Traveling With Bryan - Ch. 5 - We Head Home From The Funeral - Sex Stories

Traveling With Bryan - Ch. 5 - We Head Home From The Funeral

... "Brenda, I will be going away to college in the fall. That is only five months away. When I am away at school, I will date, and I will probably experience sex with other girls. Until then, I want to belong to you, and only you, until I leave." I could see I was not going to dissuade my stepson from this. And honestly, I was very flattered that he wanted only me. After all, I was an older woman, not a young nubile teenager. Objectively speaking though, although at age twenty four, I still did look pretty damn good. "Okay. But I still want you to date, even if you do not have sex. And if you find someone you are really attracted to, I won't be mad or jealous if you do advance the relationship into a physical one." Then I thought about Jim. "Bryan, you also need to understand, and accept that I am a married woman. Your father and I will share a bed when he is home. You need to be comfortable with the fact that as his wife, he and I will be intimate. And you need to understand that he can never find out about us, ever." "Brenda, I understand that. I don't like it, but I can accept it. When he is home, he gets you to himself, and I don't get to be with you." "But honey, even when your dad is away on his job, we have to act like a stepmother and her stepson, not lovers. No one can ever suspect, even for a second that there is anything physical going on between us. And just because we are sharing a bed, does not change the other aspects of our relationship. You still have to obey ...

... me, and treat me with respect. Understand?" "Absolutely. In fact, now that I know you can cut me off if I don't clean my room, or do my homework, I'll be perfect." I smiled and said, "You better be. Else no treats for you. No bedtime stories." We had just driven into Oklahoma City. We were planning on turning north on towards Springfield and looking for a place to spend the night. We were a few miles from the junction with I-44, when Bryan asked another question that revealed the complexities we were imposing upon ourselves. "Brenda, I know when we are back in Chicago, at home, we will never be able to be 'on a date' when we are outside. I will always have to behave like you are my stepmother." "I am your stepmother, you little twit," I interrupted. "I know. You know what I mean. I will never be able to hold your hand in public, or kiss you in public. Or do any of the things I want to do with the woman who belongs to me." "I guess that is right. No one can ever see us doing any of that stuff." "Do you think we could go out on a date while we are traveling home?" I stared at my stepson with a confused look. "What do you mean?" "Well, could I take you out to dinner or dancing, or someplace and we pretend that you are my girlfriend? No one here knows who we are. No one knows you are my stepmom. I really want to have one date with you." Bryan's suggestion had a lot of appeal, but I saw some real problems as well. "Honey, I am twenty four years old, you are sixteen. I do not look ...