly, sweetly, “Frankie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled when I asked you to do what you are doing. It was wrong. Please Frankie, I really need to cum and I want to suck your amazing cock. I know I said I wouldn’t swallow your seed but I will if you really want me to, though I really wanted to feel you cum deep inside my kitty.”

The last word caught Frankie’s ears. She had never used the term ‘kitty’ before, and he wondered why she did now. “I don’t know Sandra.”

“PLEASE!” she begged. “Make me cream!”

Frankie turned around. This was the second time she used an odd word, but he saw the desperation on her face. He dropped his boxers and quickly returned to her, kneeling down and burying his face into her pussy. He slid his fingers into her vagina and ass. Within moments, she was screaming as her orgasm raged through her body. Her body shook, her juices flooded from her pussy, and Frankie found her screams drove him wild. He didn’t want to stop, but he did after a second orgasm. Then he stood up, his cock rock hard, and grabbed her head saying, “My turn.”

Sandra smiled, opened her mouth, and sucked his cock. Frankie loved watching her mouth take his entire member, how amazing her lips felt around his shaft, and how the head of his cock felt hitting the back of her throat. Usually he let her control the blowjob, but this time he thrust within her mouth, fucking it the same he would her pussy. After a few minutes, he pulled out and knelt back down, slipping his cock into her sex. The music played in the background, lost to the sound of his cock sliding into her sopping pussy. Sandra gasped and moaned as his cock filled her vagina so perfectly. Soon she was experiencing a third orgasm. Frankie grunted and growled with each thrust, sweat was now pouring down his back. However, he had gotten himself so worked up from the taste of her orgasms, the musky smell of her arousal, and the sound of her screams; he exploded, filled her with his seed, and grunted a primal yell. He collapsed onto her, kissed her passionately, then held her tight. She panted into his shoulder then kissed his salty tasting skin.

“Thank you Frankie.”

Frankie sat up and began to untie her with is cock still deep within her. He could feel the cool air on his sweaty skin, and smell the aroma of raw sex in the air. “Did I do what you wanted?”

“You were perfect. Thank you for calling my bluff.”

Once her hands were free, he untied her ankles and she pulled the blindfold off. He asked, “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes, why?”

“You must have been pretty wound up because twice you used different words than you had before.”

“I did? No you must be mistaken.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, my mind was spinning at the thought of you leaving me unsatisfied. I’m sure that was the problem.”

Frankie’s spent cock slipped out, he helped her off the sofa, and they cleaned up and dressed. They spent the remainder of the evening dancing. Sandra, now Mrs. Young, told Frankie it was important for a young man to know how to dance with a lady, and taught him basic steps that he could easily modify to different types of music. The dancing lessons were something Mrs. Young began to insist on shortly after their love affair began.

Now, as sun filled the room, Frankie’s hand slowly moved along the frame of the couch, remembering the different sexual encounters they shared. He could almost feel her presence in the room. Frankie stepped over to the stereo and turned it on. The CD player was still set and he heard “Sexual Healing” play, taking him back to that magical and erotic night. Frankie smiled and walked into Sandra’s bedroom. There was the bed with the solid wooden base, the blue bedding, and all of her furniture. Frankie smiled as he thought of how many hours of passionate lovemaking he had shared with Sandra. Yes, he would keep the bed for now. He stepped out and walked into the different bedrooms. They had made love in each bed at least twice, and except for the kitchen, had enjoyed an erotic moment everywhere in the house.

As he emerged back into the living room, he saw his mother standing at the door. Unfortunately for Frankie, he was suffering from quite an erection from his memories. However, her presence cured his condition rather quickly. He walked up and said, “Come on in, Mom.”

She stepped in slowly. “How are you doing?”


“Made any decisions yet?”

“About what?”

“About what you’re going to do with the house.”

“Oh, I think I’ll keep it. I mean, the market sucks to hell right now and I’m sure there are some repairs that must be made. Mrs. Young had me fix a lot before I left, but after what her doctor had said I’m sure there’s more damage that I don’t know about yet.”

