Aiden and The Ring
INtrinSicliValud
Aiden and the ring
By INtrinSicliValud
Copyright © 2021 INtrinSicliValud
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact: intrinsiclivalud100@yahoo.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Once he awakened, Aiden Wilson scrambled up the narrow stairs from the basement of his buddy Dan’s house, where he had crashed the night before. They were high school friends, and he often slept over at Dan’s parents’ house after returning to town for college; he split his time between the dorms and Dan’s home. As he stepped into the brightly lit kitchen, Aiden slipped his shirt over his broad, muscular shoulders.
“Good morning Mrs. Davis,” Aiden called out to the dark-haired, shapely woman sitting in her white terry-cloth robe at the table.
As usual, she was nursing a large mug of coffee and reading her tablet. Rain splattered against the window, and the fragrant woman raised an eyebrow as she glanced at him.
“Good morning Aiden. Are you really going out there?”
After tugging his shirt into place, Aiden grinned and nodded. Gina Davis was in her mid-forties and Dan’s stepmom. Though Dan kept taunting him by calling her his step-MILF, he was not wrong. Even though it was still early morning and she sat under harsh lighting, her dark wavy hair framed her high cheek boned, well-sculpted face. While his heart thumped, he turned to adjust his shorts at the slight swelling between his legs. Her thick robe did nothing to hide her curvaceous figure. By the time she changed into her fitted business outfits to leave for work, she would be a complete head-turner. If she noticed his quick move to conceal his boner, Mrs. Davis said nothing. But her eyes sparkled before returning to her tablet.
“Yeh. It’s not so bad,” Aiden said.
“It can get worse, you know.” The pretty brunette stifled a yawn before taking another sip of her coffee.
With a shrug, Aiden stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind him.
***
After Aiden left, Gina Davis leaned back in her chair, looked at the closed front door, and grinned. Aiden had turned out quite handsome, considering the skinny little boy he’d been. Her smile broadened. And his not so surreptitious glances and nervous motions around her were so cute.
“Still attractive to younger men,” she muttered before chuckling.
An early riser, Gina had a quick breakfast and prepared for her senior management job, which meant reading through the overnight reports while sipping her coffee. Whenever he stayed over, Aiden also woke early to run. They joked about calling themselves the ‘A-shift’ since her husband, Paul, now supervised the late shift and Dan was a late sleeper unless taking early classes. It was nice to have the brief morning company; Aiden, always polite, did his own thing. After a comforting sigh, her eyes dropped back to her tablet to read the reports.
***
Meanwhile, about a mile from the house, Aiden admitted Mrs. Davis was correct. With a sudden roar, sheets of dark gray rain slashed down. Brilliant, violent flashes of lightning illuminated him while ever-louder thunderclaps rocked him. Heading for a shorter way home, he dashed along a narrow path he never used. Splashes of cold water doused his calves as his running shoes blasted across the muddy puddles and soft muddy grit of the weed-choked trail.
After slipping on a flat stone, Aiden regained his balance just as a bolt of lightning traversed the black, cloud-choked sky. Something glinted up at him from the mud below a clump of battered wildflowers; a small, circular, brownish yellow metallic object. With a swift but awkward braking motion, Aiden slid to a halt and grasped the dirt-covered ring in his rain-drenched palm. The ornate jewelry was heavier than it appeared. Blasted from his reverie by a resounding thunderclap, he lurched forward to continue his homeward dash. To keep from losing the slippery and dense ring, he slipped it onto his finger.
Air flew from Aiden’s lungs.
As his feet blurred below his dropping head, he staggered, bouncing off a small tree, and stumbled to a halt in the middle of the small trail. While Aiden stood open-mouthed, rain continued to pound the brush and his shivering body. The world blurred and then ceased to move. He cried out and shook, not from the cold, when everything roared back into focus. But now it was technicolor and… And different. More. Sharper. Deeper detail than should be possible. Every single color was bright.
Even as he struggled with the vision changes, Aiden rotated his head; every sound was loud. His nose exploded with scents, from the aroma of wet dirt below his soaked running shoes, to the ozone from the lightning, as well as every nearby plant and animal.
All of it blasted into his mind. At once.
Just as that overwhelmed him, Aiden emitted a loud groan and twisted when the raking fingers of a hundred outstretched hands clawed across his skin. Time shuddered to a halt once more. All the nerve endings within his soaking body jangled. More than alive. Hyper-alive. Each sweep of those phantom digits blasted him with crackling electricity. The bolts went deeper. His soul jangled. Moaning to the sky and clawing at the sodden shorts on his thighs, Aiden’s body—tightened, hardening and stretching.
When his blurry eyes fluttered open, the darkness was no longer dark; details of—everything, as far as he could see, were there. Right there. As if he were next to everything in his field of view. Each massive, thundering rain drop reverberated in his ear like a drumbeat. Their impacts on everything around him smashed into his ears. Gasping for air, Aiden jerked with each painful slam of every cool, stinging splat on his skin. His nostrils flared with every odor, every single one. All of them. At once. Under it all, he crumpled, staggered and slid against a tree trunk, shaking.
Almost as soon as it had begun, the ferocity of the sensations diminished and Aiden’s world became, if no longer normal, his new normal. With a short exhale, heavy raindrops dripping over his blinking eyes, Aiden stumbled forward to restart his run. But it wasn’t the same. As his heart pounded, Aiden was not just running; he was now slamming the ground with his feet, beating it into submission to propel himself forward. The incredible vigor in his stride. With each pounding, mud-splashing step, the smile on his face widened. With the roaring of blood through his veins, his will, his newborn drive, intertwined with his enhanced physicality. Even as he staggered, getting used to the power in each step, Aiden shook his rain-soaked head, struggling to clear it of whatever had struck him. A close lightning strike? Something else? His gaze flicked to the droplet-covered circle of gold on his finger.
