Desiring Denise

This story is purely fictional, forged by the joining of something I saw on TV, and someone I saw in a cafe.

It could fit into romance, but not Mature as the age gap in 27-33, so as Denise is black..... here we are.

Please note that the MC's object of desire has had a mastectomy, if you don't like this.... look elsewhere.

Your feedback is always welcome.

On a warm, balmy night, Denise, a young, black, single mother of two sits on her bed, going about her nightly routine. After showering and drying her naked body, she listens to the silence of the night and misses the hustle and bustle of having two kids. Moisturising her body, she wants to feel her best as she prepares to see her old friend Sarah, to do something other than crying into a wine glass, for the first time since Denise's husband had left her, just under 5 months ago.

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Remembering that night six months ago it all broke down, after being through her personal hell with cancer, Denise, now in remission, had wanted to celebrate in the best way married couples can.

She and Andre had arranged a city break to firstly catch up with their friends Sarah and John, and more importantly to stay in a plush hotel, to rekindle their previously eventful sex life. Andre had booked everything, driven them there and held hands with her, like the young lovers they were when they met at university. That was also where and when she had met Sarah. Sarah was a mature student and like Denise, had kids, two boys and a girl with the youngest son, Jack, really having crushed on Denise, which she and Sarah thought was really cute.

The breakdown of Andre and Denise's marriage had been coming, in truth, she knew her husband's little ways, that loving gaze that helped her through her recent illness, the way he nurtured her back to health upon her release from hospital after the surgery. It all seemed to disappear.

Denise had felt like an imposter in her own marriage, having lost the luscious black hair due to chemo, that Andre had always said had suited her so well. Why, even the last time they managed to have sex had been downbeat, even mournful, with both of them fully aware that tomorrow, one of the 32C breasts that Andre worshipped for so long, would be gone due to having a mastectomy. He hadn't made that grunt noise he generally always had upon the release of her breasts from her bra, and as he had to take care with 1, it had affected the attention he paid to both.

First weekend in 2024 - The New Year Break

Denise had really hoped that their New Year break, a Christmas gift from Sarah, would have been the catalyst for the resumption of their lives, and importantly, of their loving one another like husband and wife traditionally do. She longed to feel like a woman again, to be intimate, to be caressed and cared for in the way that only 1 man ever had.

It all initially went so well, Denise looked ravishing in her new, short haircut, with it gelled in place to the side. It was cold, so the pullover she wore was primarily for heat, but it also covered her top half enough, hiding what she was still getting used to, having a bra filled out by a prosthetic right breast.

Andre had seen her topless as he tended to her dressings after surgery, but nothing late at night in a sexual nature. That night was to be perfect, dinner was had in a beautiful steak house, before wine in a trendy jazz bar. Her husband had drooled when she emerged from the hotel suite bedroom, dressed in a body hugging, light blue dress that caressed her natural curves, her hips that had bore 2 children, one at 14 and the other 15, at the still young age of just turned, 33. Perhaps, she quietly hoped, a 3rd might not be far away.

Dinner with their friends was just what they needed, spirits were high in the celebration that Denise was alive and well.

Leaving the jazz bar, her friends hugged them both, and Sarah pulled Denise in for a word in her ear, playfully telling her friend, "Don't break him," such was the sultry looks the married couple had exchanged. Walking home to the hotel, they walked arm in arm, and Denise pulled him in for a kiss in a doorway that took them both unawares before breaking off with a hungry, breathless stare, such was the woman's growing arousal.

Andre was aroused too, she had felt his erection that had been dormant since their last time together. He hadn't even masturbated, determined to save it all up and share it with this wonderful woman. He loved her, he was determined to get back to normal and, although he was so horny for her right in that moment, there was just that gnawing niggle, that worry. Would he still find her body sexually appealing?

The passion seemed to be diluted as they reached the hotel's front door, with Andre letting her go first.

Upon reaching the hotel room, he opened the door and stood aside, allowing his lady to go first. Denise, however, didn't want to be treated like a lady, remembering back when they were young lovers, being pinned to the door when they entered a hotel room, stripped (if even they got that far) and fucked like a porn-star with his long and thick cock.

He did run his hands along her bottom, kissing her on the neck and telling her he was going to have a nightcap, and she partly groaned, then said, "I'll have some white wine," and received a light kiss on the cheek.

At this point she would normally go into the bathroom to change, maybe into a low-slung PJ top, and discard her bra. That was then, she was different now, and kept her dress in situ as she sat down beside her husband.

They watched the tail end of a movie on TV and talked about the night they'd shared, and then he took her breath away when he looked at her deep, brown eyes and said, "You really do look sensational, my love."

Setting down her glass, she turned and gripped him by the face, "Say that again," she urged, surprised at how it had made her feel like a school girl again.

"You," he began, "Are a sexy woman, who needs to be naked right now," then he kissed her.

The kiss was hot, quickly escalating to French kissing, with her soon gripping his shirt and pulling it over his head. Moaning into their kissing, she pawed at his smooth, muscly chest, her black skin slightly lighter than his, made her just want to lick it all night.

She was now on his lap, and with the hem of her dress now up round her panties, her wetness was now on his jeans and she growled, "Take those off, right now," to him. She was hungry to taste him again, to feel his cock filling both sets of lips was the aim for the city break.

Now he was in boxer shorts, nothing between them but those, her panties, her dress, her bra and everything else she had worn out that night, and she realised that this would have to change, if they were to regain their intimacy.

"Do you want me to...... take my clothes off, too?" She said, for the first time ever with nerves.

His nervous look said it all, in hindsight, like a rabbit caught in the headlights in truth. "Ok," was not the pussy trembling growl she needed.

"Let's get into bed," Denise suggested, unzipping her dress herself, with her fantastically bendy arms.

Lowering the lighting before draping her dress on the chair, her back was to her husband when she opened her bra, spiriting away the secret prosthetic that kept her outside look in place. The darkened room was a good camouflage against her silky skin, and she was naked and under the covers before Andre realised.

He touched and caressed her as they kissed, she was pulling on his cock now while he made it to the top of her thighs, and when she spread her legs he rubbed her, fingers finding that rhythm she liked to be stroked and rubbed with, around her clit. "God I love your hands on me," she said as they kissed with passion, with him paying no attention whatsoever to her torso. But she didn't mind, she was wet, and in truth a little worried what any attention to her chest area would feel like, how his smooth chest would feel against her scars and remaining breast.

Denise needed to taste her husband, and pushing him back into the mattress, she saw his head throw back as she took him into her mouth where she stayed, sucking him and caressing his heavy balls, all the while looking up to see him writhing, not looking at her like he usually did, but his eyes were tightly closed in pleasure, so she thought.

