My Son's Girlfriend

“So Jimmy, it’s Parents Weekend,” I say, trying to sound normal. “What time do you want me where, tomorrow?” I must be succeeding in acting calm, because Jimmy seems not to have noticed my lust for Katie, even though it’s taking me all my self-restraint not to keep glancing over to this beauty on my right.

“Well, there’s this picnic in the morning, but it’s pretty dumb. I think the Dean will give a speech but other than that it’s just a live band and free food. So whatever, you don’t need to come to that.”

“Okay,” I say, glad that he’s letting me off the hook.

“But the lacrosse game is later that afternoon,” Jimmy continues. “And there will be a barbecue and stuff afterwards. It’d be great if you came to that.”

“Sure,” I say again, brows raised. “Looking forward to seeing you on the field.”

“Cool,” says Jimmy, now peering at the menu. I decide to do the same, but I can’t resist a glance at Katie. She’s looking at the menu too, but as if sensing my gaze, she looks up and our eyes lock. Electricity sparks between us then and I know she feels it too – her big, brown eyes are pulled magnetically to mine. She blinks, her thick, long lashes dusting her peach skin, as her full lips part slightly.

“I’m getting the risotto,” says Jimmy, breaking the magic without even knowing it. I clear my throat and look back at my menu. What’s wrong with me? Katie is so not my type, and yet I’m completely entranced by her. It’s something about her purity, her innocence, and the air of the untouched about her. She’s obviously very inexperienced, and yet also incredibly ripe, plush and fertile. The sexual energy just radiates off her. The way she looked at me spoke volumes.

Plus, this girl is clearly inexperienced but she wants it bad. Her body is ripe for cock, and she’s not getting it for whatever reason. What the hell is Jimmy up to? How is he not tapping this? Maybe she’s too womanly for him? The curves, the goddess-like energy about her – it can be intimating for lesser men. And even though I’ve never been with a woman so pure, I know I could rise to the occasion. I’d take her, own her, and satisfy her in ways that would have her begging for more.

I’m on autopilot for the rest of the meal. I don’t know what I’ve ordered, but it arrives, and I eat it like a robot, not even tasting the food. All my senses are caught, keenly attuned Katie on my right. I can smell her perfume, I can feel her warmth, and I’m so intent on her, I swear I can hear her heartbeat. Is it beating for me? Does she want me as much as I want her? Is she being tormented by this dinner as much as I am? Is her food like sawdust in her mouth, tasteless and bland? I don’t dare turn my head to look at her, for fear I may give it all away. But so far, it seems I’m doing a perfectly decent job of acting normal.

Jimmy is talking in detail about his lacrosse team. He’s caught up in a story of some kind of controversy or other, and Katie and I are nodding, pretending to listen, while calmly eating our food. At least I’m pretending to listen. She might actually be into it. But what if she’s just as distracted as me? As I’m wondering this, a large party passes our table, clearly all drunk and celebrating something or other. Two of the younger women are laughing and hugging, and then one of them trips and the two of them fall over, landing against our table. In the commotion that follows, I glance at Katie.

She’s bending down and picking up the drunk girl’s handbag and handing it back to her with a timid smile. As she looks over her shoulder, our eyes lock again, and there’s no mistaking it this time – she wants me. The way she swallows and quickly averts her brown eyes, shining with desire. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear, then lets that hand run down her neck to rest on the full swell of her huge tits. The way she forces her eyes towards her plate, biting her lip. But I can tell she’s not actually seeing the food. She’s thinking of something dangerously off-limits.

Fortunately, the commotion passes and the three of us are alone at our table again. “God!” laughs Jimmy. “They were so drunk. I think I recognized a few of them as freshmen.” But as he launches back into his lacrosse story, I’m overcome with a sudden urge to touch the female. Without thinking, my hand goes from where it was resting in my lap, slowly over to her leg, where I graze her thigh. Katie’s inhales sharply, those brown eyes wide as she turns towards me. But I don’t move. I leave my hand on her thigh under the table, and nod at my son’s story.