Whatever had happened, he pushed himself towards home. After his fingers, rain-slicked and shaking, fumbled with his key, Aiden got the front door open and flung it wide. With cold water sluicing from his frame, he dashed inside before too much sideways-driven rain blasted in with him. Once he slammed the door behind him, he huffed, wordless and wide-eyed in the foyer, dripping and still shaking his head while trying to blink icy droplets from his eyelashes.
At first, Mrs. Davis glanced at the doorway, but at the sight of the shaking young man in his soaked clothing, her face contorted. Eyes widening, her gaze followed the rainwater dripping from him onto the hardwood floor as cold chills sliced through his shaking body. His fingers were blue.
“Aiden! Get out of those wet clothes! I’ll get you a towel!” Mrs. Davis rushed to her feet and dashed into the laundry room.
So many scents. The brightly lit room hurt his eyes as they whipped around all the sharp, reflective corners, so sharp. Mrs. Davis wore her favorite French perfume. Coffee. His eyes flicked to her mug all the way across the room, but the coffee smelled like it was in his hand. As he squinted in the bright lights, Aiden shook the rainwater from his arms.
Clutching a towel, Mrs. Davis hurried into the kitchen, her shiny black hair flaring out behind her while dashing to his side. After slipping his soaked running shirt over his head, Aiden looked up just as she held the towel out to him. But his eyes widened, and hers became even wider when one foot lost traction on the rain-slick flooring and she lurched towards him. With a sharp yelp, Mrs. Davis’ outstretched hand slapped onto his bare, wet, shivering chest.
Time stopped. Every. Little. Thing. Warped. And then flashed back as Aiden’s heart hammered in his heaving chest. Every millimeter of Mrs. Davis’ soft, warm hand sent crackling arcs of blistering heat across his icy, wet flesh. The ring singed his finger, and he flung his gaze towards it, but he sucked in air as Mrs. Davis’ beautiful, deep brown eyes stopped him. Beautiful? Blazing and so very warm and inviting, they locked onto his own. Already thumping, his heart whizzed.
Unable to tear his eyes from her, Aiden groaned and jerked under her fingertips; Mrs. Davis’ heart—he could feel it. Inside her. As if it were his. How? While his own thumped, racing to match her fleeting pulse. Just as in the rainstorm, every part of her—became him. Every feeling racing from her clenching fingertips on his icy skin, every sensation, confused, aroused, scared, caring and—terrified. All of it flowed into Aiden as he gasped for air and trembled.
With a moan, Mrs. Davis flattened her palm against his chest. So much heat. So much everything poured from her as Aiden swayed under her single hand. Everything around them was blurry and colorful and—irrelevant.
God! He feels amazing! No! He’s your son’s best friend! Stop it!
As her thoughts flowed into him, her glistening lips parted, and, flushing crimson, Mrs. Davis quivered; her soft, super-heated clenching fingers caressing his chest. Air wouldn’t come as sensations, his and hers, overwhelmed him. Aiden’s brain struggled to separate them. While time seized, it couldn’t have been long, but each rain drop slipping from him took forever to thunder onto the floor.
To add to the madness, Aiden jerked when faint whispers in a strange tongue murmured. Though he couldn’t make out the words, he tore his eyes from Mrs. Davis and stared at the ring. The voices continued, but it was just a ring. As his heart sped, Aiden whirled around, but there was nobody in the room other than the conflicted, and now frightened, woman leaning against him with one trembling hand. Forgotten, the towel dangled in her other.
Time remained still. The murmuring continued while Aiden whipped his head around, licking his lips and shaking, no longer just from arousal or confusion, but fear as well. At last, after repeatedly looking around, Aiden gasped several times and clenched his fists. While his mind still grappled with Mrs. Davis’ clashing thoughts, the racing hot breath on his cooling wet chest, and the incredible burning in her loins, he—asked.
Who—who are you?
Aiden scanned the normal-looking room for…. Somebody? Something? But nothing or nobody answered, though the murmuring became a soft, rhythmic chant. Now clasping his hands, Aiden licked his lips and gazed around him once more. As the chant sped, his rod pulsed and swelled, reacting to it and Mrs. Davis’ caressing fingertips gliding along his bare, cool flesh.
When her fingers clenched once more, Aiden gave up searching and stared into Mrs. Davis’ deep brown eyes. Though trembling, her face contorted in confusion and fear, her still-widening eyes blazed up at him.
I can hear and feel everything she can.
At his thought, her eyes blazed and then became wild; something else had happened as well, beyond the ability to sense her thoughts. As moans slipped from her parted glistening lips, her shiny pink tongue skimmed across her trembling lower lip.
My pussy is so hot and wet; fuck, it’s fluttering like mad.
Air exploded from Aiden. Mrs. Davis’ eyes blinked as her mouth opened wider and a low growl slid from her. As he struggled for air, her thoughts glided into his mind.
I am so light-headed. Why! No, this is so wrong. God, Paul and I haven’t made love in such a long time! My husband! My husband! I am married. This is not right! What’s happening? My fingers and the toys are nothing compared to what Aiden has. Oh god, I can feel its pulse getting stronger. It’s getting longer. How can I feel that? Something’s definitely wrong! I want him so badly! No! No, I don’t!
Focus, Gina!
So many thoughts and images. Oh god, she wanted him. She didn’t want him. Confusion. Desire. Fear. Need. Something hungry.
Time started once more.
With a cry, Aiden shook, tore his eyes from her, ripped the towel from her hand, jerked from her outstretched hand, and dashed around the confused and aroused woman.
As Aiden stumbled towards the basement door, Mrs. Davis staggered forward with a gasp. Not looking back, Aiden flew downstairs, slamming the door closed behind him. Only then did he totter, huffing as if he’d just completed another long run, into the shower. Under the warm spray, Aiden crumpled to the floor, shuddering. What had he just heard? Sensed? Thought? The glittering gold ring pulsated on his finger.