“That is quite possible. Did I tell you that the fridge is unplugged?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“The day after Sandra passed, I asked that nice Mr. Rosin if a few of us could come in and get rid of the food that would spoil and shut the fridge down.”

“That was pretty smart of you Mom.”

“Millie and I split the food up and donated what neither of us could use. Have you called the electric company, water company, or the gas company?”

“Not yet Mom.”

“Well, I’d get on that if you’re going stay here.”


“Yeah Frankie.”

“Why do you think Mrs. Young left me so much?”

Frankie’s mom smiled gently and said, “Sandra loved you like a son. She would ask me about you all the time when you were in school. Did you know she couldn’t have children?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, so she saw you as the son she never had. You may not remember this, but she used to make you mac and cheese and lemonade all the time.”

Frankie thought for a moment. He remembered the food, but not that Mrs. Young had made it for him. “I always thought you made that for me.”

“No, Sandra knew how stressed out I was and how much you loved it. She gave me the recipe when you got older. It’s why when you’d ask for it I’d tell you in a day or two. I’d call her that night and she’d make it special for you the next day. She made me promise to never tell you, but I guess it’s okay that you know the truth now.”

Frankie felt himself choke up. He had no idea that Mrs. Young had done that for him. “Mom, can I stay at your house tonight since I won’t be able to do much here until tomorrow?”

“Frankie, you’re welcome home any time. You know that.”

Frankie smiled and walked back to his mom’s house, after locking his, and used her phone to call the necessary utility companies to get things set up. By the end of the week, he had the utilities on and Internet working so he could stay on top of his e-mails easier. For the next month, Frankie stayed in the house and checked for the damages that Mrs. Young might have caused in her condition. In early July, a knock came from the front door. Frankie opened it to find Mr. Young standing there.

“May I come in?” asked Mr. Young.

“Sure,” said Frankie, moving to allow him in.

Mr. Young walked in and sat on the couch that Frankie had once tied his ex-wife to. Frankie sat in a nearby chair. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here.”

“The though did cross my mind,” said Frankie.

“I want to know exactly when the affair between you and my wife started.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Frankie wondering what he knew.

Mr. Young smiled. “You screwed me out of what was rightfully mine, so I’m assuming you did it from fucking my wife.”

“Wasn’t she your ex-wife?”

“Is that what she told you?”


“What else did she tell you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you trying to play stupid with me kid?”


Mr. Young smiled. “Look kid, I’m not trying to start a fight. I just want to talk, man to man.”

“So talk.”

Mr. Young sat back on the couch. “Sandra was a wonderful woman. She died way too soon. Now, she had a will drafted up years ago that left everything to me. Then, a month or so before she died, that idiot Rosin files a new one leaving everything to you. I want to know why.”

Frankie knew what Mr. Young was doing; he also knew that if the affair were to be revealed, it would hurt his mom. “Because I was nice to her.”

“How nice?”

“I took care of her yard.”

“I’ll bet,” snorted Mr. Young.

“I fixed a few things that she broke.”

“So her pussy was broke then?”

“Excuse me?”

“I know you were fucking my wife that last summer, kid.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself, yet you didn’t bring any proof of this to the courts.”

Mr. Young narrowed his eyes. “So you’re telling me you never saw my wife naked. Never saw the mole on her left ass cheek, or her pussy that proved she wasn’t a natural blonde.”

Frankie knew he was lying and trying to bait him to admit to something that he had no intention in doing. “Mrs. Young wasn’t a natural blonde? Shit! That just fucked up my fantasies about her.”

“Don’t fucking play with me boy. I know you fucked my wife.”

“And how do you think you know this?”

“I saw you two.”

Frankie paused. He knew Mr. Young was fishing, and Frankie wasn’t about to bite. “Okay, when did you allegedly see us?”

“I came by one Wednesday evening. You had her tied to this couch and was pounding the fuck out of her pussy. You even smacked her ass.”

Frankie stared at Mr. Young, then smiled. “Well Mr. Young, I hate to disappoint you but I never came here on a Wednesday evening because every Wednesday I was at my weekly soccer game with my friends. You’re welcome to ask them about it.”

