Chapter Two- The Parents

Yolande Alexander was a force of nature. No one who met her was able to deny her ability to capture the attention of everyone around her. While other women decline as they aged, Yolande had only grown more alluring. Although she had many offers, she always had her eyes on better options. She was getting a little worried when she realized that most of the good men were either married or gay. She was now in her mid-forties single and beginning to feel a little desperate when she met Roger.

Roger was a pilot for Air Rock. He was dashing and confident and his eyes flashed whenever he smiled. He left a trail of broken hearts wherever he went. He might not have noticed Yolande if it were not for that fateful late-night flight. He had taken over a shift on the last minute, flying from Bangladesh to England. He was in between girlfriends at the time and bored. The flight was almost empty, so he had let his co-pilot fly as he sauntered down the aisle. Then he had seen her.

She was bent over picking up something that had fallen from one of the food trays. His mouth went dry at the sight. She was perfectly positioned as if waiting to receive him and unconsciously he adjusted the front of his pants. Her long, lean legs were perfect to wrap around his waist and her posterior was perfectly curved as it raised enticingly.

He must have made a slight sound of lust because she slowly turned around. Her face was just as lovely as her body. His breath hitched when he saw that in her new position, he was now able to get an unobstructed view of her ample bosom. It rose softly as she breathed in deeply and his pants grew even more uncomfortable. A soft smile curved her soft, pink lips.

"I see the skies are safe with you at the wheel, captain."

Her husky voice seemed to send pinpoints of electricity throughout his body.

She stood up slowly letting him see all her curves and smiled as she walked away with a gentle sway in her hips. Roger stood in shock. He had never felt such a sudden and overwhelming need for a woman before. He had not even been able to respond to her and had just stood there as she walked away. He shook his head at his ineptness and began to immediately plot how to get that woman in his bed.

His attempts to get to know Yolande were frustrated at every turn. It seemed as if she was an enigma. She hardly gave out her phone number and her friends were fiercely loyal. Roger was obsessed with finding out how to get in touch with this amazing woman. No other woman mattered anymore, and he lived in misery when he saw her.

Meanwhile, Yolande, who was a history buff, had been reading about the story of Queen Anne, King Henry VIII's infamous second wife. Anne had wanted to be queen at a time when the king was already married and notorious for being fond of just bedding and leaving his mistresses. Therefore, Anne's plans of seduction involved never letting the king know that she was interested. Since he was used to women who capitulated easily, her continued refusals piqued the king's interest and he eventually got rid of his first wife and married Anne.

Of course, Yolande chose not to dwell on the end of that marriage as a hangman's noose was the king's final parting gift to Anne. She, however, would be much more successful. She had done her research. Roger had so many women lined up to sleep with him he would not notice one more. She wanted to be more than a notch on his bedpost. She wanted the ring. As a child, she had a reputation for being meticulous and ambitious and she had decided that she was never going back to Nonsuch in Portland to live. Roger would be her husband and she would never work again.

Yolande had talked to a lot of his ex-girlfriends who after being plied with a few drinks were willing to spill the beans about Roger. Apparently, he was a 'sexual deviant' and easily bored after he had been with the same woman for a while. She brushed aside the deviant title as he was just a man with a healthy sex drive who wanted excitement which she could relate to and easily keep up with, but she would have to find a way to keep his attention focussed solely on her.

So, she devised a plan. Every flight that Roger was on she changed her schedule so that she was also on that flight. She made sure that she was immaculately dressed in the best outfits that showed off her assets. She spent many hours choosing the right hairstyle and toning her already tight muscles at the gym. There were always some interactions between them, however brief they were in nature, which stirred his interest.

Roger would just happen to be in earshot when she mentioned to her friend Stacy about her wild night on the weekends.

"I tell you Stacy, my swing got broken because I used it so hard last night."

"Swing? Girl were you on a playground or something?"

Yolande smiled seductively and paused to ensure that Roger was listening.

"Not that kind of swing. This one is in my bedroom and trust me, no children are allowed. It feels amazing. Once I get it fixed, I will let you see it."

"Girl! You are amazingly freaky you know! Tell me all about it," Stacy squealed as she linked arms and they walked away.

Roger was too busy picking his jaw up off the ground to notice that Yolande had seen him eavesdropping. He had always enjoyed being adventurous in bed, but his partners had balked at trying certain things. Now he had found the perfect woman to explore those things with and she would not even give him the time of day.

It took months of torturous begging for Roger to finally get Yolande to go out with him. He had felt as if he was going out of his mind with frustration. By the time they had their first date, he was so wound up he hardly heard a word of their conversation. He blurted out the magic words right as the waiter who had just brought their entrée left the table.

"Marry me."

Yolande paused with her fork mid-way to her mouth and smiled. Men were so easy. She rewarded him with a slow glide of her feet on his under the table. His obvious pleasure was shown in the tightening of his fingers on the fork in his hand. When her feet found its goal, a loud gasp escaped his lips and his hand trembled slightly.

"Check please!" he croaked.

She threw back her head and laughed. He was not only handsome and had lots of potential but also hilarious. She followed him out of the restaurant and mentally began calculating where they would live once they were married.

