Simone and I agreed to meet my parents first, since my parent's home is about a forty-five-minute drive from where we live.

We dressed casually and drove there on a Sunday, and Simone seemed a bit nervous on the drive there.

After our informal introductions with my parents, Simone assisted my mother in the kitchen. Lunch was almost ready when we arrived.

My parents and Simone hit things off well, which I expected. Simone and my mother enjoyed each other and talked much. I noticed Simone had a smile on her face the entire day.

On the ride back, Simone said that my parents were very nice and enjoyed their company. She said she was glad to get the initial meeting over with.

I asked if she felt at home with them.

Simone replied, "Oh, yes Austin. I had a good time and enjoyed your parents. Your dad is quiet, but he's very friendly. And your mom made me feel welcome, like I was part of the family and at home."

We decided to wait a few weeks to visit Simone's folk, mostly because of my work schedule and her parent's schedules seemed to clash.

Simone wanted to fly to the city where her parents lived, because the three-plus hour drive to their home and return trip would eat into much of the weekend. The flight would take roughly an hour.

With that settled, we made business-class reservations. Simone nixed the rental car, saying her parents would meet us at the airport and we could use one of their cars during the weekend.

I wasn't sure what to expect, although Simone revealed some more about her family since we had our relationship chat.

Both Simone's parents worked, according to her. But she didn't go into details of her parent's careers. According to her, her father was into engineering and business, while her mother was manager of a popular restaurant.

Simone didn't say much else regarding their personal lives other than they traveled some.

The weekend before our trip, Simone suggested we dress business casual for the flight. Naturally, her recommended dress code involved some shopping trips. Simone was adamant about the styles of clothes and shoes she wanted me to wear for the weekend. I complained a bit, but it was no use.

Fun.

However, Simone made the shopping interesting by teasing me with dresses or lingerie she wouldn't wear around her parents, but perhaps she would on one of our date nights. The clothing stores she suggested were not the ones I would choose, because of the prices. But I decided to pick my battles elsewhere.

Simone kept her word about the lingerie, as she surprised me by wearing a sheer, black teddy to bed that night.

Thursday evening arrived and Simone showed up at my apartment after work. As I helped her bring her things in from her car, I asked her how long she planned on staying.

"Don't be a smart ass, Austin!" was her reply.

Simone supervised my packing: meaning no T-shirts and my old tennis shoes.

We took off from work on Friday and asked a friend to bring us to the airport that morning. I wore khaki pants and a white collared shirt that Simone had cleaned, lightly starched, and pressed that week, along with a dark blue sports coat without a tie.

I felt like I was wearing cardboard clothes.

Simone wore a dark blue dress and shoes, along with a matching purse. Those items that made me wince at the price tags when we were shopping.

She looked professional, and sexy at the same time. Just being alongside of her made me look good.

And I managed to squeeze her ass a time or two when we walked through the airport’s concourses. Naturally, she lightly scolded me.

A few hours later, we disembarked our flight and made our way to the baggage claim.

Simone was nervous, perhaps more, than when we met my parents the previous month.

We made it to the waiting area with our luggage and we found Simone's parents waiting. Simone hugged both, before she introduced me to her mother first, then her father.

You want my impression, upon seeing them the first time?

It was like meeting someone who could resemble a movie type, mafia representative, and his beautiful wife.

Simone's father could pass as a Don, or whatever the head man is called. I assumed he was a former athlete, who kept himself in a healthy, physical condition.

He stood about six foot four, a bit taller than I, with dark brown eyes that had a similar look in them as my former co-worker, Marty. Also, he had dark hair with some greying. He was dressed in business formal attire that wasn't from some cheap chain clothier.

He shook my hand with a firm grip and welcomed me.

Was I intimidated?

Well, let's say that I didn't want to piss the man off.

OK, you want to know about Simone's mother.

Can I say that Simone inherited her looks from her mother and leave it at that?

She was as tall as Simone, similar body features or phenotype and could pass as Simone's older sister.

To remind you, Simone - and her mother - stand five foot, nine inches, same long dark, brown hair, dark mascara-lined brown eyes as Simone, very feminine and pretty to look at.

If the term MILF had a picture next to it in a dictionary, Simone's mother would be a good example.

She was dressed in black, both the blouse and pants, with black closed-toe shoes and a purse that I wouldn't want to pay for. I guessed Giorgio Armani or something similar, because Simone bought Giorgio Armani clothes when I went shopping with her the previous Saturday.