Have I gone fucking mad? Am I still going insane?
Had lightning struck him? None of this made any sense. Not the least, was the crazy whispering in his head. And he had heard voices. Plural. The creature. God? Thing? It had projected both a female and male voice into his mind when he had first worn the ring. At the same time.
Either way, Aiden, shaking as chills wracked his body and the echoing thoughts and sensations blasted through his mind, huddled downstairs until Mrs. Davis’ heels clacked overhead. When, in a plaintive, concerned voice, she called out; he stared at the closed door. Heart hammering; he was torn between hoping she would open it and hoping she would leave him be, so he could—do something. What could he do?
Only after the clacking of her heels disappeared, Mrs. Davis having left for work, did Aiden creep back to the kitchen. After a quick breakfast, still scanning the room for the source of the now silent voices, Aiden tugged the ring from his finger to stare at it under the bright kitchen lights. Unfamiliar symbols were engraved within the band. The gleaming, untarnished golden ring was decorated with interleaved ropes and bands. As it shimmered under the sharp kitchen lighting, it offered no discernible clues as to its origin.
***
As soon as Gina clambered into her car, ready to leave for work, Aiden’s heart slowed and his fear diminished. While staring into her eyes in the mirror, she shook. How could she know that? She didn’t want to be feared. He also…
“Oh,” she moaned as her legs ground together.
He wanted her.
After a long exhale, Gina swallowed and looked into her face, reddening under her makeup. How could she sense such things so strongly? Both earlier, in the kitchen, and now, sitting in the garage. He should have calmed by now, but… But he wasn’t.
As she ran her fingertips through her hair, moving a loose strand from her cheek, Gina blinked and pursed her red lips; the fresh lipstick shined in the car’s interior light. Aiden wanted—her. And she…
With another swallow, Gina glanced at her trembling fingers, tapping on the wheel. No. No. it wasn’t right. Gina loved Paul, because she should—he was her husband.
And Gina was his wife.
Simple. Straightforward. What had happened this morning was unacceptable. But Aiden’s pull on her remained steady. Now white-knuckled, her hands crushed the leather-wrapped steering wheel. After a soft moan as shivers raced along her spine, Gina flicked her gaze to the hand that had settled onto the bare, hard yet soft, warm yet icy, pulsing and so very much alive flesh of her son’s best friend.
It was wrong. So alive. She shouldn’t feel this way about anyone but her husband. So hard. And yet… So warm.
As her eyes went wide in the mirror, Gina’s entire body flared with heat and shuddered. Aiden’s heart raced and his smooth, powerful body glided once more under her fingers. Biting back a cry, warmth flashed through Gina. As she gritted her teeth, Gina scrunched her eyebrows, ground her palms into the wheel, and tried to move her focus to her love, her husband, and her work. Anything but Aiden’s icy skin, so silky smooth, warming under her fingertips and flattened palm. So alive.
“I love my husband. I love my husband…” Gina repeated the mantra all the way to work, seeking to drive Aiden from her mind.
It didn’t work.
And once Gina arrived at the office, it was an endless day. All morning she squirmed until she could slip into the ladies’ room at lunch. Crumpled in the furthest stall, she flung herself down and drove her fingers deep inside, rubbing, pressing, scraping and humping her hand with increasing desperation, hoping to get some relief. But no matter how quick or how deep she stroked or how roughly Gina worked herself, she could not climax.
“What the hell?” Gina groaned through gritted teeth, staring at her bright red reflection in the mirrored metal door of the shuddering stall.
It was an awkward setting, but she’d done this before. A lot. Whenever they made love in the morning; Paul always came too early. Still aroused, Gina would have to drag herself into work and… Quivering, her damp fingers still buried inside her, she stared at the steel door while shuddering against the cold stall. But this time, no matter what, she couldn’t fire. After washing up, Gina staggered, beyond frustrated, back to her desk. After looking to ensure her coworkers were not staring at her, Gina, still flushed and out of breath, gulped her water.
Ever more unsatisfied, Gina spent the afternoon trying to forget the pulsing. The thumping sound had arrived and grew stronger with every hour; it was Aiden’s cock. Harder, needing… Needing what she also needed, relief. The sound, the feel, the hunger all echoed in her mind. Aiden was thinking about her. As soon as she got home, Gina was going to tell him off. This was not right! It was unacceptable!
The tiniest moan squeaked from her as she squirmed once more on her desk chair. Eyes flicking to the clock, Gina swallowed and clenched her hand so tight, she popped the cap off her water bottle, spraying the desktop with water. The thumping.
“I love my husband. I love my husband…” she murmured, gritting her teeth and trying to type.
So warm.
So hard.
***
Back at the Davis house, Aiden sat with his buddy, playing, or attempting to, while his mind reeled from the desire, the longing, and hunger within Dan’s stepmother. He had said nothing. Yet she had tried to… To take care of herself. Frustration. Need. Desire. Fear. Love—maybe not love. Not for him. For Paul, Dan’s father. Every thought and feeling swirling within her also flashed around inside him.
“Dude, why are you so quiet? Also, you suck. You just missed everything on that level,” Dan said, tossing his hands with the controller into his lap as the game restarted them once more.
“Not feeling so good, man.”
While the lie came easily, it wasn’t entirely untrue. Aiden’s mind was aflame with the residual flares from the morning and the constant sensory feed from Dan’s stepmom. Neither slowed as the afternoon wore on and, after lunch, as they killed more creatures in their game, Aiden’s arousal increased and Mrs. Davis—hungered.