Mr. Young’s face flashed with anger. “So you’re denying that you had my wife naked and tied to this very couch, doggie style as you fucked her silly.”

Frankie bit his lip, as he knew what Mr. Young was trying to do. “What I’m saying is that if you did see Mrs. Young engaging in sexual acts on that couch, you didn’t see her with me. Now I’m reconsidering if I want to keep that couch or not.”

“Cut the crap boy,” growled Mr. Young. “I know you were fucking her.”

“Get out of my house,” snapped Frankie. “I won’t have you disrespect the memory of that great lady here, or anywhere.”

“And what if I don’t?”

A knock came from the front door. Frankie rose and opened the door to see his mom standing there holding a tray. “Mom?”

“I thought we could enjoy dinner together,” she said as she walked in. “Oh hello. Mr. Young, right?”

“He was just leaving Mom. Weren’t you, Mr. Young?”

“I’ll be back, boy,” said Mr. Young as he rose to his feet.

Frankie’s mom handed Frankie the tray and stepped up to Mr. Young. “Mr. Young. Let me make one thing perfectly clear. If you ever show up here again unannounced or threaten my boy again, I will destroy you myself.”

“Please,” said Mr. Young. “What can you do to me?”

“I know much more than you think Mr. Young. Threaten my son again, and you’ll find out exactly what Sandra told me.”

Mr. Young stared at Frankie’s mom for the longest time, then turned on his heels and left. Frankie and his mom watched as he drove away, then Frankie said, “Wow Mom, your timing couldn’t have been better.”

“Let’s eat before our dinner gets cold.”

Frankie and his mom ate mac and cheese and drank lemonade. After dinner, Frankie’s mom carried the tray back to her house and thought about the last time she saw Mrs. Young alive. It was a Monday morning. Sandra had called and asked about their coffee date, thinking it was Wednesday, and was already at the coffee shop they frequented. When Frankie’s Mom saw Sandra, she looked a bit disheveled, and Frankie’s mom was worried.

“Are you all right Sandra?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Why? Don’t I look alright?”

Frankie’s mom decided to be polite. “You look a bit tired.”

“Well, I haven’t gotten laid in weeks. Not since Frankie left.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, I guess I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just, well; can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure Sandra, you can tell me anything.”

Sandra leaned in and said, “I took Frankie’s cherry last summer.”


“Oh my god, that boy is such a hot fuck! His cock is amazing. He made me feel like a teenager again. He even took my virgin ass.”

“Wait, you? And my son?” Frankie’s mom felt her anger rise within her.

“I love that boy. I loved him as a son, and as a man. Don’t be angry with him. I just had to have him.”

“But why my son?”

“Because, I’m dying.”

Frankie’s mom gasped. “What?”

“I found out just before the Thompson’s went to their niece’s wedding. I was devastated as you can imagine. I have a brain tumor. No one knows except my doctor, and now, you. He gave me at most a few weeks, but Frankie changed all that. He gave me the entire summer and part of the fall. Our goodbye was harder for me than it was for him because I knew I’d never see him again. Please, don’t tell him the only reason I did what I did was because of this.”

Frankie’s mom sat there stunned. Tears welled up in her eyes, though she wasn’t sure what had upset her more. “I promise Sandra, I won’t.”

“There’s one more thing. Take this.” Sandra handed her an envelope. “My ex will try to contest my will after I’m gone. If it looks like he might win, or he might try to harm Frankie in any way, use what’s in this envelope. I think you’ll know what to do, should the time arise. I know I’ve thrown a lot at you, and I swear to you that I never meant to hurt you like this. But I swear to you that I love Frankie.”

Frankie’s mom took the envelope and said, “I’ll do this for Frankie.”

“Thank you. Now, tell me how Frankie’s doing in school.”

Frankie’s mom hid the envelope in her purse and told Sandra about what Frankie had told her about school. They talked longer that day than they had ever before, and even had lunch together. Neither woman mentioned the earlier revelation about the affair between Sandra and Frankie, but talked about assorted random subjects the way the two old friends had done for years. Two days later, Frankie’s mom found Sandra Young dead in her bed.