Denise didn't know it was all about to unravel, she didn't even think for a second that as she climbed up his body, he was looking at her only boob and was willing himself to be attracted to her again, as of old. She didn't realise that as she sat on his cock, kissed him and allowed her breast to fall on his chest, he would reach up to cup it, and her scar and say, "Dee," in a sad tone, and as she took his cock inside her, he continued, "Denise, stop. I'm sorry."

She should have made sure it was dark, so she thought, she should have kept her top on, she should have..... so many things. But, in truth, she knew that the haunted look on her husband's face meant that her marriage was not so much over, but dead.

He cried as much as she did, they talked all night and she stayed fully clothed throughout, with scars forming in her mind about never getting naked in front of anyone ever again.

In the morning, Sarah was surprised to hear her doorbell ringing at 9am, knowing husband was playing golf, with her grownup kids all flown the nest, she opened the front door to see her glamorous friend in the doorway, crying her eyes out as she wept into the older woman's embrace, thanking the twist of fate of Andre accidentally knocking her up - twice in quick succession - for bringing them together after she deferred her university degree. Her friend would again be invaluable over the next few months, just as she had been for the past 9 years, helping her search for jobs back home, get an apartment for her and her kids there too, with schooling and other things to consider. Andre had been a gentleman about it all, helping her in every way but the one she wanted from him, to be his wife again, with all the add-ons like sex and security. If only it was back in university

Even back then, Sarah had been like a mother figure to many of the students, with her house in the city being a base for going out on the town. Now her kids were almost all adults, except for Jack. He didn't get his growth spurt until he was almost 17, Denise got the shock of her life when she came to visit with her husband and sons, seeing the now 6ft, 18 year old towering over her made her feel old at 24, and a strange sense of something that she couldn't quite put a label on. She had caught him looking at her in the past, and couldn't help but not quickly stand up again when she bent, or not making sure her v-neck blouse was securely up over the goods. Teasing a horny 18 year old was fun. Fun that her husband picked up on, whispering to her, "You're very naughty,"

"Who? Me?" Denise replied, shocked and offended in her tone.

"You know what you're doing. That poor child is sprouting boners all over the place."

"You make me sound like a pervert, he's 18," Denise replied.

"Ah-Ha! So you are teasing him," Andre beamed, happy at being right for a change. "I'll have to take you in hand," he said, gently spanking her shapely bottom.

"Save it for tonight," she groaned as he caressed her buttocks, "Sarah is minding the kids tonight.

"Won't Lewis (The Youngest) be sleeping with us?" Andre protested, wanting some relief from his sexy wife right now.

Biting her lip, she replied, "Jack has a pull-out bed, we have the bedroom to ourselves.

They made good use of it, that night. With someone bearing witness to their copulation that would come to light many years later as the 18 year old Jack had heard the whole thing.

After that, life changed and the visits seemed to spread out over the years now to a point where Jack, Sarah's son, forgot all about his boyhood crush, having first fucked his way through university, before briefly settling down for 7 months with Alessia at 25, before that too broke down due to his wandering eye.

July 2024 - The Trip To Scotland

27 year old Jack sits in his car whilst talking to his poorly mother on his phone. "What does this, 'Dee,' look like again?"

He has agreed to fill in for Sarah, taking her old friend to a comedy gig in Glasgow, where she now lives. "Why did I agree to this, Kevin Bridges isn't even that funny anymore," he said to his mum, "Just to keep one of your old, gin-soaked friends company."

"Jack!" She said in that tone that made him apologise immediately before she continued, "You never used to complain about seeing her!"

He sat looking out onto an open square with his window down, trying not to be too obvious about checking out the hot, black MILF sitting at a bench.

"Tell me again what she looks like?" Jack asks, and for the third time is told, "Black hair, stonewashed jeans, a pink top."

Then his mother divulges the latest piece of information she has received from her friend, "Oh! Says she's sitting outside Starbucks."

Then it hit him, the hot, black girl had taken her coat off to reveal a pink t-shirt, and the stonewashed jeans too would also prompt the question that Jack thought would have been an important piece of description from his mother, "Mum.... is Dee Black?"

"Of course! You remember Dee / Denise."

Raining down on him like a fine mist, the memories of that forgotten crush hit home, those stolen glances and that last night they all stayed under one roof, wheel he went down to the toilet, praying that Denise and Andre's son didn't wake up on his pull-out bed as the successfully quiet sex his parents were having in the spare room, now spilled over to such a cacophony of slapping and, "Uh-ah-ah-ah," noises, that Jack had crept to the neighbouring bathroom, fished out his cock and was beating his 18 year old meat to the rhythm of Denise's pussy getting pounded, imagining that it was he was between her thighs, fucking her tight, black cunt.

Sadly, it would be all too clear why he wasn't fucking her, fending off his climax for a pitiful amount of time to cum over the toilet bowl, have time to clean up and feel ashamed, before Andre grunted his release into his hot and sexy wife.

"Jack?" His mother's voice took him back to present day.

"Yeah, Mum.... I see her now," he assured her with a, "Love you, bye."

---<>---

Jack's Story

'Holy Shit,' I thought, 'Here I am expecting to pick up some dried up or granny. I should pay more attentions to a conversation. It's Denise, she's still fucking beautiful!'

You see, yesterday (Friday) evening when my mum had rang me to give me first refusal for the comedian, she sold it to me in drips in drabs, mentioning the, 'Free Kevin Bridges Tickets,' first and foremost. Then came the driving to Glasgow part, still I was hooked as seeing a comedian in his home town, would be awesome. Them came the biggie, the part that had me reconsidering my sudden windfall as his mother mentioned, "You remember my old friend, Dee? You'll be ok to meet her in Glasgow and go with her?"

I had made a fatal error in my recollection of Mum's friends, you see, confusing the sultry, sexy Denise for my Mum's other Scottish friend, Deirdre, who behaved like my granny and looked like her, too. Rifling through the previous night's conversation that I hadn't really listened to, I picked out something about an illness and a divorce.

"Shit, Denise," I said aloud to the only person in the car, myself, as I saw her getting up and walking away from me, scanning the surrounding area and looking puzzled, as during my dazed recollections, a bus had stopped beside me and was blocking any chance of her seeing me.

Getting out, I locked it with the fob and broke into a trot shouting her name. Turning towards the sound, I'm sure my heart actually stopped, as first I noticed her round, beautiful face, her brown eyes, then her luscious lips, and then I was snapped from my observations by words that would put any sexual notions to bed, "Aaah! Little Baby Jack!"