When, face flushed and gritting her teeth, Mrs. Davis returned from work, her heels clicked as she dashed inside. After stomping into the room where they were playing, she shot Aiden a fierce gaze and clenched her fists. As he swallowed, Aiden’s chest tightened and stared up at her. The world blurred. Down in the basement, the ring sang; voices murmured. Aiden shook his head. Like a deflating balloon, Mrs. Davis’ entire frame slackened, blood drained from her face and her fingers tapped along her silk-clad thighs. With a last flash of her gleaming brown eyes, Mrs. Davis murmured something, turned on her heel, and flew upstairs.
As Dan, irritated, reloaded the same level again, Aiden struggled to concentrate, his mind awash with the uninterrupted, jumbled flow from the grumbling boy’s stepmom. While her footsteps thumped overhead, Aiden stared at the colorful game, but… Anger fleeing. Hunger growing. Her heart raced as his rushed to catch up. A mantra. Had she heard the voices as well? No. something about her husband—that she did not believe.
None of it abated when Mrs. Davis returned downstairs to prepare dinner. As she mumbled to herself, Aiden caught furtive, hungry glances from her. She now wore bulky sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Without even thinking, Aiden flashed her a smile, and she jerked back. Though she had changed to conceal herself, he had already seen in his mind and remembered every minute detail. The glistening. The smoothness—so silky smooth. The searing heat of her—everything.
Dinner was long for both of them as Dan chatted about his day, moaned about Aiden’s shitty gameplay, and made more noises that sounded like words. But blood rushed around inside Aiden’s head as both their hearts raced whenever Mrs. Davis got near him. Her eyes, both hungry and apprehensive, glanced at him as they ate. And the latter gave him pause; he kept Dan close to distract him and prevent her from….
But, ring or no ring, Aiden’s heart continued to race in time with hers as both her desire and fear washed over him. While Dan droned on, the gleam in her eyes sharpened. With a jerk, Aiden swallowed; she could perceive his nervousness and his desire.
Once dinner was done, Aiden begged off another game session, dashed into the basement, ensuring the door was locked behind him before crumpling onto his bed. Waves of her desire slid over him. Then her anger. Then her fear. Then more of her hunger. Each successive wave building, swirling and slipping through every attempt he made to distract himself. No book. No television show. No video. Nothing could keep her warmth, her eyes, and her very soul from wrapping around him.
During the evening, soft footsteps approached and faded from the door several times—he was doing the same to her.
The next morning, exhausted after a fitful sleep, Aiden raced past Mrs. Davis, only catching her surprised “good morning” before dashing outside to run. As he loped farther from the house, he continued to reel with her thoughts. Her anger, but only at missing him before he dashed away. Not from what had happened the morning before. As he sped up, Aiden shrugged. As much as part of her, a diminishing part of her, wanted him to leave her alone, she struggled with her own desire. The voices again. Not the ring’s, but about her sleeping husband. It was fuzzy in his mind, weak within hers—something she didn’t believe.
The run did nothing at all to clear his thoughts. In fact, one glance at the field where he had found the ring almost sent him spinning to the ground. After shoving open the door, Aiden stumbled back inside. After shooting Mrs. Davis a quick glance, he dropped his head and rushed past the silent woman before zipping back into his cave. Once he took his shower, another icy one, Aiden silent, his chest taut, huddled downstairs until her heels once again faded from the house.
After she left, he went to the shelf and peeled open a small red felt cloth he had found in the basement. As it gleamed up at him, he peered at the ring, rolling it around in the cloth, once more trying to decipher the runes. Did they sparkle? Glow? Voices never came as, both taunting and tantalizing him, the golden circle gleamed far brighter than it should under the dim light. Shivers slid over his spine; Mrs. Davis’ hand glided down his chest. He didn’t need voices. Heat flared. Not just within him.
Though he shouldn’t, Aiden wanted her. And though Mrs. Davis shouldn’t, she also wanted him. As her heart sped, his raced.
***
Once seated behind her desk in her office, Gina let out a deep breath as the cityscape came to life beyond the plate-glass windows. While blessed with good genes, Gina also worked her ass off to maintain her looks. Over the years, she became accustomed to being the center of men’s attention. But not like this. Not like Aiden. All the others, male and some female coworkers, as well as a few at the gym, flirted with her. Each time she shrugged them off with a laugh and a demure smile, stating how happily married she was. Her eyes blinked back at her from the glass; even though she wasn’t happily married at all. But this. This was different. This was fire. This was roaring fucking fire. And it, and she, was burning brighter the longer Gina was away from Aiden.
And the worst thing was they were apart…
Wait. That isn’t the worst thing, is it? Isn’t his staying away from me what I want?
Even as her brows furled and her nails clicked on the desktop, she clenched her thighs—tight. It was wrong. Everything she felt for Aiden was wrong. Nothing good would come from this. Nothing at all.
Luckily, or unluckily, Aiden not only did not approach her, he actively avoided her the entire week. But as her desire, and his, grew, Gina gave up trying to pleasure herself. Each day was grueling, each long night full of tossing and turning. Nocturnal rubbing did nothing. Paul was useless—even more useless than normal.
Several times, Gina sought Aiden out to tell him how it was wrong, but she couldn’t. At the beginning of the week, every single time she tried, one glance from him shut down her attempt. As the week dragged and despite her cravings intensifying, whenever she turned to him, she staggered to a halt. No longer having to even look her way, Gina could not approach him. Each time as she stumbled away to distract herself, which never worked, she reeled; there was nothing she could do. Unsurprisingly, her mantra about how much she still loved Paul, which was bullshit, had no effect.
Even as Gina should stay away from him. And Gina should tell him to get out of her house, but…
But.
Now there was always this “but Gina” about Aiden. Whether or not she loved her husband, this was a physical… No, a metaphysical attraction. The last time anything remotely like this happened, and it paled in comparison…. Back then, she had pinned the poor kid to the bed in his dorm room and humped him senseless. But that was in college, decades ago. Now Gina was happily married. Well, married at least.
