Coming through the foyer John heard his stepmother crying in the den. That was odd. She'd always seemed so stoic. She never showed her feelings at all. John often had wondered if she even loved him or his brother. It was not important now but it had been when they were growing up. After she married their father. She'd never been emotionally demonstrative. John couldn't remember the last time he saw his parents hug or share a kiss. But that was just stepmom Sylvia. Or so he always thought.
John had recently graduated from college and came home for the summer. He was diligently searching for employment but had been unsuccessful as of yet. He had no doubts he'd find something, but in the meantime his parents didn't express any problems with him being there. He just took back his old room. His older brother was out of the house and working in a nearby city. He had married and settled into an apartment. So, it was just John and his father, Griffith, and Sylvia now.
His father worked long hours. He always had. His work even kept him away from home for periods of time, ranging from a few days to a few weeks. He worked for a military contractor which supplied computer equipment and the training to go with it. Father was a computer engineer. In fact, he was away right now on a mission to train some troops at a base in another state. That left John and his stepmother alone.
He had always known that Sylvia was beautiful. His friends at school constantly reminded him. She was only twenty years old when she married Griffith. He'd been an instructor in college, but not yet a professor. John had been three years old and his brother Craig was a year older. They didn't even remember their real mother.
Sylvia was only forty years old now. And she was almost fanatical about staying in good shape. It seemed an obsession sometimes, but it had rubbed off on the two boys. John still kept himself in great condition. And his stepmother was still the loveliest mother among all of his friends.
Sylvia had never finished college. She married her instructor boyfriend and quit school. Father left his college and got a job in private industry as a trainer. Stepmom took care of the apartment and the two boys. She even had a part-time job to help with the expenses. They were lucky. Griffith's rise was steady, as was his income, but he also was spending more and more time away from home.
The boys never really knew him, nor did they have any special feelings for him. Sylvia, on the other hand, was different.
Her distance from them always hurt. But they grew out of it. They both did well in school, went to good colleges, and were alright now. And Sylvia was still distant, cool, and unemotional. They both just recognized that their stepmother was not like the other mothers who were always hugging their children and praising their efforts, with smiles on their faces.
And now, for the first time ever that he could remember, his stepmother was expressing emotion. And it was manifesting itself in crying. What could she be unhappy about. His father being away again? Perhaps. Even though he felt he might be intruding, and not knowing if his presence would be welcome, John went into the den and saw Sylvia supine on the leather sofa. She had her face covered and her lovely hair was spread out on a throw pillow underneath her head.
"Sylvia? Am I intruding? Can I do something for you?"
It startled her. She sat up abruptly, looking oddly at her stepson, and wiping away the tears.
"Oh. No, John. It's really nothing. Just a bit blue. It'll pass. Thanks anyway."
So John nodded and went away. He went to his room. He decided to take a shower. It'd been a long day. He'd interviewed at three businesses in the nearby city. He felt he had done well, but would still have to wait to see if he got any callbacks. He was still wondering about Sylvia. It didn't seem that she had been truthful with him. Being a bit blue didn't seem part of her character.
When he came downstairs for dinner he noticed that the dinner table had not been set. He wondered where his stepmother was. He decided to check the den again and found her still there. She was now sitting with her legs crossed, but with her face in her hands. Her sobbing was more quiet now but it was obvious that this couldn't go on. His stepmother wasn't like this. He thought to himself that she must need some help.
John went to the sofa and sat down with her. She felt his presence and then placed her arms around him. As she cried into his shoulder he could feel the trembling of her warm body. This was the first time in many years that he had touched his stepmother. Even under the circumstances it felt very good. He was surprised at how much he had missed having the touch of a mother. He stroked her long, brown hair and just held her.
Finally, she let go of him and then stood up. She began pacing around the book lined den, on the damask rug, and her ballet slippers made no sound. But her legs were lovely. He couldn't help noticing. She had a spectacular body and it showed in the white silk blouse and black cotton skirt that swirled around her knees. At last, with a sigh of acceptance, she turned to John and spoke.