Also, Simone's mother wore a large diamond ring, custom-crafted gold bracelets, and matching necklaces. Simone told me about her jewelry later.

Simone's mother spoke with an accent that reminded me of someone, but I couldn't place it.

As we walked through the airport terminal, I understood why Simone made me go shopping. I would have worn jeans with a polo shirt, and I would not have presented a good first impression.

As we left the terminal, Simone carried her small makeup case and purse, while she and her mother chatted. Her father pulled Simone's suitcase alongside of him, as I pulled my suitcase and carried the travel bag. He brought us to a dark red Mercedes SUV parked nearby the terminal exit.

When he opened the back to put our luggage inside, I complemented him, "Nice car."

He smiled and told me, "Thanks, this is the wife's car."

Then he added that I might like what he had at the house.

The ride to their house included the usual chatter, with Simone and her mother doing most of it. Apparently, I was doing well, with Simone sitting close by my left and holding my hand in hers along the way.

I suppose I passed the first test, because they did not bring me back to the airport. Instead, they brought me to their house, which was about an hour 's drive from the airport.

The house was well out of my league, I noted. The property was several acres, bordered by long, white wooden, three railed fence. We turned into a long driveway toward a huge white house with white columns that lined a long wood and brick porch with tall windows. The front porch was accented with trimmed shrubs and a porch swing hung off to one end. A few professionally arbor-ed trees shaded a well-manicured lawn that the fence surrounded.

It reminded me of a top-notch professional golf course. Included was a large, matching four-vehicle garage or motor space, built almost onto the rear section of the house. A connecting passageway provided access shelter against inclement or cold weather.

After Simone's father parked outside of the garage, he and I gathered the luggage and followed Simone and her mother inside the house.

If I could interject a thought that popped into my head, it would be something like: "Behind every successful woman is a man; checking out her ass."

I was discretely checking out Simone's and her mother's asses...

We entered their kitchen, which made my apartment kitchen look shabby in comparison.

This kitchen was immaculate. It included a large black gas oven and stove, trimmed with brass, a large black refrigerator, with a matching freezer, and the ceiling had copper-bottomed pots and pans hanging from a "boat" above a large white and black marble counter. It reminded me of the kind of kitchen style one would likely see in a European restaurant.

I complimented it and asked Simone's mother if she enjoyed cooking.

She smiled, "Austin, both of us love to be creative with cooking and baking things."

Simone added, "Austin, Mom is a professionally trained chef. She's from Cypress and studied in France."

I must have looked stunned, because her mom, smiled, took my hand, and proceeded to show me around their house. I felt completely out of place. She told me to feel at home, when we went to the guest room where I would sleep. Meanwhile, her dad went outside and parked the SUV in the garage.

After Simone and her mother changed clothes and settled in, they met me and we sat in the den chatting. Simone's father came from his study, dressed casually. I remained dressed as I was on the flight, minus the coat.

He began, "Austin, I understand that you are into building management and automation systems."

"Yes, sir," I replied. "My company handles private businesses, government and other places. It’s an international company, also."

He nodded and mentioned that he was familiar with my company. He had their security systems installed in the buildings on the company's campus, but not at his house.

A few minutes of chat continued, then Simone's father asked, "Would you like to see the rest of the place?"

Taking his hint, I followed him outside. He led into his well-lit and climate-controlled garage. When we reached the last stall, I was stunned at the car parked inside.

"This was a graduation gift for me," he said as he walked over to the car.

I said, "That's quite a gift: a 1968 Corvette!"

He smiled and said, "Thanks, it's a rare car that came from the factory with all of the high-performance and other options."

He seemed to like that I knew the model year.

He reached a button on the wall nearby and the garage door opened. He got inside the car, then he pushed in the clutch, put the car in neutral, started the engine and let it idle for a moment. The sound was like a deep purring cat and not missing a beat.

He revved the engine a couple of times, watching the gauges, then, turning back to me, he asked, "Would you like to take a ride?"

"Sure!" was all I could muster.

He backed it out of the garage, then once I got in and seated, he took off quickly, briefly putting Newton’s Second and Third Laws into action, pushing me back into my seat.

The driveway stretched roughly two hundred yards and he didn't waste time getting to the end of it. Then, checking the highway and saw it was clear of traffic, he downshifted and floored it.

I wouldn't have suspected this man of owning a car as this, nor would I have suspected that he could drive it like a professional. He didn't miss a shift and the car obeyed everything he demanded of it.