One night, as they all left the dinner table, Aiden glanced at her. When his eyes narrowed, her heart raced. He reddened and his fists clenched tight. Her nails skittered along the kitchen counter. He was the only one who could do anything; he must do something. He must.
In the morning, as Gina walked past the locked basement door, she gasped for air. Aiden was so close. He was down there now, watching, listening. Even as part of her faltered to restrain her, she wanted to yank on the handle and cry out to him. But she swallowed, turned away, drove to work and staggered into her office once more.
He had to do something. Soon. And then her life would go back to before, but… There it was again, the “but Gina” in her mind.
What if he doesn’t leave me alone? What if he touches me again? What could or would he do?
No matter, Aiden was the one who must do it, whatever “it” was. She could not. Gritting her teeth as she squeezed her thighs so tight her feet shook; it made no sense.
After leaving for the day, so maddeningly frustrated she had decided to try one last desperate measure, the lithe, olive-skinned beauty leaned back in her car. While Gina hadn’t done this for a while, she needed to try something. Having spread her legs as wide as they would go in the driver’s seat, she turned up the power on the phone app. As the hum roared to life inside her panties, already soaked from another day of—of nothing, she sighed with anticipation.
Since Paul’s crazy work schedule made sex problematical at best, and with Dan and Aiden around the house, her “me” time had become nonexistent. So, Gina had bought the little pleasure device a year ago. Since then, whenever she needed it, after work she would stop by this remote section of the park on the far side of its wide central lake. Once she locked her doors, she would lean back behind the tinted windows and scream her little heart out. Each time, Gina would clean herself and the seat and be home in time for dinner.
So now, while staring out at the wide park, Gina licked her lips and swallowed as the warming silicon vibrated, gliding its ridges into her. And it wasn’t long before her breathing quickened and her writhing frame squeaked against the leather, riding the ever mounting waves of pleasure.
But, once again, no matter how high Gina turned it, and she maxed it for the first time, the shaking vibrator could not drive her over the edge. Oh, she got damned close, but every time, just as she braced for relief, something fizzled and her body—ceased. Even as tears poured from her blinking eyes, it just fucking froze, leaving her shaking with frustration. After roaring at the roof of the car, she flung her phone onto the passenger floor mat, huffed and gulped water before gathering enough energy to leave.
Shaking after the attempt, the tickles of tears still trickling down her cheeks, Gina sat in the squeaking leather seat with clenched teeth for a long time. Even as the sun set, still she struggled to slow her heart and calm her frazzled nerves—every single one of them. Out of any other ideas; howling, she shoved her hands into her top, ripped her bra upwards around her neck, and twisted her own nipples in a vain attempt to get some relief. At that point, Gina wouldn’t have cared if a fucking marching band wandered past her car; her blouse wide open and her own fingers mauling herself. Although hyper-aroused, her own hands didn’t work either. Crumpling forward onto the wheel, Gina cried out in frustration, then just cried, before exhaling, straightening her clothes and heading home.
When she stepped into the kitchen, to make matters even worse, Aiden looked up as her heels clacked across the floor. Heat flared into her cheeks and ear tips; the top two buttons of her blouse were still undone. With a sudden intake of air, Gina paused and stared at Aiden; his eyes were wide and his face was also crimson.
Aiden knew what she had been doing! Had been desperately trying to do for a whole fucking hour! After the heat roared across her body, she ripped her gaze from his and dashed upstairs to remove and clean the little vibrator. Disgusted and frustrated beyond measure, she sighed and tossed it into the back of her toy drawer, where she gave the others a quick survey. None of them would work any better.
Resigned to her fate, which was a novel experience for her, Gina let out a long breath, changed into loose shorts and a looser, long t-shirt before laying on her bed. As much as Gina wanted to finger herself again, it was futile. Aiden had done something to her. Clenching her fists, her chest tightened as she trembled; frustration mixed with a flare of anger. How could he do this to her? Why? Did it matter? Gina would have to wait. For him. Not Paul.
“I love my husband. I love my husband…” she once again muttered, sweeping her hand down and grinding her palm into her crotch. In response, the little nub blazed, rock hard beneath her panties and shorts.
“I love my husband. I love my husband…”
Nothing happened. Nothing at all.
The ethereal image of Aiden’s smile appeared as her head rolled atop her splayed out hair.
“Fuck!”
After a long weekend at the dorms, it took another entire week before Aiden picked up the ring once more in the basement. As he gazed at it, listening to Mrs. Davis move around upstairs, he exhaled. As her… As her everything flowed into him, he sighed once more. While he had sort of gotten used to it, she had not. The confused, frustrated and now angry woman’s desire mounted daily—hourly.
But Mrs. Davis was his best friend’s mom. While she was hot, she both feared and wanted him. And it just wasn’t right. It wasn’t her fault, but now she was bound to him by this stupid ring. It glinted up at him, voiceless, gleaming. Pulsing?
As he clenched his jaw, Aiden nodded. While he could toss the ring, somebody else would find it. If he were ever to test its full capability on somebody, Mrs. Davis was the safest one. And it would be a direct approach. If she reacted poorly… Well, at least only they would know about this horrible experiment until she told Paul. And then Aiden would move to the dorms full time. After wrapping it once more, he waited until Mrs. Davis left and walked upstairs.
Tomorrow. Direct. One shot.
So, the next day, Aiden stumbled from bed and only glanced at his running gear, before washing, slipping the ring on his finger and heading to the stairs, still in loose pajama shorts. While the whispers he expected to appear did not materialize, he sensed or imagined the ring waiting. Skin tingling, his chest tightened when he placed his bare foot on the first step.
After nodding and licking his lips, he blinked several times to clear his sleepy eyes and climbed upwards. At the sound of the stairs creaking under his footfalls, a small gasp escaped his best friend’s stepmother. As soon as he opened the door to step into the bright lights, Mrs. Davis lowered her coffee mug; she had already been staring at the open door, waiting for him.