She walked into her house and put the dishes in her sink, then walked to her bedroom. In her closet, she had a safe installed when Frankie’s father had left them to keep some cash hidden in, and later important papers. She opened the safe and pulled out the envelope. When Sandra gave it to her, she just shoved it into the safe and never looked at it. She was still dealing with the knowledge that her best friend had seduced her only son. She sat on her bed and opened it. It didn’t take her long to understand what she had, and the power of it. She quickly put the items back into the envelope and locked it back in her safe.

A few weeks before Frankie had to leave for school, Mr. Young made another visit to Frankie. Frankie was sitting on his porch drinking a glass of lemonade when Mr. Young’s car parked in front of the house. Frankie quickly texted his mom, and waited to see what Mr. Young would do. Mr. Young walked up and said, “Afternoon.”

“Good afternoon.”

“I thought I’d give you on last chance to tell me the truth about what happened between you and my wife before I call my lawyer.”

“I thought we resolved this the last time you were here.”

“No, the last time we met, I tried to trick you. This time, no tricks. You’re right, it wasn’t a Wednesday that I saw you, it was a Saturday.”

Frankie shook his head. “And I told you that you were mistaken.”

“So you’re going to keep up the bullshit story, are ya?”

“If by bullshit you meant the truth, then yes.”

Mr. Young reached into his jacket and handed Frankie some pictures. “Then explain these.”

Frankie took the pictures as he saw his mom walk up. The pictures were of him and Sandra Young dancing together. Often she was wearing a long nightgown and nothing underneath. Frankie smiled as he looked at the pictures, remembering the good times the two shared. None of the pictures was of them engaging in any sex acts, or anything else inappropriate. Frankie smiled and said, “Okay, you got me. Mrs. Young insisted on teaching me how to dance before I left for college.”

“Excuse me?” asked Mr. Young.

“Mrs. Young told me that it was important that a young man know how to dance with a lady and she offered to teach me how to dance. I didn’t say anything because, well, it’s was kinda embarrassing. I mean, what guy wants to admit that he was taking dancing lessons on a Saturday night instead of out on a date with a hot chick.”

“So that’s what you were doing when I was on my dates,” said Frankie’s mom as she stepped onto the porch. “Well, at least you weren’t getting into any trouble.”

“Hi Mom.”

“Hello Frankie. Mr. Young, I thought I warned you about harassing my son.”

“I’m not harassing Frankie, we’re just talking.”

“What are those?” asked Frankie’s mom.

“Pictures of me and Mrs. Young when she was teaching me to dance,” said Frankie as he handed them to his mom.

“Ah, I see why Mr. Young thought there was more to this relationship than there was. Did she always wear the nightgown?”

“Yeah,” said Frankie. “She said it was important for me to understand how a dress could affect the way a woman moves.”

“She was right.”

“Are you two fucking kidding me?” snapped Mr. Young. “These pictures aren’t dance lessons, they’re foreplay.”

“Foreplay?” asked Frankie’s Mom.

“Yes!” barked Mr. Young. “I hate to break it to you lady, but your son was fucking my ex-wife.”

“Mom I-”

Frankie’s mom raised her hand and said, “Hush Frankie. Mr. Young, I warned you before that if you didn’t back off, I’d make you pay. Why don’t you take a look in this envelope?”

She handed him an envelope and waited. Mr. Young opened it and looked inside. “What the fuck? Where did you get this?”


“How the fuck did she get this?”

“Don’t know and don’t care. She gave this to me just in case you tried to harm Frankie. Now, mind you, those are just photocopies.”

Mr. Young shoved the materials back into the envelope and asked, “Where are the originals?”

Frankie’s mom smiled. “Now Mr. Young, do I really look that stupid?”

“What do you want?” asked Mr. Young.

“I want you to leave my son alone. This is his house now. If you really want it, I’m sure Frankie will be willing to sell it for double current market value.”


“Be happy I didn’t say triple.”

“I would have,” mumbled Frankie.

“So, let’s say I do leave Frankie boy here alone? What then? Where’s my guarantee you won’t use this later?”