I didn't ask how fast we went because I thought I was having vertigo or tunnel vision during the acceleration.

As we returned, he was quietly smiling. But when I got out, I suppose my body language and facial expression made him laugh.

"What?" I asked after he put the car away.

"Austin, you were white as a ghost!" He said laughing.

Simone came outside, looked at me then turned to her father, "Dad, you scared him!"

"No," I said. "He got me by surprise."

He patted me on the back and went inside.

A bit later, Simone's mother had a fantastic dinner prepared, setting on a heavy wooden antique table and matching chairs. Simone's mother said it was called Shrimp Santorini over some fine pasta, with French bread, butter, and a white wine.

She explained it was a Greek or Mediterranean fare and explained that she made for her final test in culinary school. After I had a couple of bites, I replied, "If you didn't pass as the number one student, then the school should have shut their doors!"

Everyone laughed as Simone's mother blushed a bit.

We had a light dessert of a key lime pie after dinner. I thought I going to have taste-sensory overload.

After dinner, Simone's father took me into his study.

His walls were lined with several framed pictures, diplomas that included electrical engineering and a business degree, two patents, and a couple others with some presidential and military honors.

A large bookcase lined the wall behind a large oak desk, that had a few pictures of Simone and his wife. His computer monitor sat on a side table next to a swiveling leather chair.

Two leather chairs were in front of his desk, a leather couch lined one wall, while an oak cabinet stood on the opposite wall.

He offered me a drink from the cabinet, which I accepted. Not a bourbon guy, I winced at the first sip.

"Austin, you don't drink?" he asked.

"Just an occasional beer or two" I replied.

He smiled and we began to chat a bit.

He told me about some of his business, which dealt with industrial and petrol-chemical companies. He had a couple of patents, he said, "That paid off very well."

He explained once he began to make money off the first patent, he went back to college to get a business degree. He told me his first degree was in electrical engineering, which came by using his G.I. bill from his military duty.

I noticed that he didn't speak about his military duty and the honors. I knew not to ask if he didn't bring it up. I remembered that my former coworker, Marty didn't talk much about his military service, either.

Nor did he say what he graduated from to earn the Corvette.

Simone and her mother entered the study a bit later and sat on the sofa.

Simone asked, "Dad didn't scare you again, did he?"

We laughed when I said that his bourbon kicked like a mule.

Later, after the parents told us goodnight, Simone and I went outside to chat on their porch.

"I hope you're doing OK, Austin," Simone said as we sat on the porch swing.

"I am impressed," I understated because I was stunned.

I had been acquainted with Simone for over a year by this time. We were casual friends at the beginning, and we began to grow closer as the days and weeks passed. All the time I've known her, I never suspected her coming from this lifestyle.

She never hinted about it. Her apartment and car were average, and I figured she came from a middle-class family, with all that came with it.

Simone explained she wanted to make it on her own and keep her family under a low profile.

"Dad was always leery of the guys I dated. Mom was just as cautious. I guess the guys were intimidated."

"So, how did you, your-"

Simone cut me off.

"Austin, we didn't live here at that time. We lived closer to the city in an upscale neighborhood."

Simone paused, then continued, "Mom felt sorry for Michelle and accepted her. But she didn't know about Michelle's lifestyle. Dad didn't know about the guy, as he was handling his business and such."

"What did they say or do?" I asked.

"Mom had to rush me to the hospital after I told her what happened. I had been bleeding a lot over a couple of days after that. The doctor- if you want to call him that, said bleeding would occur over a few days. But..." Simone's voice trailed off.

Simone sat quiet for a moment as we looked off into the dark landscape.

"What about your dad? I'm sure he was pissed," I asked, breaking the odd silence.

Simone's tone changed some, "I've heard something about Dad's reaction while I was in the hospital, but I never confirmed it or asked Mom about it."

Simone took a deep breath, "Dad had the guy brought up on assault charges. His lawyer recommended it. I asked mom to intercede and drop the assault charges. After all, I didn't want him to go to prison. That doctor lost his practice and dad sued him.”

I saw tears drop from Simone's cheeks, so I moved in closer and put my arm over her shoulders.
"Simone, I didn't mean to bring that up again. I'm sorry."

Simone wiped her tears away, "Austin, it's OK. You need to know. That guy got off on unlawful carnal knowledge. He did almost two months in jail, and ended up getting murdered not long after he got out. One night, some thug attempted to rob a convenience store he happened to be in, shot him in cold blood, while the cashier was wounded."