Almost immediately, she started running / quick walk that was fast enough to almost be a run without making your boobs bounce, towards me. "Oh my God, it's been forever." Then she was hugging me, a big, hard squishy hug that pressed her well supported, industrial bra covered tits into my chest that, during her run towards me, I had noticed still looked striking in her now 30+ aged body. Doing the mathematics, she was 6 years older than me so that made her 33.

"Fucking hell, Denise, it's like you've stepped out from ten years ago," I said into her left ear as the hug seemed to tighten following my compliment that I'd followed up with, "You look astonishing!" when she finally released me. As she did so, I saw tears in her eyes, and doing something I would never have dreamt of 9-13 years ago, I cupped her face with my hands, wiping her tears with my thumbs as I asked, "Hey, what's all these for?"

Breaking away, she blew her nose into a tissue she had brought from a packet in her pocket, in hindsight suggesting she cried a lot now. "Oh ignore me, I got soppy in my old age and you've just made me feel about 90 years old. Then you start saying nice things to me and...."

"Denise," I said, standing before her and taking her shoulders in my hands to continuing, "You're certainly not 90, and you can knock the, 'Little Baby Jack,' thing on the head too, please."

Finally, I got that smile I recalled from my otherwise misspent youth. Chuckling through her tears, she reached for my hands, taking them both in what was now a mutually and immediate, touchy-feely start to our new, grownup friendship and said, "You've just made me smile for the first time in months."

As if realising that this was strange, she released my hands as if they burned and said, "This is going to be fun," before I directed her towards my car.

Inserting myself in the drivers seat, I saw out of the corner of my eye, Denise lowering the seat belt over her chest, to my regret that she'd decided to wear such an all constricting bra. Securing my own safety belt, I started the car and we were off.

As it was now 5:30pm, I suggested we have something to eat before the gig at the Barrowlands. I was just pondering where to take my teenage fantasy to dine, only to have to fight back the words, "Marry me," when Denise enthusiastically announced,"I know a really good burger-bar!"

Taking our seat in the American styled diner, I really had to concentrate on my menu and not just gaze at Denise as she studied the meals on offer.

I must inform you, dear reader, that Denise was the very first black person I had spent any length of time with, through my mother, and the silky skin I was fascinated by back then had not lessened it's effect on the 27 year old me. Her brow furrowed, and she caught me looking at her as she shyly said, "My eyesight isn't great in my old age," and donned a pair of black framed, quite thin glasses, doing nothing to diminish her sexiness.

This was bad, I was struggling already to not fall in love with her. How would I explain that to my mum? "Oh, I cheered your friend up after her marriage collapsed by living out a teenage fantasy, telling her I loved her."

Not that Denise would do anything other than laugh it off, coming from a 27 year old Optometrist who lived with his mother for much of the past 2 years.

After the waitress had taken our orders, she asked about my mum, understandably disappointed about not seeing her. "Oh, you know her, telling me I need to find a girlfriend, but then telling me off when I don't come home at the weekend."

"She told me about you disappearing at the weekend, and the schoolboy errors you make afterwards."

My eyebrows shot up as she'd said this, settling into her seat with her mojito cocktail in one hand, holding the straw to her glossy, crimson lips. "What has my Mum been saying?" I exclaimed.

In a reflex, naturally sultry move, Denise leaned into me, clutched the cocktail in one hand, with the other resting over mine on the table, she said in a low voice, "Oh my sweet boy, whenever you do something to a woman and make her scratch your back like you're been mailed by a grizzly bear, do put your top on in the mornings!"

I was mortified that she'd told her that, as indeed I had been caught by my mother several times, crossing the landing from the bathroom to my bedroom in a towel, displaying my, ahem, 'Battle Scars,' from the weekend before. Sex was my hobby at weekends, and when you practice your hobby, lots, you do get quite good at it. I don't always like to go down on my partners of a night, but I'm good with my fingers and my 6 and a half inch cock.

Meanwhile, back at the diner, "My mother must paint a very bad picture of me," I said, "But I'm just a sweet, young man who gets taken advantage of quite a lot."

"Uh-huh," she replied with a cheeky smile, "Sounds like your, 'Advantage,' is quite fragile,"

At this point I realised she might think I'm a careless slut, so I tried to save face by saying, "I'm careful, I'm respectful and nobody gets hurt, what else is a boy to do?"

She looked at me, holding my gaze until, typically, we were interrupted by 2 x burgers and chips.

The burgers were insane, thickly filled with onion rings, salad and the works. I hate all that salad, usually ejecting it from my meat on a regular basis. I was just weighing up how childish it would look to do it now, when Denise sighed, tutted and then lifting the lid off her burger bun said, "I forgot you get all this crap in them," before removing tomatoes, lettuce and everything else, bar her pate and the onions. Seeing my smile at the development in her meal, "What? You ask for a burger... you only want a bloody burger."

Shaking my head, "A woman of my own heart," I grinned, before copying her actions in removing the healthy stuff.

I just have to say it, Denise even eats sexily, pursing her closed lips as she chews. I, in contrast and according to Mum, eat like an animal, usually wolfing everything down much quicker than everyone, that once got me the unusual compliment from my ex live in lover, "You eat a meal like you eat my pussy," as where I only perform cunnilingus on a select few, whenever I do..... I do it properly.

I didn't like to talk with my mouth full, so there was silence between us until what can only be described as a sexual moan escaped from Denise's lips before, "How amazing are these burgers," followed soon after.

I agreed, but nothing I had put in my mouth made me salivate like that guttural groan from Denise.

Finishing our burgers, and nibbling on chips / fries, we chatted about her work, a pathologist like my Mum, only she specialises in forensics. Without going into any confidential details, I am quite certain I had a dopey look on my face as it dawned on me that her mind might just be as attractive as her, well, everything else.

It was now almost 6:30pm, and Denise was on her second Mohito, bought by me, much to her complaints. She wanted to, 'Go Dutch,' and pay for half of the entire meal, before I reminded her of that time when I was 15, and she took me to McDonald's until my mum finished her lecture. Even then I probably looked at her like I am now, but I had an excuse then, I was a child.

"I guess it'll be my turn next time," she said, "hopefully less than 9-10 years."

Driving towards the comedy gig, I think she chose the moment I couldn't really look at her, me being the driver, to ask me, "So, what did your mum tell you about Andre?"

Not really thinking about my answer as much as I should, I just loudly broadcast what I thought, "Andre is a foolish fool, full of foolishness for foolishly leaving you, like a complete fool."

Momentarily taking my eyes off the road, I stole a glance with her as she had burst out a laugh, as I had theatrically announced my thoughts. "You make me smile," she contentedly said.

"Better than crying like earlier, I don't like having that effect on women I like," I replied, holding her gaze as I awaited my turn to proceed on the road.