“You’re just going to have to trust me,” she said. “But know this, if I don’t make a phone call in,” she checked her watch, “ten minutes, it won’t matter.”

Mr. Young looked at the envelope in his hands. “What will it cost me to get the originals?”

“I don’t want your money Mr. Young. I want you to leave my son alone. Come near him one more time, threaten him, try to enter this house without his permission, and I’m sure you know what will happen.”

“Yeah,” sighed Mr. Young. “I see Sandra got her revenge after all.”

“This isn’t revenge Mr. Young, it’s justice.”

Frankie looked at his mom, then Mr. Young. Mr. Young looked at Frankie and said, “Be happy you never crossed my ex-wife boy, she could be a real bitch. You folks have a nice day.”

Mr. Young walked away, climbed into his car, and drove off. Frankie took a deep breath and said, “What was in the envelope?”

“Evidence that Mr. Young wasn’t always a Boy Scout. The less you know son, the better.”

“Don’t you need to make a call?”

“No, that was just me playing poker,” she said with a smile.

“Remind me to never play poker with you.”

They laughed and walked into the house. Frankie poured his mom a glass of lemonade and said, “Mom, there’s something I’ve got to tell you about me and Mrs. Young.”

“No, you don’t Frankie,” she said taking the glass. “I already know.”

“What? How?”

“Frankie, I lied in court when I said I didn’t know about Sandra’s condition. The day she gave me the real contents of that envelope she told me about her brain tumor and your affair.”

Frankie’s face went pale. He swallowed hard. “Mom I–”

“Don’t,” she interrupted. “Whatever you had with Sandra is between you two. I will tell you that she did love you and wanted you to be happy.”

“When did she tell you?”

“Two days before she died. I think she knew her time was up, and she wanted to clear her conscience. It was the only time we had lunch together. She asked me how you were doing in school, if you had a girlfriend, and other stuff. To be honest, when she handed me the real envelope, I threw it in my safe and didn’t look at it. I was angry and hurt with her. So you can imagine how hard it was to find her two days later, dead. I was so focused on my anger that I didn’t realize that she was dying. I mean, really dying. I knew when I called 911 it was pointless, but I also knew that no one knew about her condition. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner Frankie, but… Sandra was my only friend when your father left us. Remember when I told you about the mac and cheese?”

“Yeah, I remember that.”

“What I didn’t tell you was the first time you had it was shortly after your father left us. You were so little and as to why you father left, I can’t really say. I will admit we were fighting, a lot. Money was tight for us. I had gotten pregnant with you sooner than we had intended and even healthy babies cost money. I don’t wish to speak ill of him, but since neither of us have seen nor heard from him since you were about three or four, I don’t have too many nice things about him.”

“I understand Mom.”

“I was having a rough time of it. I had just started at my job and was barely making enough to pay the bills, let alone keep food on the table. I came home from a really bad day at work and you knew it. You tried to do what you always did, hug me so I’d feel better, but I pushed you away and told you to leave me alone. You went outside and cried pretty hard. I felt like shit and just couldn’t face you so I hid in my room and buried my face in a pillow. I have no idea how long I was there when I felt her hand on my shoulder.”


“Sandra. She was holding you and telling me to get up. After a few minutes, I did. She took us to her house and fixed us dinner. You ate a big bowl of mac and cheese with a glass of lemonade while we ate steak and shared a bottle of wine. For the next week, she fixed us dinner and I was sure she’d never make mac and cheese ever again after that.”


“That was all you would eat. But she didn’t falter. Then, one night you asked for pizza instead. I thought poor Sandra was going to cry, but instead she smiled really big and asked you what kind. She helped me through a really dark time and gave me the strength to carry on. From then on, whenever you asked for the mac and cheese, I’d call her and the next night, a big bowl was ready for us to enjoy. I think it’s why learning what you two did just before her death hurt me so. She was my friend and treated you like a son for so long, that it never occurred to me that she saw you grow into a man, while I still saw you as my little boy.”

Tears fell down Frankie’s cheeks. Hearing his mom share this story weighed heavily on his heart. “I remember holding you when you’d cry, but I don’t remember us ever coming here for dinner.”