"Damn!" was all I could manage to say.

Simone stood up and reached for my hand, "Austin, let's take a walk for a bit."

As Simone brought me around to the back of the house, she explained there was a place she used to sit alone and read books. It was under an old oak tree, about fifty yards from the house. A rope swing hung from a branch.

Simone looked around, "This is my quiet place, Austin. I visit here every time I come back."

"It's very peaceful and there's many stars out tonight," I replied.

We stood there for a moment, holding hands.

Unable to resist, we held each other in a long kiss.

Although Simone's mother placed us in separate rooms that were beside each other, it didn't stop Simone.

Wearing only a t-shirt, she quietly closed the bedroom door, got in bed, and lay on top of me.

"I hope the bed springs don't squeak," I whispered.

"Austin, you're such a romantic," Simone whispered before she kissed me.

Then she wore me out.

Have I mentioned I loved eating Simone's pussy?

Simone moaned something about me having my underwear on after she got in bed. She bent down and yanked them off and began to give me a blow job. Taking advantage of Simone's position, I encouraged her to move her ass on top of my face.

It didn't take long before Simone began to have orgasms. She began moaning and I had to whisper to her to bury her face in the pillows or her parents might hear us.

The last thing I wanted was to have her dad burst into the room and kick my ass for having sex with his daughter.

I performed some finger and tongue play around her anus, and Simone began to have one of her larger orgasms. That's when I inserted a finger deep into her anus while sucking hard on her clit. She began to convulse while moaning loudly into her pillow.

A moment later, she threw herself off me, and laid beside me, quietly whimpering.

I moved on top of Simone and began to slide my cock into her wet pussy. That’s when Simone wrapped her legs and arms around me, hugging me tightly.

She was pushing me hard and fast into her with her legs, while I was trying to keep up the pace and breathe at the same time.

Simone motioned for me to roll over and she rode me hard and fast. She began to have another orgasm and when it passed, she rolled over on her stomach. I slid in behind her and it wasn't long before Simone began to orgasm again.

I don't know how it happened, but suddenly, the thought of Simone's mother popped in my mind.

I tried to block the thought, but before I knew it, I was blasting my load in Simone's tight, wet pussy.

As I lay beside Simone, catching my breath, she rolled over and kissed me for a long moment. Then she got up, put her T-shirt on, and went back to her room.

The next morning, we had an incredulous breakfast of Western omelets, toast with jam, and coffee. Simone's mother had me spoiled at that point.

And I told her that, too.

She laughed and gave me a hug.

Simone had plans to take me around that Saturday. We went to the garage and in the third stall, was her other car, as she called it: a white Mercedes convertible, parked between her dad's large black SUV and the Corvette.

"Dad would never let me drive his baby," Simone said, as I looked at the Corvette. Another item I noticed, Simone's dad had a small workshop built behind his Corvette and it was kept neat and clean.

We rode around the city as Simone pointed out their former home, the schools she attended and a few other places she had memories from.

We stopped at a small BBQ place outside of the city, that Simone suggested. I had heard that in these parts, the BBQ was very good.

And I wasn't disappointed.

Later, that evening, Simone's mother prepared incredible filet Mignon steak medallions topped with crab meat and small shrimp with a wine sauce, with a loaded baked potato and salad. Dinner was topped off with large, brandied strawberries with homemade whipped cream on top of freshly made shortbread for dessert.

I was almost wiped out from the meal, and I thanked the lady for a meal that I would not soon forget.

Simone helped her mother clean up after dinner as I joined her father for another shot of bourbon in his study. I tried not to gasp, but I'm not a bourbon guy.

I noticed one of his military citations mentioned something about Special Operations, but I didn't get to read all of it. As we talked, I spotted a small picture on the bookcase, behind his desk chair, of two men wearing what I recognized as tiger stripes and boonie hats from the Vietnam War era. He didn't bring up the subject, so I didn't ask.

Later, Simone and I took another walk out to her tree after dinner.

I don't think I need to mention we had sex again, do I?

And I had the image of Simone's mother pop into my imagination, again.

The next day was traveling day, and Simone's parents wished us off at the airport.

I got a big hug from Simone's mother, and then her dad shook my hand as he patted me on my shoulder.

I think they liked me.

Simone confirmed my thoughts by kissing me after we sat in our assigned airline seats.