Picking up on the latter, Denise then remembered something my big sister used to sing to me in my teens to tease me, as a big sister might after finding out about my massive, silly crush on Denise. "Jack likes Denise, jack wants to..... wants to...."

"Stop it, I'll make you walk," I said with a big smile on my face.

"What was it, Jack," she didn't let up as I refused to play her game. "Jack likes Denise, jack wants to...."

"Oh look, we're here," I said as I spotted the venue up ahead.

"This isn't over, Mister," she said in that sexy, threatening, but beautifully sultry way.

Nearing the door, Denise got separated from me in the crowd, just momentarily but I could see it alarmed her. She had her arms across her chest, in hindsight I know why she was protective of herself, but back then, it just looked like a woman folding her arms. She came to my left, and to my surprise, she put her arm through mine and linked on me, again with hindsight, using my arm as a shield. "You ok?" I asked, quite surprised.

"Yeah, just don't do crowds anymore," she said as we walked towards our seats on the floor and near the front. My mum, who bought that tickets, doesn't do things by half.

Kevin was brilliant, I laughed ass off and Denise laughed so much that she was almost crying. She was buzzing when we left, almost dancing to my car and still linking on my arm, we sat in the car park for about ten minutes, talking about how good it was.

The teenage boy in me was fighting hard now, telling me to kiss her in this euphoria. It was almost like her troubles of her marriage breakup, and whatever health concerns she had yet to mention, were parked at the door for the night, and hopefully some of them might just stay there. Happily, the 27 year old me won, and I didn't eternally embarrass myself, just yet.

I took directions from her as I drove her home, chatting about her kids, both under 13. Parking up outside of her apartment block, she showed me pictures of them, both looking remarkably like her. Then she asked me a question I was purposefully avoiding, "So, where are you staying? Some posh hotel?"

I hadn't booked anywhere, planning to drive back home and as it was now almost 11 o'clock, I'd probably get there around 3:30am, if I didn't stop for a break. As I told her this, her face turned from smiling to concern, and she said in a caring, almost maternal way, "No, you're not driving home tonight, the kids are at their Grandparents house, kip in my eldest boy's room."

"Not at all, I'll be fine, I'll stop halfway and have a doze, really."

But she was adamant, and even went as far as to tell my Mum, calling her and telling her what I was planning. Handing me the phone, Mum gave me a bollocking, "I thought I told you to book that hotel room, you can't drive home - not at this time," and as I slowly relented, my fellow car occupant's smile slowly spread again, as she listened to my mother unequivocally telling me, at 27, I'd be in trouble if I didn't stay until morning.

"Put me on speaker," my mother said, before,"Hi, Dee," she said, to Denise's primary greeting. "Ok, he's kipping at yours, make sure he behaves and minds his manners."

"Mum, I'm 27."

"Oh, don't remind me, we've heard the stories and saw the scars."

"MUM!" I interjected, as Denise was rolling about the seat, trying not to laugh.

"You be nice to Denise, look after her.... and son....?

"Yes?"

"She's not some little tart from the disco!"

"We're going to go now," Denise and I almost said in chorus, before saying goodnight / love you, etc.

Then we went into hysteria, laughing at my old mum, now approaching 50, as Denise hit the nail on the head, "Who the hell goes to a disco now? Is it 1980?"

We were still laughing as we got out of the car, and forgetting to lock it, as I turned to do so, Denise was about to link onto my left arm again, meaning that as I pivoted round she almost fell backwards, tripping on the kerb and I instinctively put both arms around her waist to keep her up.

The moment lingered, she was breathing hard and I am certain that I was, too.

Her hair was down over her left eye, and she slightly shifted back as I reached up with my right hand to swipe it gently upwards. "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," I nervously said."

"I never said you were," she replied, "You know you've made me laugh and you've made me cry. It's just like a relationship in one day, and you'll leave me in the morning, too."

She'd said all this as a joke thing, but it hit home so hard that I let go of her immediately. I wanted to make her laugh, I'd made her cry happy tears and I wanted to do it again. I was quiet as she showed the way inside her own front door to her humble, 3 bedroom apartment.

She flitted about when we got inside, trying to hide the general debris from having a couple of kids. I asked her where the bathroom was and went to relieve myself, still struggling with my growing, or maybe fully grown feelings. Coming back into the living room, she wasn't there and I heard, "In here," from the kitchen. I entered, only to be faced with the rear of Denise, and I challenge anyone to find me a better, denim clad, shapely ass that I just wanted to walk up to, and cup in both hands. Thankfully, "Fancy a beer?" broke the spell, as she turned to me whilst holding two bottles of lime topped Corona in her hands, before handing one to me.

I tried not to look at her breasts the whole night, but now they were right in front of me, their imprisonment was all too sad, under the pink t-shirt that outlined the heavy duty bra underneath. As we stood in the kitchen, we clinked bottles saying, "Here's to a good night," and,"Cheers." Then she invited me to sit down with her in the living room, both of us sitting on one of two, two-seater sofas.

She then showed me more pictures of her two kids, and I admired her more and more as she gushed about their little ways, and her smile just got bigger and more content.

Denise then asked me if I wanted another beer, and not having to worry about driving, I happily accepted, and in my mind anyway, she floated off on a heavenly cloud to the kitchen. "I'm just going to get changed," however, snapped me away from the choir of angels in my head.

I was silently excited about what she would be wearing, imagining a camisole and panties like in the stories. If anything, what she came back in was less of a turn on than her ass in denim, as the loose fitting, long legged PJ bottoms covered most of her, doubled up by an equally spacious, matching peach top that came down over her bum. Also, that desensitising bra was underneath. How is a boy to, 'Lightly brush her breasts, creating a moan of arousal,' again like in the stories.

"So, tell me about Little Baby Jack," she teased, earning her a dirty look as she folded her left leg underneath herself to turn to me.

Turning in kind, the way I moved had momentarily put my face in front of hers, and just for a second, I thought, 'Should I?'

"I lived with a girl, but it didn't really work out. My fault."

"What was it, then? Did she not scratch your back enough?" She said, taking a sip of beer with that cheeky smile in reference to my mother kindly telling her about my claw-marked back, and I had more than one thought of what damage those nails on her could do, now gripping her beer bottle.

"Ok, so here's where the, 'Little Baby Jack,' thing will die in your mind," I pre-warned her before I continued. "I'm not proud of it, I'd not do it again, but she didn't want to go out one night so I did alone, and went home with another woman."

"Oh my God!" Denise exclaimed, complete with her left hand that she had been leaning on the slightly reclined sofa back with, over her mouth. "How did she find out?" I was surprised to note her level of excitement in her questioning, "Did someone tell her?"