“No, I didn’t think you would. Like I said, you were maybe four at the time.”

“Why didn’t we continue?”

“Sandra wanted you to think I was making the mac and cheese. She wanted you to think I was Super Mom.”

“Well it worked, because I do think you are Super Mom.”

Frankie and his mom hugged for several minutes and shed many tears. They never spoke again about Mr. Young, his dad, or the affair between him and Sandra Young.

A few days after all had been revealed, Mrs. Thompson came to visit, asking Frankie if he would be willing to mow her lawn and take care of her hedges again and of course, Frankie said he would. After he finished, she said she’d come by later to pay him for his services.

That evening, Mrs. Thompson and an attractive young woman with dark brown hair came to Frankie’s house. Frankie was sitting on the porch drinking a glass of lemonade, smiled and said, “Good evening ladies.”

“Hello Frankie,” said Mrs. Thompson. “This is my niece, Rebecca.”

“I thought your niece got married last year?” asked Frankie, a bit confused.

“That was my cousin,” said Rebecca.

“Oh,” said Frankie feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Frankie,” said Mrs. Thompson. “Rebecca is visiting for a few weeks before she starts college. She was accepted to the same school you’re in and I thought it would be nice if you two met so she’d at least have a friend when she starts school.”

“Really?” asked Frankie.

“It was a tough choice,” explained Rebecca. “But after weighing all my options I knew it was the right school. I was telling Aunt Millie and Uncle John about my decision when Aunt Millie said she knew someone who was going there. I mean what are the odds right?”

“Right,” said Frankie. “Oh man, where are my manners? Would either of you like a drink?”

“Is that lemonade?” asked Rebecca.

“It is,” said Frankie. “It’s fresh too. Just made it today.”

“That sounds fine,” said Rebecca with a smile.

“Well, I can’t stay as Mr. Thompson doesn’t know I’m out, but I wanted to give you this Frankie and thank you for coming by today.”

Mrs. Thompson handed Frankie an envelope. “Thank you Mrs. Thompson. I hope Mr. Thompson was happy.”

“Oh you know him,” she said. “It’s good to see you again Frankie. I’ll let you kids get acquainted.”

“Bye Aunt Millie,” said Rebecca.

“Bye Mrs. Thompson.”

Mrs. Thompson walked away as Rebecca said, “So how about that drink.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“Sure. My aunt tells me you own this place.”

Frankie escorted Rebecca in and explained how he inherited the house from Mrs. Young, but not about the affair. The two spent the bulk of the evening talking about school and each other. For the remainder of Frankie’s stay, he spent the bulk of his time with Rebecca, even taking her up to the college to give her a personal guided tour. The two quickly became a happy couple and began dating with the start of the term.

Their last weekend before school, Rebecca helped Frankie shut down his house. As she was looking for old sheets to cover the furniture with, she found the restraints Frankie had used on Sandra hidden in the linen closet. She carried them into the bedroom where Frankie was packing and asked, “What are these?”

Frankie’s face went pale. “Where did you find those?”

“You’re avoiding my question, Frankie.”


“Have you used them before?”

Frankie bit his lip, but knew he was better off being honest with her. “Yes.”

Rebecca smiled. “Good.”

Frankie looked up at her surprised. “Good?”

“Yeah, it means you know what to do with them. How many women have you used them with?”


Rebecca smiled. “Wanna make that two?”

Frankie smiled. “Yeah.”

Rebecca tossed the restraints to him. “Tie me to the bed like you did her.”

Frankie resisted the urge to tell her he wasn’t the bed, but he decided it wasn’t important. He slid his suitcase onto the floor and said, “First things first, you need to get undressed.”


Rebecca stripped down revealing her firm young breast and trimmed sex. Though her breasts weren’t as big as Sandra’s, and her pubic hair was much darker, he still found her amazingly attractive. Frankie walked over and bound her wrists first. He helped her lay on his bed, then tied them over her head attaching the strap to the headboard. Each ankle was carefully bound and she was positioned spread eagle on the bed. Frankie quickly stripped down as his bulging cock was wanting out. He retrieved a condom from his bedside table, and began kissing up her right leg, over her hip across her stomach, and began sucking her right nipple. Rebecca moaned softly.

