Clementina, Chapter I – Penetration - Sex Stories

Clementina, Chapter I – Penetration

... to keep her happy” grated on me. Did that include fucking Clementina? I recalled the phone conversation – or the fake phone conversation, I wasn’t sure which – that I had overheard. I decided to bite the bullet.

“Did Clementina call you?” I asked.

“Yes, she called me to ask if she could stay here tonight.”

“No, before that.”

“You mean when she called to ask for your help earlier in the evening?”

“No, between the two calls, did she call you any other time tonight?”

“No, why? What if she did? She’s my friend, she’s allowed to call me anytime she wants.”

I was left wondering whether I wasn’t the only person providing half-truths. I doubted my mother, I doubted Clementina, and I doubted myself.

My mother sighed. “Russel, please don’t fuck this up. We need Clementina on our side. At all costs.” There was an edge to my mother’s voice as she said this.

I needed to tell her what had happened. I needed to come clean.

“Look, mom, it’s just that tonight…”

Before I could finish there came a knock at my bedroom door.

“Come in,” my mom called before I could respond.

Clementina opened the door.

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” she said. “I just wanted to chat with Russel for a few minutes about tomorrow morning and what needs to be done to fix my plumbing.”

“Sure,” my mom said. “We were just about done.”

She stood up and retreated, brushing past Clementina, then turning and mouthing the words “keep her happy” emphatically. Then she turned and ...

... padded down the hallway to her bedroom.

Emotions roiled through me. Anger – I didn’t like being played. Frustration – I didn’t know who was playing who. Exhaustion – my clock read 1:15 and I had to get up early.

And, I had to admit, arousal. At the very least, Clementina was coming on to me. I found her attractive – I wouldn’t have been rubbing one out watching her masturbate if I didn’t. But did I want to actually sleep with her? To become her lover? What if the difference between keeping and losing our house was whether I would sleep with Clementina?

Then again, there were worse things in life than being forced to have sex with a lonely MILF, if porn ads were to be believed. I fought down the rising erection. I didn’t want Clementina to see a tent in my pajama bottoms.

I noticed Clementina had ditched her sweat pants and now wore just the sports bra and a pair of tight shorts. I was tempted to give her the once-over-twice, but didn’t want to add fuel to whatever fire had brought her to my room. But even in my peripheral vision I could see her nipples poking against the thin fabric of the white sports bra.

“What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. “I was just going to bed. I have an early day tomorrow.”

I pulled the covers up over the lower half of my body, partly to look like I was going to bed, and partly to cover my cock that was threatening rise to the occasion.

Clementina took a seat on the edge of my bed, right next to me, so her hips ...