"Hmph," I smirked, "much more modern and instantaneous than that," I explained, noting her pupils were hugely dilated. "She stalked me on google maps right from the nightclub to the girl's apartment, texted me to look out of the window and before I could run downstairs to stop her, she set fire to LOTS of my clothes and personal things....."

"Hahahaha!" Denise convulsed, flipping the footrest of her seat down as she spilled some beer on her PJ bottoms. "Oh my god, what did you do?"

"What could I do, I ran back up to the apartment, bringing some water downstairs and put the fire out."

"What did she say?" Denise asked, visibly invested in my story.

"Nothing! She got in her car and drove off. She wouldn't answer her phone so I went round to our apartment, but she'd already changed the locks!"

"You know, as a woman, I'm totally on her side?" Denise said, but still with a smile.

"I'm totally on her side!" I playfully shouted, "I was young and foolish, now I'm mature enough to see I was a complete asshole."

"How young and foolish?" She asked, as another sip of beer went into her, still glossy, lips.

"25...... but I'm a grownup 27 now," I tried to reclaim some moral ground, but again just made her laugh at me.

"Oh my God, you're killing me. 27 and grownup, while living with his Mammy and showing her his scratch marks in the morning!" I was glad to be a source of humour, before a natural silence then set in as we seemed to catch one another's eyes.

"I wouldn't ever cheat again, you know. I did feel awful, and not just because I needed new clothes....."

"To living and learning," she said, holding her beer up to clink bottles.

We had naturally held this strange glance, after sipping our mutual beers, and I felt the need to further repair any damage when I said into her beautiful eyes, "I just don't think she was my true soulmate, I'll have to just keep looking."

The silence appeared once more, she looked over my shoulder as if to break our gaze before looking back and imparting to me, "I thought I'd found mine. You never know what's going to happen,"

"Did he cheat on you?" I enquired, but she shook her head.

"My husband, sorry.... my ex-husband now, I'm totally sure still loves me, I still love him but......" She then asked me a question, breaking off her monologue, "What did your Mum tell you about me?"

I had been trying hard to remember the conversation my mother had with me about her, then random friend, with whom I would be meeting. Had I realised that Dee was actually Denise, I'd have paid much more attention, so I saved some face by saying, "Just that you and Andre were divorcing, was it something to do with you being ill?"

Playing with her hair, with the left hand that she leaned on the back of the sofa with, she kept looking at me, over my face and once down my chest as she selected, what in hindsight was a well rehearsed, general response, "Yeah, I had a few health issues. He was great at the start but..... it was a lot to last."

"Are you OK now?" I enquired, mirroring her stroking of her hair with my own, nervous about how much to ask.

"Yes." Was her assertive reply, "I've got my two kids, my health is not a worry and I've just had a wonderful night with a handsome boy."

"Boy," I laughed, "I'm 27 you know..... You'll be calling me "Little Baby Jack" again soon."

"God, you make me feel like a fossil," she said, throwing her head back before looking back to me, and as she did, her left hand had straightened across the sofa back, towards my face that now sported a shadow, having not shaved since about 6:30am. I was surprised when the front of her fingers brushed my light-grained stubble and she breathed, "No, you're really not Little Baby Jack no-more, are you?"

At that moment, I knew if I didn't say something light hearted, I'd kiss her. We were certainly close enough, on her two seated sofa. What I did say, however, turned out somewhat different. "You've changed too, no more tight, white t-shirt and thong, like you used to go to bed in."

"You cheeky bugger!" She said with a giggle, "Leave a lasting impression on little Jack?"

"What do you think? I was a teenager and you were......."

"What, go on tell me....?" She said, patting and resting her hand on my arm.

"You used to seem to try look sultry, sexy, and dress to make a statement," I offered, not even trying to hide the fact I was becoming besotted by her.

"How do I look now.... old? Frumpy? Like an old mother?" She said, still smiling.

Taking time to think, I sipped my beer, then I just let loose with my feelings when I said, "You do look like a mother, a great one. I loved the look in your eyes when you spoke of your children earlier. You even seem more relaxed since then...."

"That might be the beer," she quipped, and then we locked in one of those ever increasingly long gazes again and Denise allowed, "Maybe it's the company, too," to slip quietly from her lips.

Now I didn't dare speak, deliberately not filling the silence with a schoolboy comment. I shifted slightly, moving my torso towards her and she instinctively complied in following my actions. I set my beer on the table to my left, and not venturing anywhere else with my hand, reached to her face to stroke her cheek and said, "I'm going to fulfil an ambition now, dating back over a decade ago," and saying nothing more I leaned forwards, placing a soft, warm, perfect kiss on her lips, and not in any way perfect because of me, I might add.

Breaking off after less than 10 seconds from her closed lips, I searched her eyes for direction. "You're Little Baby Jack," she groaned in a husky voice, "You're my Pal's son....."

"You're only six years older than me, at least my Mum would like a girl I brought home, for once," I said, bringing a smile to her tense face.

"Jack," she breathed, and I moved forwards to her, only for her to pull her face back and I stopped, then she edged her lips towards me, and we kissed again.

Lightly cupping her face, I paced myself like with no one before, sensing that one misdirected gesture could end the moment. And what a moment this was, especially when she parted her lips to widen our mouths, and I took that as an invite, gently lapping at her with my tongue. It was she who moved first in her want to be closer to me, before inevitably, she broke our seal, with her left leg still bent on the sofa and her right one supporting her with her foot on the floor, she put her head on my shoulder and said, "What are we doing?"

I could hear my mother's words in my head, 'She's not some tart from the disco,' and I did get a moment's doubt and self-assessment about my ultimate goal for this embrace. Strangely, I had no desire to fuck her - a peculiar and new experience for me.

I could feel her hard cupped, stiff bra against my chest, the warmth of her face against mine as, again I spoke into her ear, "I don't know. But I'll stay here with you instead of going to the disco any time," and she quietly giggled for a brief second before coming out from beside my face to look at me.

I know my eyes closed when I felt Denise playing with my hair, as when I opened them, there she was staring back into mine. "Little Baby Jack," she said, differently to any other time as she elongated my name with a breathy tone to it, husky instead of her normally playful voice.

I didn't answer her, but I put my hands on her waist as she was pivoted towards me, half standing. Pulling her towards me, wanting her to straddle me, she hesitated. Her breasts were right in front of my face now, had I looked down I'd have been looking straight at them, although covered. But still looking up at her face, I saw everything I had ever wanted, realising that very fact for the very first time.

"I'm not some cheap tart," she said, and I really regretted my mother's comment for putting that thought in her mind.

"I'll tell you what," I said, still holding my precious package, "I won't touch you anywhere inappropriate, won't try to undress you, but I must live that moment of kissing you again. And in the morning," I said, and she raised an eyebrow as if I was presuming something sexual, "In the morning, I'll wake up alone in your kid's room, and when you're out of bed too, I'll try to kiss you some more."

