The Slumber Party Ch. 01

Jessica was stunned by this turn of events and had lapsed into something close to depression. That was part of the reason why she hadn't sought out a new partner for herself; anyway, the idea of getting back into the dating game at the age of forty filled her with trepidation and revulsion. What man would want to link up with her and her two rather rebellious teenage children? And she was gun-shy herself, not wishing to risk getting emotionally involved with someone who might just decide to leave with no warning.

The end result was that, at an age when many women experience their most powerful sexual urges, she was a single mother doing her best to keep her household together while paying little attention to her own needs. It wasn't, indeed, that she couldn't have attracted almost any man she wanted: at forty-five she looked ten years younger, with lustrous blond hair (she regretted that neither of her children were blond, both of them taking after their dark-haired father) and a robust, curvy figure that just cried out for a man's embrace. Her depression had been sloughed off for the most part, and her face—with its bright green eyes, slim nose, Cupid's-bow lips, and high cheekbones—usually radiated cheer and good spirits.

But she had to admit that she was in no sense sexually fulfilled. Greg had been adequate in that department—no more. Now, occupying her solitary queen-size bed night after night, she found increasingly innovative ways to pleasure herself, sometimes lying naked and indulging in all manner of bizarre fantasies that caused her to giggle with embarrassment after her climax was over. She seemed to need this self-stimulation more and more, and she was grateful that the only man in the house—her son, Grant—was far away so that he wouldn't hear her moans and groans. She had no idea if Carrie, who occupied a bedroom across the hall on the second floor of the house, heard her; but she didn't much care about that.

So there she was, busily preparing a full breakfast—eggs, bacon, toast, roasted potatoes, and plenty of tea and coffee—for the five girls of the slumber party. As they shuffled into the dining room, she poked her head out of the kitchen and was struck by their appearance. They were all in their nightgowns, but their hair was tousled and they all looked as if they'd been through the ringer.

"Hey, you girls, what happened?" she exclaimed. "You look like you had a rough night."

"You might say that," Carrie said sarcastically.

"Not sleep well?" Jessica pursued.

"Not especially," Sandra said wearily.

"Well, let's hope a good breakfast restores you."

The girls were skeptical of that, but didn't have much time to think about it—for Grant now sauntered in, wearing nothing but gym shorts. Some of the girls thought they could detect a slight bulge in those shorts—and shuddered.

Jessica scowled at him disapprovingly. "Grant, put a shirt on! We have guests here."

"Too hot," he said dismissively, plunking himself down at the dining table and waiting to be served like some sort of pasha.

Jessica shook her head in despair and returned to the kitchen. Grant was getting more and more unruly with each passing day, and she was at her wits' end figuring out how to keep him in line.

As she served the breakfast to the assembled "guests," all the girls stared daggers at Grant. Jessica couldn't help noticing. For some reason his very presence seems to make them angry. What gives here?

Several of the girls only picked at their food, but Grant made up for it by exhibiting a robust appetite—and he even cleaned up the breakfasts that one or two girls left unfinished. For their part, they retreated to the (spurious) safety of the mother-in-law unit, showered and got dressed, and then got the hell out of the place.

Carrie suspected she wouldn't be having any more slumber parties in the near future.

[This is the first chapter of my novel, The Slumber Party. There's a lot more sex here!—KMB]