“You’re so beautiful,” whispered Frankie.

“Thank you,” she replied. “Feed me your cock, lover.”

Frankie crawled up her body and cradled her head with his hand as he fed her his cock. Feeling her lips reminded him of Sandra and for the briefest moment, he felt a bit of guilt enjoying this younger woman’s mouth. Then, he thought he heard her say, “Remember what I taught you boy.”

Frankie looked down as Rebecca’s mouth slid up and down his cock. Occasionally he’d hear a slight slurping sound and felt her moan. Carefully, he turned himself around and as she sucked his cock, he leaned down and examined her pussy. The musky scent of her arousal fed his desire. He kissed her labia, and slid his tongue between the folds of the skin. He couldn’t believe he found he enjoyed the sweet taste of her pussy more than Sandra’s, but he did. He sucked her clit into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue as the hood retracted. Frankie wanted to make her cum, but he heard her mumble something. He pulled his cock out of her mouth.

“Fuck me Frankie! Please! I want to cum on your cock!”

Frankie quickly spun around, grabbed the condom, tore open the foil package with his teeth, and rolled it on his steel rod. He moved between her legs, lifted her hips up, and slid inside her. “Oh my god! You’re so tight!”

“You’re so big!” she moaned.

After a few gentle thrusts, he was fully inside her. He moved his hands to her breasts, caressing and kneading them. Rebecca moved her hips, meeting Frankie thrust for thrust. Panting and moaning, they fucked in the bed. “I’m close!” she cried.

“Me too!”

Frankie pistioned within Rebecca when he felt her pussy clamp down on his cock, her body shook, and she screamed. The sensation was more than Frankie could bear and he filled the condom with his seed. He kissed Rebecca hard, their tongues dancing together as they both rode the end of their joint orgasms. They kissed for several minutes while Frankie freed her hands. The air smelled heavy of sex, their bodies were covered in sweat.

“Wow!” sighed Rebecca. “Whoever taught you how to fuck did a great job.”

Frankie blushed. “You’re no slouch yourself.”


They kissed for a few more minutes, until Frankie’s spent cock slipped out. He freed her ankles, then disposed of the used condom.

“Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?” asked Frankie.

“Using the condom.”

“Well, I didn’t know if you were on the pill and I’m not ready to be a father yet.”

“Well, for the record I am. But before we brave sex without I’d like you to get tested.”

“I will if you will. We can visit the student health clinic after school starts.”

“Really? And my parents won’t find out?”

“Nope. They guarantee privacy. You’re an adult now, and unless it’s something they have to report to the CDC, you’re just a number. Trust me, my roommate used them a lot last year.”

“Oh, a real ladies man, huh?” she asked, as she got dressed.

“Something like that,” said Frankie, slipping his jeans and boxers back on.

They finished packing and shutting down the house, before enjoying dinner at Frankie’s mom’s house with Millie Thompson. Frankie’s mom promised she’d take care of his house during his absence, and mentioned to him quietly she liked and approved of Rebecca. Sunday afternoon the couple bade everyone their goodbyes and drove together to school. Millie and Frankie’s mom waved until the car disappeared from sight.

“They make a good couple,” said Frankie’s mom.

“They do indeed,” said Millie.

“Thanks for introducing them.”

“Rebecca is my favorite niece and her mother wanted her to finally meet a nice young man. I told her I knew the perfect one.”

“Do you think it will last?”

“I hope so,” said Mille. “They both deserve to be happy. Especially Frankie.”

Frankie’s mom sighed. “Millie, would you like to go out for coffee sometime?”

“I thought you’d never ask. I may not be Sandra Young, but I’d sure like to be better friends with you than I am right now.”

With that said, Millie and Frankie’s mom drove to the coffee shop where Sandra and Frankie’s mom met weekly and they shared their memories of Sandra Young, their children, and grew their newly-formed friendship.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Written by NymphWriter

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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