When he walked closer, her motionless body trembled, and she lowered her shaking mug to the table. Eyes widening, the tremors became shakes and her nails tapped on the wooden surface. While sighing under his breath, Aiden strolled closer, leaving the basement door open behind him. A fast exit.
“Good morning, Mrs. Davis,” he called out in his normal chippy morning tone, but his voice cracked on her name.
She jerked at the sound of his greeting. Was he really about to do this? It had been a week since Aiden last greeted her. As her eyes tracked him, he sauntered past her and poured himself a glass of juice; his hands quivered. After swallowing, he walked back and sat next to her.
Nails beating on the wood, Mrs. Davis’ dark, warm, brown eyes widened further and whipped to his pajamas, not his running shorts, as one of her eyebrows raised. While gulping his juice, Aiden’s chest thumped as he waited, before setting the empty glass on the table.
“Aiden.” Mrs. Davis’ dark orbs gleamed as they locked onto his. “This is wrong. Whatever this is, it’s not right at all. You’re… I mean I’m married and…”
“Show me your breasts.”
“No! That’s absolutely not going to happen!”
Her flushed face drained and her clenched jaw dropped when she glanced at her firm globes and their sharp nipples, now bared under the kitchen lights. Still clutching the terry cloth material, her dainty hands had pulled her robe apart. When her eyes flicked back to his, she emitted a low groan as her gleaming skin darkened, but this time not in anger, and her lips parted further. His heart raced at the glimpse of her tongue flicking inside her glistening mouth.
“They are just as beautiful as I imagined, Mrs. Davis,” Aiden said in a hoarse, low voice.
Mrs. Davis’ gaze snapped to Aiden’s outstretched fingers, approaching her bare breasts.
“Oh!” Head tilting back, her eyes blinked when his fingertips found her rubbery, hot nipple. “No! Aiden! Stop!”
With matching groans, Aiden and Mrs. Davis fused. Not just the physicality of the burning hot rubbery nipple stem sliding between his fingers, but also her body flaring with heat. Synched together, the intense fluttering in her loins matched the pumping of blood into his. Unmoving but for the shaking of her glistening frame, Mrs. Davis clenched her teeth and gazed deep into his eyes.
“No,” she hissed, before sucking on her lips and swallowing.
When he gently scraped the underside of the thick, hot red stem with his fingernail, her eyes flared.
“Oh!” Panting, Mrs. Davis arched her back, thrusting her breast into Aiden’s hand.
“You are so beautiful, Mrs. Davis.” Between his thumb and forefinger, Aiden rolled the large, long nub and flicked his gaze from it to her wide watery eyes.
Still silent, Mrs. Davis just nodded and flicked her tongue over her shining lips when he tugged on the entrapped flesh. Eyes blazing with both fear and arousal, her crumbling resolve clashed with intensifying physical feelings. Aiden’s matching groan drove him forward—he needed to know. The ring needed to know. The throbbing flesh burning between his fingers and those deep, dark, gleaming eyes—they needed to know.
“Open your robe all the way, Mrs. Davis.”
Even as Aiden’s eyes widened and his breathing raced, Mrs. Davis’ confusion, fear and hunger raced through him. White-rimmed, her eyes stared at her hands, pulling apart the terry cloth, letting both sides of her robe drop away along her shapely, quivering hips. After her eyes flicked from her black lace panties to him, he settled his fingers onto her stomach; her silky skin so warm, taut over her well-toned muscles heaving under his fingertips.
“Oh, No, Aiden. Please! This is wrong! You can’t…. Oh…” Mrs. Davis’ voice trailed off as soon as his nails scraped across the black flowered pattern of her lace panties, taut over her curling mound.
When Aiden felt the hard, heated bump beneath his fingertips, Mrs. Davis’ body tightened and she locked her gaze on him; intense need and equally intense fear struggled within her. When her eyes suddenly narrowed and her brow raised, a gasp flew from Aiden; she could see his thoughts. Though panting and licking her lips, confused, she watched him toy with her. Confusion was winning over fear. Aiden meant her no harm—and never would.
“I love my husband. I love my husband…” Despite the muttered chant, her inner, much hungrier, voices murmured inside Aiden. As her body ached, flaring with need—a long buried yearning now burned within every fiber of the squirming woman. Yet, still unmistakable reticence and fear of what he was and… How could he make her do anything he wanted? Or she wanted? As one, they both gasped; her eyes blinked as her chest heaved. Both hearts pounded in unison. Aiden growled as fear ripped through her; she was….
“No! Not that Aiden! Please! I’m your best friend’s mom. Think of Dan!”
“Stepmom.”
With a knowing tight grin, Aiden stroked the swollen little nub through her panties while rolling and pulling on her hot, thick nipple stem. Emitting long, low hungry groans, Mrs. Davis writhed and sucked on her lips, brown eyes fluttering but still locked on him. Fingers buried deep in its thick material, her hands clawed at her robe, holding it open for him. A maelstrom of need, pure lust, fear, reluctance, and the disintegrating strands of her false love for her husband whirled within her.
After listening to her confused dialog in his head, Aiden gasped. Nodding as he exhaled; she was right.
This was wrong.
With a grunt, Aiden pulled his hands away, leaving her exposed and heaving under the kitchen lights.
This was stupid.
He was wrong; it would be better to test the ring on somebody less close, less familiar. As he sucked in air, Aiden’s fingers clawed at the table. When Mrs. Davis flicked her dark, inscrutable eyes to the prominent bulge in his shorts, she gasped and licked her lips. After shooting her a thin smile, he stood; another side effect of the ring was the enhancing of his anatomy.
Even standing, the heat billowing from Mrs. Davis enveloped Aiden and, trembling, he staggered from her. Clenching his fists and letting out another long breath, he began his own mantra.
She is right. This is wrong. The ring is wrong.