This melted her, and it wasn't a move on my part as I meant every single thing I said to her. I had been in love before, so I would have said, but this feeling of selflessness and total respect, it took me by surprise as her brown eyes got closer, her soft, somewhat less glossy than before lips closed in on my mouth, and we kissed like reconnecting lovers.

I'm more than certain she had noticed my erection in my jeans, I'd been nervously hard for about 10 minutes, but as she finally brought her right leg up to sit astride me and sit on my groin, she let out this sensual groan as our tongues intertwined. My jeans weren't tight-fit, so my cock had room to stand tall in my boxers, and as we descended into what was now an unreserved, lip lock, albeit with my hands staying true to my word on her waist and back, one time - two times, she ground her pyjama covered pussy across my cock, whimpering erotically into my mouth on the second pass.

My 'Other Head,' was now screaming, "GO," telling me to strip her now and have my wicked way. Maybe I could have initiated it, but that wasn't what my actual head, and I'm sure heart too, wanted.

I broke off from kissing the most beautiful human being I'd ever met. I was, 'That Guy,' who over thinks everything as I rested my forehead on her sternum and listened to her panting as I said, "Maybe I need to leave you be, and go to bed now."

It seemed like about 10 minutes passed before her breathing normalised, but was probably only 20 seconds before she said, "Jack being sensible..... that's not what your Mum said."

Her pussy was right above my cock now, every breath she took was stimulating me, so it was through burning lust-fuelled want and desire that I spoke with my heart and said, "Denise, I'm serious. I'll kiss you in the morning until I go home, I'll drive down to kiss you some more next weekend, if you'll have me. But I don't ever fuck this up by treating you like some, ahem, "Cheap Tart.'"

Then she threw a curveball, maybe to test me as she rolled over my jeans once again and said, "And what if I wanted you to treat me like one?"

I buried my head into her sternum again, taking deep, measured breaths to calm myself as every fibre of my masculinity told me to ravage this woman, immediately. She stroked my back now, then my head and I pulled back to look at her, "I'd say, 'Denise, but you're not one, you're different to everyone else, and I'll be prepared to wait until it's perfect, to take things any further.' Even though I'm dying here, you tease!"

We locked eyes again, then our lips joined, only now more gently before she continued stroking my head as she said, "You're serious right now, aren't you?"

"Absolutely."

"Jack," she said, sliding off me and sitting almost in a foetal position beside me, her big eyes fixated on mine and she said, "I don't know what to do with that."

"Go on a date with me, next weekend," I instantaneously shot back.

"You know I've two kids?" She said.

"I don't care, bring them with you and we'll make a day of it."

"This is crazy, you're my friend's son, I'm like your big sister," she said, looking up at me whilst still crouched on the sofa.

"Trust me, I don't think either of us were feeling brotherly or sisterly a few minutes ago," I said as I came off the sofa to sit on my knees to say directly to her face, still with an expectant smile with big eyes.

"Next weekend..... alright, but It's Andre's weekend to have the kids so you'll not have to meet them, just yet," was what I thought was going to be the end of our intimacy, as we then just lightly kissed goodnight at the bathroom door, before Denise went in and I went to bed.

After being aroused all night, I hadn't masturbated, so I was still quite buzzed but the fact I was in her boy's bedroom, made it rather a turn off for self indulgence. I tossed and turned, I read my phone for a while and mainly tried not to think about the object of my desire, just a wall away. Now just in my boxers, black if you must know, I decided I needed a drink, standing about whilst sipping my water, I looked out across the city lights, pondering how on earth I got myself here with, of all people, Denise.

Of course I had a pang of regret, I remembered her as my fantasy, dressed in her tight, white t-shirt and panties as she stood chatting to my mum in our house. I recalled this evening, kissing her and feeling her grinding her crotch on mine. I remembered her voice groaning as she did it, a voice that I then heard saying, "Can't sleep either?"

I turned to answer but only got a few words into my, "Yeah, it just must be all the......." omitting the word beer as my mouth hung open, for there in the doorway right in front of me, was a 5ft 4 to my 5ft9, silky black skin to my pasty white, ruffled, short black hair to my light brown, short back and sides, goddess.

She was dressed as my very first wet dream, tight white t-shirt, covering everything but displaying her slightly more than a handful in their smashed down, bra covered tits and beneath those, was a gap of skin in between the strip of white material slinging her crotch, the thong covered haven that I had long lusted over.

"You can't be dressed like that," I said whilst trying to both look to drink in this image of perfection, and not look because I knew where this was going to end up, and I'd promised her it wouldn't.

"Come," she said, holding out her hand and I gripped it tightly, as if lost in the night. Leading me into her bedroom, she gestured me to sit on the left side of the bed, for her to lie back against some pillows up against the headboard. I followed her, but lay on my side whilst scanning her body before me and she asked, "Why can't I be dressed like this?"

It was too much, I knew if I even breathed her air, I'd want to fuck her. "I just......... you just," I stammered, trying not to tell her that I was thinking about stripping her and driving myself hard into her.

I got up and stood beside the bed, like an idiot, trying to save her from me. My hands were in my face as I looked at her from between my fingers, saying, "You just can't be dressed.... like that now...."

"Ok, how about now?" she asked, and as she did, she put her thumbs into the thong at her hips, lifted her shapely, black bottom off the bed and quickly pulled her thong off, leaving her totally naked from the waist down.

"Fuck," I said, looking up at her eyes before mine caught that flash of pink, as she spread her legs in the centre of the bed. No-one could resist the sight in front of me, sitting like the most tempting meal on a dazzling white tablecloth.

I didn't refuse, and tucking right in, I moved in between her legs and rested my crotch on hers, mine still covered but feeling her heat was almost enough. We kissed hard, mauling, hungry kisses, our tongues now very firm friends indeed.

The animal in me wanted more, and I kissed down her face and neck, making her groan as I kissed the softness of her nape. Denise gripped my head at each side as if directing me down her body, I kissed down the front of her t-shirt, down her left boob and felt the slightest push to her fingers and palms, down towards her pussy.

Getting down to the hem of the white t-shirt, meeting the contrasting skin and bellybutton made me groan as I licked the, 'Innie,' indent. I reached my hands up to cup her all-covered breasts, only to be met by her hands gripping mine, lowering them and placing them on her thighs, and I took the hint to spread her wide, pull her down the bed and look into her open flower, looking like the perfect, 'Turkish Delight," of pink between smooth, silky chocolate.