"This is terribly embarrassing to me. I shouldn't be talking to you this way. But I have no one else to talk to. I've never had any close friends in this town. I've never been close to your father. That's the biggest problem. Marrying him was such a mistake. That's why I'm so ashamed to tell you this. But I have to tell someone. I think it'll drive me crazy if I keep it in any longer."
John was a little frightened, but also quite proud that his stepmother should have such confidence in him.
"Sylvia, I'm not about to tell you what's best for you. I couldn't begin to know what your life has been like. You must know that we've all wondered why you were so cool at all times and never showed emotion. But I'm your stepson. I'll do anything I can to help you. Family always comes first. Craig thinks that, and so do I."
"Please know this, John. I've always loved you and Craig. I tried to love your father. I did. But he never let me in. It was a mistake to marry him in the first place. I had no idea at the time what he was like. But we both were young and really had no business trying to make a family. I think he only wanted someone to take care of you two boys."
I looked at her quizzically. I was hearing things completely new to me.
"This may be difficult for you to hear but I don't think your father ever intended for us to have a normal relationship. I saw rather quickly that we'd never really love each other. In fact, I think your father is gay. Does that shock you? It shouldn't. Back in the time we married many gay men didn't come out for years and years, and many married and had families. I think you two were aberrations. When your mother died he needed help."
"Sylvia, that's no big deal today. The real problem, I think, is that you've had a loveless marriage. It's a pity and a real shame. You could obviously have any man you wanted. I know it may sound cruel to Father, but you should consider finding a man who would appreciate you and love you. That's all I'll say. I think you have a decision to make, but I'll help all I can. Really, Sylvia, Craig and I always loved you. We just never thought you loved us."
"Oh, god, please John. It was never that way. I know I haven't been a perfect mother, but I tried to give what I could. I've felt lost and alone so many years. Please forgive any pain I gave you. I didn't mean it to be that way. Truly, John. I do love you. I love you dearly, I just feel very lost and confused."
"Well, think about what I said Mother. You need to find someone who cares for you. It's that simple, I think. Now, if I'm not being insensitive, I need to eat. Shall we just go out and have something? I know you don't feel like cooking now."
"Oh, yes, John. That'd be fine. Forgive my thoughtlessness. We'll just go down the street to the Italian place and get something. That would be fine. Just let me fix my face."
John went into the front room and waited. As he did he considered what a waste it had been. To think, a woman as lovely and sexually appealing as his stepmother should have a loveless, virtually sexless marriage. It wasn't right. He recalled Sylvia crying on his shoulder, and also the strange feelings it aroused in him. He had actually felt his cock getting hard. That was pleasant to recall. As he did it began to get erect again. Sylvia was so fucking pretty, and sexy too. Oh well.
Sylvia came into the front room with a wrap in case it got cool in the restaurant and wearing high heels now. John rose and they went out to the car. He looked at the lovely curve of her calves. John drove to the restaurant. Only a mile or so away. They went in, ordered dinner, and some wine to accompany it.
Sylvia had started serving wine to her stepsons as soon as they came of age. She loved wine with her meals. She always had. Tonight she wanted to feel good. She was tired and wanted to just have a little enjoyment.
The dinner was pleasant for both of them. After chatting about John's interviews they discussed Craig and his wife and how they were getting on. That seemed to be a good match. The conversation continued with innocuous subjects and the wine had its affect on Sylvia. She was touching John's arm as she spoke, more and more often. She was quite sleepy when they finally left. She even allowed John to pay.
When they arrived home Sylvia was a little unsteady. John helped her up the stairs to her room. At her door she turned and hugged him. Then she kissed him on the lips. That was a great surprise. The greater surprise was that the kiss lingered just a moment longer than he would have expected. Then she said goodnight and went into her room.
Sylvia closed the door. She went over to her bed and began undressing. She was able to remove her high heels and then her blouse and skirt. She fumbled with her unnecessary bra and her black panties. Her breasts were firm and perky. Not large, but still upright, and with nipples that were tiny. Like little rubies. She had wanted to shave her pussy years ago. It might feel so good when she masturbated all alone in her room. Perhaps now she would. She hadn't shared a room with Griffith since the boys had started school.