The ring in the rain-driven mud; this was why someone had discarded the ring. This would not work; Aiden liked Mrs. Davis. And she was always nice to him. Even though he had shown up and crashed in their basement. As he sighed, he stepped further from her, averting his eyes from the writhing body of the olive-skinned beauty.
As he shook, Aiden jerked his gaze back to her. Relief, but disappointment. Hunger. Something old, a burning ember. How could he still sense her? With her hands still clamped on her dangling robe, Mrs. Davis’ eyes widened; their thoughts were linked. A whimper slid from her parted lips, fear gone, replaced with a wave of intense hunger and desperation. Confusion. As another moan escaped her lips, Mrs. Davis trembled, skin flushing even as her heartbeat raced.
While the rhythmic beating of her pulse battered him, Aiden raised his hand to his own chest; the loud thumping inside… With a growl, Mrs. Davis’ hands shook. Fear whooshed back into her, the loss of control, years before Aiden… The memory—that memory. Loss of control. As a gasp flew from Aiden at the barest hint of her memory, Mrs. Davis bit her lower lip, eyes both terrified and so very hungry. Part of her needed him, but she also wanted to cover herself and flee, and couldn’t. As she sat there, motionless, bared to Aiden, Mrs. Davis tottered on the edge of…. Something….
“I love my husband. I love my husband…” Mrs. Davis repeated under her breath.
But, Aiden nodded, he owed her. With two quick steps he was at her side, glided his hand over her roiling, hot, sleek stomach and drove his fingers under the waistband of her panties. Huffing, the fear within Mrs. Davis blew apart as she thrust her pelvis into his palm. As he gazed deep into her widening eyes, his fingertips plowed through the thin patch of fur and curved downwards along her fleshy hood to find her hard, burning clitoris.
As soon as he slid his index finger and his thumb beside her core, Mrs. Davis’ eyes locked on him, mouth open in a silent scream. Time stopped as he paused. Need, pure physical need, had annihilated any last bubbles of fear within her, and Mrs. Davis’ eyes were rimmed in white. All reticence gone; she now shook with anticipation.
Though buried in her sleek warm lace, his palm rubbing on her soft downy fur, Aiden trembled, letting her arching pelvis shove his hand upwards. Should he? Was this really her? Or was the ring… Was it… Had it changed her?
With an intensity he had never heard before, a desperate whisper slid from her parted, shining lips. “Please…”
After a quick exhale, Aiden clamped his thumb and finger together. As she screamed into her fist, Mrs. Davis contracted around his arm, before shuddering and twisting in her seat. While he stroked the little nub, she rotated around his motionless forearm. Writhing, she cried out again and again while waves of warm moisture flowed beneath his fingertips. When she could do no more than whimper, her fist dripping with drool, Aiden lifted his glistening fingers.
With one last whimper, Mrs. Davis crumpled across her arms on the tabletop.
Without a word, Aiden left her and headed downstairs to get ready for class. Was that right? What he had done? What she hadn’t wanted… And then wanted? Needed? Her need? His need? His need… Fuck, he was so hard. With a huff, he leaped into the freezing shower and cried out while the pounding icy water slammed into his swollen mast. His need; that hadn’t been about him. It had started with him needing to know, but he had discovered something else. Her need.
***
Once Aiden left her in the kitchen, under the lights, robe wide open and draping the sides of the chair, Gina sobbed as the chilly air swept over her bare skin. At the ends of her dangling arms, her long fingers twitched, clicking their nails as she shook. It was so wrong what he had done to her. It was—sexual assault. His fingers, they… They had raped her, ignoring her fear and just…
What? Oh God, no, he could have really raped me right then.
And his cock was so full and huge. But had he told her, she would have let him take her right there, in the kitchen. She shook with…. Fear?
Thoughts whirled inside her. Would it be rape if she wanted him? Gina didn’t know anymore. About anything. She’d said “no” but they both knew that was a lie. At his words, she had submitted—no crumpled into his control. Well, at least part of her had. But some small piece of her kept arguing… Why had she obeyed? A tremor raced through her.
I want him.
She needed him to leave. Now! Before he…. Before something else happened.
With a growl, she eased herself to her feet, re-tied her robe, clenched her jaw, and balled her fists before marching towards the basement door. Aiden must leave. Now!
This isn’t right.
What he had done was not right at all!
He should not…. Again.
To me.
Like that.
Oh, but he would. As she chewed her lips, something else deep within her unfurled and stretched its crackling tendrils through her. As she quivered, mind split evenly—classic fight or flight. With a gasp, she bumped her forehead into the door; he sensed her approach. It took several attempts to clasp the handle in her shaking fingers before she clamped the cold steel. But just as she was going to yank it open, electricity blasted through her. Gasping, she collapsed against the closed door.
Somehow…
Flashes in her mind, images of the door from the other side; Aiden shook as he stared up the stairs, at the shadows of her feet under the door. The door thumped behind her, shaking while flares of heat flashed from between her legs to roam ever upwards and down her extremities. Hunger. Need. Fear. Love. Lust. All of those swirled inside her.
Soft warm trickles descended her inner thighs.
“I love my husband. I love my husband…” As she chanted under her breath, Gina gritted her teeth and braced herself, exhaling as she spun to face the door once more. White-knuckled, her fist crushed the handle. Knees trembling, she staggered as the room spun. Every muscle tensed; she jerked, bumping headfirst against the solid wood.
Oh god! Aiden had just come; he had jerked himself off. To stop her from taking him. To stop him from taking her. Her heart slammed into her chest as… As Aiden wasted…
Oh, God help me! He is wasting his seed! I want… Oh, I don’t know what I want.
With a groan, she shoved herself away, eyes blurry with tears and body aching.
More tickling rivulets descended her shaking legs.