Kissing up her left thigh, I savoured the journey as I got to that fleshy line of her outer lips, closed in on one another with a hooded clit peeping out at the top, she was completely bald with her skin around her pussy a darker shade. I just started licking, in over the parted groin and in between her legs, taking one of those outer lips in between my lips and pulling. "Uh!" suggested I had did something she liked, so I repeated it on the other side, getting, "ah-uh-ah," in breathing out, in, out.

Now I brought my hands down to assist, using my thumbs to keep her lips apart and I dived in with my tongue up her slit, tasting her thick, musky nectar and parting her by flattening my tongue to lavish her from bottom to top, over and over again as she panted and writhed. Now I brought my thumb to her clit, and already there was the traditional, 'Man on the boat,' effect, as it stood just out from her folds in deep pink finish.

I reached up for a boob again, a left one, and was permitted access for a grope at her well padded and tightly secured tit. I moved over to her right breast, and was again greeted by her hands, returning my hands to her groin where I kept licking and sucking, up her slit then sucked her clit, kissed down a side then repeated again and again, in a well-rehearsed pattern that usually ends, like now, in locking my mouth on her clitoris and sucking it hard whilst flicking my tongue over it, hearing her cry out, "Oh Jack, oh Jesus, oh fuck I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm......"

I didn't stop, finishing her off whilst I watched her body squirming above me. She cupped her left breast, her right hand was in her hair, over her face and she bit her finger in an attempt to hold in the wail of her orgasm from ringing out into the night and waking the neighbours.

Looking up at her from between her legs, she was one hot, hot mess of sweat, lots of thick, Vaginal fluids and some saliva at the corner of her mouth. Even by my high standards, I had given her one hell of a climax.

I needed to be in her, so I kissed up her body, cupping her left boob and kissing all around it in her PJ top. "Please," she said, "up here," and pulled me by the shoulders as I lay between her natural cradle, "You're overdressed," was the last thing she said as she shoved my boxers over my hips and I took over, shifting my legs to have them now fall off my foot to the floor.

I tried kissing her tits as I settled in again, but she grabbed my face and returned it to her lips. "Next time," she breathed, "they're old Mum-boobs," she tried to put me off.

"I'm not.... convinced, I.... need.... proof," I said, punctuating our continued kissing.

"What would you rather focus on right now," she asked, gripping my cock and pulling up up and down, "Getting my tits out or getting this rubbered up to go in me?"

"Point taken," I said, getting off of her, "They're in my jeans pocket, wait there!"

"I'm going nowhere," she playfully shouted after he, seconds before I returned, trying to bite my way into a condom wrapper.

"Gimme," she said, gesturing with both hands, and as she got it out she said, "I've not done this in years," and I must have looked quite puzzled as she followed up with, "My husband just finished inside me........."

"As of last week, I'm clean," I said, watching her holding the condom between her finger and thumb.

She looked at my cock, then the condom and in a move that would prove to be totally fine by me, put the latex on the tip of my purple tip, put her mouth around that, and stroked and bobbed her head as she sloppily, loudly and with such great suction, expertly lowered the condom to my base with her mouth and corkscrew-motioning hands.

Like she had taken ownership of it, she gripped my cock again, pulling me towards her opening as she lay down. She was tight, and not just for a mother of two either, as I first felt a very slight resistance, before I slid all the way inside her wet and silky, all surrounding, smouldering hot sheathe.

"Oh God," she said, "Little Baby Jack's up my pussy," with her eyes now hidden by her hands.

"Little Baby Jack certainly is," I said as I lowered myself to lean above her, kissing her lips as I rolled my hips back and forward once, then again.

Now she uncovered her eyes, holding my head with her hands as we kissed, and I slowly built up the speed in which my cock dipped in and out of her, the kissing becoming more difficult as my focus shifted to feeling the sensation of Denise from my teenage fantasy, squeezing my cock with her muscles, that even through the condom, we're insanely tight.

We were bumping together, grinding together, we took a breather to pant together and she said, "You feel so good, little.... baby.... Jack."

"Less of it," I said, smiling down.

"Or you'll do what?" Denise replied, locking my hips in her vice like legs.

"Uh!" She said, as I thrust upwards with my cock delving deep, and she loosened her lock on my butt as I said, "I'll do that."

"Little..... Baby.... UH! UH! UH..... Oh Jack," I ended any conversation as I built and built on my growing tempo, watching her face as I pumped her pussy, watching her shoulders, her face, her entire body jostle up and down with each implement, until she couldn't match my thrusts with her cries anymore, about one in every 3 impacts as her orgasm rose to the fore and she went silent with her mouth wide open before her silent scream turned to, "OH...... FUCKING...... YES! OH YES, OH JACK!"

"I'm gonna cum," I also announced, and she hugged my ass with her legs again as I held my appendage up inside her, watching her gazing at me as my twitches announced I was filling the condom in what felt like pints.

Panting and wheezing, I kissed her like my life depended on it, hugging her stupidly close as I said, "I just had sex with Denise Fortune."

"Denise Brown, fortune was my married name. I hope you get used to it."

"Used to the name? Or the having sex?" I said as I smiled down at her, in my most cheeky, suggestive grin.

"Hmmmm, we'll need to talk about all that," she said as she took time to adjust her bra, still unmoved and untroubled by me.

Taking care of the condom in the bathroom bin, I returned to her to find her under the covers, with what was my side open, in invitation.

"Aren't you worried about boys like me in your bed? My Mummy warned you about me," I said, slipping in beside her and running my left arm under her breasts on her tummy, greeted by her warm right hand, holding me firmly in place.

I'm delighted to say we had sex once more, and I almost made it out unscathed as I fucked her from behind.

I say almost unscathed, because when I turned her over and placed her on her back, I staved off my impending climax by eating her out again, the one benefit from using a condom. Then, inserting myself back inside her, I showed her what I could do, and after eating her to just the edge of orgasm, it turned out that I did a lot, as my cock was clutched over and over again, and the trickle of her nectar dripped out of her as I fucked her hard in missionary, and I felt her arms up my back, her hands grip my shoulder blades and, as she came, she dug her claws right into me and screamed, "UHHHH! UHHHHH! AAAHHHHH!

"YYYAAAHHHH!" I replied, cumming in her warmth, albeit regrettably into a condom.

There was blood on her fingers, she started apologising but I told her it was OK, a sign that I did it right.

She then insisted on getting me tissues to stem the, quite surprising, amount of crimson, but soon her motherly side came out, and she had applied band aid to my 8, different depth cuts. "I'll make it up to you," she said, but I told her there was really no need.

"But there is one thing...." I said, unashamedly looking at her boobs.

"I told you, next time..... after we talk."

"You are a truly unique and complex woman," I said, bringing her to lay across my chest with her right arm over my stomach.

"How so?"

