Chapter Eleven: Lolita
I didn’t tell my mother about the little mutual masturbation session I had with the hunky widower next door. Actually, I can only speculate that he was up there beating his meat while he was watching me diddle myself in the pool. I mean, he is a SEAL, after all, and supposedly SEALs are the horniest guys in the military according to the internet, though I had no idea how they would even gauge such things. It must be all that time they spend underwater. Wow… I bet SEALs could eat pussy without ever coming up for air. Anyway. If he wasn’t up there jacking off his big fat Navy cock he was not the man I expected him to be.
* * *
I was doing my best to act interested as my mother droned on about her shitty day at work, but dirty thoughts kept bouncing around my brain, hampering my ability to focus on anything other than my afternoon of fun in the sun.
Me, naked on the raft with my fingers in my cunt, the hot SEAL peering through the curtain with his cock in his hand, his eyes watching my fingers slide in and out, in and out…
Sigh...
I could still feel the hot juices pooling between my legs sitting there at the table. Thank God I’d put on a pair of fresh panties and cutoff jeans. If I had still been wearing my stinky bikini bottoms mom’s stinky-pussy detector would have been going off like a fire alarm. I squeezed my thighs together and pushed out a heavy sigh.
“So, how was your day,” mom asked as she stuck her fork into the last bite of microwave lasagna on her plate and held it to her mouth. “Did you see anything happening at the neighbor’s house?”
“I never saw him,” I said with a disinterested shrug, like I hadn’t given my neighbor or his dead wife another thought. It was the truth, though. I had felt his presence, but I had never seen him. “His Range Rover was gone when I went out to the pool after lunch. I guess he came back right before you got home because his car was there, but I didn’t see him go inside.”
“I wonder if he has his little boy with him,” mom asked, chewing slowly. She propped her chin on her hand and got a dreamy, faraway look in her eye. “I’m trying to remember what he looks like. Ben Ryder… what a great name… It’s so weird, they’ve lived there for what, three or four years, but I don’t think I’ve ever even met him in person. Have you?”
I chewed the lasagna, which tasted like rubber with tomato sauce soaked into it, and shook my head. “Last time I saw him was like two years ago when I was out front washing the car.”
She arched her eyebrows. “He’s hot, right?”
I giggled. “Yes, mom, he’s hot. Big guy, lots of muscles, dark hair, good looking, nice smile.”
“Hmm, sounds like someone I should get to know.”
“Jesus, mom, his wife just died,” I said, rolling my eyes at her. “Give him time to adjust, why don’t you.”
“I don’t mean that I’m going to hop the fence and fuck his brains out tonight,” she said playfully. “I’ll give him a little time to mourn. Trust me, honey, nothing makes a man happier than a nice piece of sympathy pussy.”
“Jesus, you’re terrible,” I said, trying not to grin. She was terrible, but she was also hilarious and outrageous and probably correct. I was sure that Mr. SEAL would feel better after a nice fuck and suck, but it was a little too soon to even think about that. I mean, giving him a show at the pool was one thing, but actually hitting on the guy even before his wife’s body is cold, well, that just seems wrong in so many ways. Besides, mom had plenty of boyfriends and I just had Kevin. If anyone should make the poor widower next door feel better, it should be me.
“Why don’t we take him the rest of this lasagna,” she said, tapping her fork to the aluminum tray that held what was left of the rubbery pasta. I winced at it. I couldn’t believe we were even eating this crap. The truth was, if it wasn’t for our microwave and the Domino’s pizza down the road, we would have probably starved.
“This crap is gross, mom. I wouldn’t’ feed it to my dog if I had one.”
“It’s not that bad,” she scolded. “Besides, I bet he hasn’t had a good meal in forever.”
“I’m pretty sure this won’t be much better than the crap he eats in the military. In fact, it’s probably worse. This is like the crap they feed those Al Qaida terrorists they have in custody at Guantanamo Bay.”
“Fine, then let’s bake him a cake or make him some cookies.” She leaned back with a big smile on her face and licked the sauce from her lips. She rubbed her hands together and looked around the kitchen like she’d never seen it before. “Let’s see, do we have any cookie making stuff?”
“Mom, leave the poor guy alone,” I said. “At least for a few days.”
“Maybe you’re right,” she said, pouting. “I wonder when the funeral will be.”
“The funeral home probably has it online,” I said with a shrug. I picked up my phone and launched the Google app, then tapped in “Bethany Ryder funeral Arlington”. Good old Google didn’t disappoint. I held up my phone and read the notice on the funeral home website to mom.
“Funeral services for Bethany Ryder, age 32, will be held Thursday at 3 P.M. at the Arlington Chapel Funeral Home. Mrs. Ryder died over the weekend in a tragic automobile accident. She is survived by her husband, Captain Benjamin Ryder (Navy, retired), age 33, and their son, Cody, age 4. After a private service for family members only, Mrs. Ryder will be laid to rest next to her parents in Arlington Memorial Gardens.” I blinked at the phone. Suddenly, things weren’t so funny anymore.
“Wow, that’s so sad,” I said, brushing a knuckle beneath my eyes. “Poor guy, having to raise that little boy all on his own.”
Mom seemed oblivious to it all. “Fine. The funeral is Thursday, so I’ll stop by the Food King on Friday and pick up a cake or something on the way home. We can take it over and introduce ourselves.”
“I assume you’ll wear something slutty,” I said, rolling my eyes at her.
She just smiled and held out her hands like one of those bimbos on The Price Is Right. “My darling, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing. Trust me, I can make it look slutty.”
She got up and cleared the table and put the dishes in the sink. I picked up what was left of the lasagna and dropped it into the trashcan.
There was no way I would offer that crap to Mr. SEAL.
Especially when I had something so much more delicious in mind.