***
Once again, Aiden had huddled below until Mrs. Davis had gone to work. Once she left, he dashed off to class and spent the entire day trying to ignore the raging whirlpools of conflicting emotions within her and himself. Later that evening, over a quiet dinner, the conflict raged within Mrs. Davis, but her glinting eyes, after another day of unfulfilled need, now reflected her hope. Her hope that he would leave.
And that things would return to normal.
Whenever he gave her a furtive glance, she was looking at him. It was impossible to shake her. Neither could she hide from him. It was maddening. Mrs. Davis wanted him gone. He couldn’t blame her, but he wanted her. And every time their eyes locked, she knew it. And he knew she needed him as well. Even after they finished, Aiden sensed her gazing at him while he watched TV with Dan. At last, he spat out a hurried “good night” while Mrs. Davis was out of sight. In mid-sentence, Dan just stared at Aiden as he dashed downstairs.
The next morning, Aiden sighed as he rolled from bed. Mrs. Davis was already upstairs; a calm serenity coated the unusually slow swirling of her emotions. Nonetheless, Aiden flew past her, foregoing his usual greeting, redundant since they already knew each other was awake, and zipped through the door to run. Mile after cold, dark mile pounded away under his shoes before he blasted around the last curve and raced home. This was the final all-out push. Not the run, but what he intended to do when he returned.
No longer surprised, while his breathing was heavier than usual and his heartbeat was elevated, he was neither tired nor achy—anymore. Arriving later than other days, Mrs. Davis was just about to stand when he pushed through the door. One last test. He had to know. She had to know. The fucking still ring had to know.
The night before, Aiden had packed his stuff and was ready to move out in case this one last plan failed. All day yesterday, whenever Mrs. Davis was distracted, he had mulled over his options. They hadn’t changed. While he had pushed yesterday, and… And she was scared, but also not. The hunger intrigued him. Something deep inside her wanted out. As the night had progressed, Aiden hardened his resolve.
So, now once more under the harsh kitchen lighting, Aiden sucked in air, not because of the run, but to brace himself. Eyes widening, Mrs. Davis jerked her head upright, sensing his thoughts. As he strode closer, she sucked on her lips and trembled. When Aiden slipped his soaking shirt over his sweaty, heaving chest, her tongue flicked out. But she remained seated. She did not run. She did not scream. Instead, a blast of warm air blazed over him when his damp cotton shorts slipped down his trembling legs.
“No! Aiden! That’s not…” Her eyes were unblinking as she stared at his cock. “You shouldn’t! Put those back on…”
Instead of fleeing, a long, hungry moan slid from Mrs. Davis when he wrapped his fingers around her quivering wrists, lifted her limp hands and settled her smooth, warm fingers onto his sweat-slick rod. She did not struggle. She still did not run. Instead, her breathing raced as her chest heaved under her robe. While there was fear, there was something more powerful inside her—much more powerful.
Aiden’s heart drummed in his chest as Mrs. Davis licked her lips. Even as her fingers slid over his flesh, sending electrical jolts through his body, her wide eyes flicked between his calm face and his shaft now being caressed by her long, hot fingers. His hands fell away.
But hers did not.
“This is wrong, Aiden—so wrong.” While she spoke in a trance-like monotone, her eyes remained locked on his and her fingertips continued to trace his bulging ridges and slide over his swelling flesh.
“It doesn’t feel wrong to me, Mrs. Aiden.” Aiden smiled at her. “At all.”
At his soft words, Mrs. Davis’ wide eyes blinked several times, confusion struggling inside her while she ran both warm, silken clenching fists along his filling shaft. At the very slow descent towards the floor of a translucent globule, another furnace like breath blasted his shaft. A groan flew from Aiden, when, with a quick low moan and another exhale that sent shivers through his core, she tilted her head and flicked her shiny pink tongue out to snatch the sticky trail.
As he shuddered, she rolled the errant strand around her tongue before raising her mouth. As soon as the next fiery breath blew across his aching bulb, her little tongue tugged the trail free of his slit. Tremors raced through him, and Aiden emitted a primal moan. The shining strand slapped against her chin before she sucked it inside and sealed her glistening lips.
No, she had not run at all. Nor screamed. Her thoughts of rape had vanished. Their eyes met.
Trembling, Aiden gazed at Mrs. Davis, motionless, in a blissful trance while she swirled his pre-cum around her mouth. Still stuck to her chin, the little silvery trail glinted in the lights.
So close to his rod. Her eyes flicked to it, then to him. Then back to it. So close. Another puff of super-heated air burst from her. But then her eyelids flew open to stare cross-eyed at the shining purple knob, at her stroking fingers, and into Aiden’s enthralled face. With a muffled cry, Mrs. Davis whipped her head from side to side, swishing her wavy dark hair back and forth. With a cry, she yanked her hands from him and flew backward in her chair.
“No! No! This is wrong Aiden!” Mrs. Davis flushed bright crimson as she trembled. After tearing her eyes from his painfully swollen shaft, she gazed into his eyes. “I can’t… It’s not right! Put that away, right now, young man!”
Fear had bubbled through. Even as Mrs. Davis’ heart raced in time with his and the aroma of her sweet nectar wafted around him, Aiden sighed and stepped back. With a quick nod, he tugged up his shorts. It wasn’t enough. His plan had failed. Now he knew. She knew. And the fucking ring knew. This was wrong. After forcing herself to avert her eyes, she kept them fixed on her shaking hands as she wiped them with her napkin.
“Okay, Mrs. Davis. Sorry.” Aiden mumbled before fleeing down the stairs.
He knew. It was time to go.
***
No sooner had the basement door slammed shut than a forlorn groan ripped from Gina’s panting lips. With a grunt, she crumpled on to her crossed arms and gasped for air. Her mind was a swirl of fear, desire, and—hunger. Such an amazingly beautiful, and massive, cock; the echoes of its silky smooth, ridged mass beating like a drum under her fingers sent tremors of—not fear through her.