"You hide your chest but happily spread your legs, that's usually the other way around especially on a first date," I joked.

"Is that a deal breaker, a woman who doesn't get the... girls out much?" She said, "Do I bring out the itty-bitty-teenage Jack?"

"Absolutely not," I replied, feeling a little immature now that I'd brought the subject up.

"I'm complex, sue me," she grinned over at me. "No, we've just got a lot to talk about, if.... you know.... you want to see me more."

"I really do," I answered, "And what about you?"

"What will your mum say?" She bit her finger of her lower, resting left hand, "I'm a cougar now!"

"33 is not a cougar, it's only 6 years," I laughed, trying to soothe her, eventually breaking through to get more kissing. This felt right, perfect, and we talked until she fell asleep first, then I nodded off.

Waking up in the morning, the bed beside me was vacated, and I could hear the unmistakable sounds of Denise in full song. Smiling about this finding, I edged out of bed and set about finding all of my discarded clothes. Stepping into the small corridor, I first noticed the steamy aroma of a shower that had recently been used by a woman, all rose petals and other soft fragrances teased my nose as I had a pee and a wash. Venturing out into the main living area, I could smell bacon cooking, and entered the little kitchen to see an absolute vision from make-believe, as the peachy bum before me - actually clad in peach leggings - jiggled as she danced as she sang along to Dua Lipa. I didn't move so as to not make a sound as I indulged at Denise's amazing ass.

"Hi," she said, turning as she caught me in her peripheral. "I could be the one... I could be the one....." She sang.

"My oh my, you just might be," I said as I approached her, squeezing her butt cheeks as they were being displayed like an invitation.

She nudged me back with her ass, bringing with her the tray of bacon sandwiches she had prepared. I know which one I really wanted to tuck into right then.

"What time are have you to be home for?" She asked, pouring us both a cup of tea.

"I'd better not leave it too late, work clothes need washed, and other rock star lifestyle stuff!"

"Just so you know, Mum is dropping the kids off in an hour, it might be.... tricky to explain......"

"I get ya," I said with a smirk, "Don't want your mum to see what the cougar has brought home."

"You asshole," she smacked my hand with hers as she laughed at my suggestion, "Screw Mum, but the kids might find it strange to have you here....."

Finishing our breakfast / brunch, we chatted about old times with my mum and dad, the odd sights in our leafy suburbs of pasty white family having a black couple as friends. I had to ask her what was on my mind, "Will you end up going back to him?" I asked, reluctant to hear the answer.

She shook her head, "No, there is no way back now. Not because of you or..... God, whatever this is..... it's just over. Trust me."

As I was leaving, just slightly later in the afternoon, "You made me a woman again," she said as I hugged her, which I immediately found strange as by my standards, this package of humanity was and is the epitome of womanhood. But I took the compliment, returning it with a cheeky glint I said, "Does that mean you've just made me a man.... your man?"

"Little Baby Jack," she said, putting her arms around my neck, let's talk next weekend. I'll talk to you through the week."

"Oh," I said as I kissed her, sniffing her scent as I couldn't bottle it and we held each other like we didn't want to let go, "Jack loves Denise, he wants to kiss Denise, but he has to give her peace, or she might call the police," I sang in recollection of her mentioning earlier, the song my sister sang when I was a kid.

"I'm not phoning anyone," she laughed, holding me by the neck in her arms, the humour a welcome distraction, maybe because we might analyse it, maybe because this was the beginning of something, who knows - and then I was driving off towards home, and the many questions from my mother.

"So, how was it?"

"Kevin Bridges? He was hilarious," I didn't give her what she wanted."

"That's nice, I'm glad. And.... Denise?"

"Yeah, she's lovely. Definitely not, what was it you said was my type? A cheap tart?"

"Sorry," she said, looking slightly embarrassed, "We've become close again since.... everything that's happened her, I'm glad you two had fun."

"You do know I had a MAJOR crush on her, in my teens?" I grinned, hugging my mum.

She hugged me back, putting her hands on my shoulders and I winced at her touching right where Denise's orgasm-stricken fingers had gouged me. I broke off, went for a much needed shower and avoided any further questioning, remembering to cover up my wounds as I crossed the landing.

####

Countdown to Reconnecting

Denise and I texted at multiple points each day. I'd check my phone between customers, hoping to get a cheeky text about what we might do together. She had such a cheeky nature, as an example of which, I suggested we visit a nice Chinese restaurant in Sauchiehall Street, though I spelled it wrong and got a text back, 'Suck your what? I'm a good girl I'll have you know!"

It escalated, she sent me shots of her ass in the mirror, clothed unfortunately, but then on Tuesday I got one of her from just above her face, her beautiful brown eyes the main feature, as well as the down shot to her chest.

"I can't wait to look into those," I said.

"Do my big, brown eyes draw you in?"

"Eyes.....? Oh yeah, they're really stunning too," I replied, sending her that picture she sent, but zooming in on her boobs.

She didn't reply until later, as I was about to go in and see a customer, I just saw, "Trust me, a 33 year old mother of two..... I think you're better with my eyes."

Feeling bullish, and in hindsight, stupid with desire and lust, I replied with what could have been the most costly message of my life, "Lady, unless I arrive on Friday and you've turned into a 1-boobed woman troll, I'm having you naked."

Silence.

That night, a delayed, short reply to my texts, of which there were only two.

On Wednesday, "Something came up, I can't be free this weekend. Kids come first, sorry."

I was disappointed, to say the least. It got to Thursday and I was looking at my phone, fighting myself not to ask, "Are you OK?"

It didn't help when I eluded to Mum that I had no plans for the weekend because Denise and I had made plans to meet, but they had fallen through, and I had to save face by pretending I hadn't slept with her and pretty much fell in love.

Friday evening 5:30pm, I got home from work and had a shower. Mum wasn't in, so I didn't take clothes in with me. In truth, I had forgotten all about the marks on my back, but the deepest ones were still quite prominent.

Wearing just a pair of sweatpants, I was just crossing the landing when I heard a gasp, only to turn around to see my mother's face in shock with her hand over her mouth as we looked at one and other. "Did..... Denise.... do those?"

I didn't answer, I just sort of shrugged and said, "Mummmm, don't ask me that."

To my surprise, her shock turned to a smile as she said something strange, "You are a mature, warm, caring man. I'm proud of you."

"Eh?" I replied, looking at her in confusion.

"That man-child, Andre, left his beautiful wife because he couldn't handle her scars and her poor, embattled body. Did she tell you about her cancer? Andre abandoning her? When are you two seeing each other again?"

I had came out in a strange, cold sweat now, gathering myself together I said, "It was supposed to be this weekend but, something came up with her but..... Mum, scars..... cancer?"

To be continued...