They had a whirlwind romance for a several months. Roger was in heaven as all his fantasies were wrapped up in one woman. He had never met his match before. She was insatiable in bed as he was, and he found himself ensuring that he could keep up. He enjoyed polishing of his knob while flying at thirty-six thousand feet. She was turned on by the threat of being caught having sex in the cockpit and Roger was fully loaded for a white guy. He was long and wiry just like his dick. She relished the reach and agility he displayed in touching her most intimate spots.

Within six months of meeting Roger, she was pregnant with Sienta and as soon as the baby was born, she became Yolande Pratt Alexander. She immediately stopped working as Roger's salary was enough to care for their young family. In the late eighties and early nineties, the airline was the place to work. The pay was not the best, but the benefits were tremendous, and customs were extremely open and free.

They bought the house at 230 Cherry Drive in Cherry Gardens in cash because of Rogers's connections and the need to transport goods between the rock and the two countries. The business was quite lucrative, and in addition, he was one of the best pilots with experience allowing him the choice of destinations.

When the airline folded, he was offered a job flying for an airline in Dubai. Yolande had no regrets being married to Roger, he had long trips and was always overseas and it allowed her freedom and lots of U.S. dollars to spend. Trading in the black market with U.S. dollars in the early nineties made them even richer. However, they were not affected by the meltdown of the financial sector and they used a lot of the unaccounted funds to buy properties that were confiscated by the financial company from a few unfortunate friends who needed to be bailed out. Yolande was a wizard of turning around money and her investments in Hash Plus and Lint made her a fortune. She was brilliant and ensured that the returns were in her and Sienta's name.

Roger had a skill, and it was his fault that her beautiful body was spoiled up with a child and besides the only thing she had was a smile and a body. Between charities she was always dressed in gym clothes or parading by the pool and having nail parties with her socialite friends. The only thing the Yolande loved more than money was sex.

Roger Alexander worked hard for his ladies, and it meant being away from them, but he knew that their financial needs were well taken care of so there was no complaints on his side. Not to mention he ensured that their security was top of the line. The house was monitored 24/7 and armed guards accompanied them everywhere. The cars were bullet proof, as well as the windows and doors at home. He knew that as long as the internet was up, and Jason was around, Yolande and Sienta would be protected. It was a perfect life. Or so it seemed. Sometimes a perfect life has cracks that you can't hide forever.

The Present

Jason admired Mrs. A. She was sexy in a grown way that made him must readjust himself anytime she passed by. He knew it was wrong to drool over her, but her curves were so enticing. She often spent a lot of time at the gym and the spa, so she was flawless. She was at least 15 years older than he was but damn her physique was lit. She was from Portland figuratively and literally as she was buff in the just the right places. His hands itched to touch her, but he kept his passion tightly reined in with no obvious signs of his attraction. He knew it was unprofessional to want to sample the masterpiece who he saw in the tights, but with Sir Roger was always missing and he wondered how she managed to release some tension.

He tried to resist his natural urges, but he couldn't stop his eyes as every day he continued to look and lust after the lady in the 450 Merc that only wore Rucci or Crada tights.

Then one day it happened. His fantasy and reality collided, and it all began with one phone call. The Alexander's regular pool man called to say that he could not make it to clean the pool. Mrs. A was desperate as there was no way in hell that the girls would be over later to see a dirty pool. Jason volunteered as he saw the desperation on his boss's face. The house was empty as Trevor, another driver who was sometimes used by the family, had carried the helper to the market and supermarket.

Stripping down to his shorts, Jason stepped out into the gold and black themed swimming pool deck with travertine tiles and coping. The pool was built in the courtyard of the house, and it had timber trellis that were supported by alabaster fluted columns. The decor was quite nice, but the heat of the sun burned Jason's feet as he walked along the coping brushing the mosaic tiles along the waterline.

This is hard work, he thought, it had seemed so easy when the pool guy was doing it; he would not give up the comfort of driving luxury vehicles around for this crap. He focused his energy on the task on hand and soon all he needed to do was to vacuum and empty the skimmer basket.

The sweat glistened off his dark, firm body and looking at his reflection in the living room window, he thought, damn I look good, as he chuckled to himself. He wondered if he fell in if he could manage to swim, that was the one thing he could not do. It was stupid to be cleaning a pool that was deeper than he was tall at the shallow end, and he was just brushing six feet. He was preoccupied thinking about that happening that he jumped when he heard a voice behind him.

"Jason now that you're finished with that, I need your help with something," said Mrs. A in a throaty voice that immediately shot straight to his groin area.

He was startled and almost lost his balance, but with cat-like reflex and the dance moves of Fred Astaire, he regained his balance and pulled off the near- accident as if he was just trying out a new dance move. Yolande laughed and smiled at his athleticism. He groaned and turned away so that she would not see the effect just the sound of her laughter had on him.

When he finally felt in control and turned to look at her, she was clad in a sheer shift and only the bottom of a G-string swimsuit. His eyes could not resist the temptation to burn a trail with his eyes down her delectable body. His eyes quickly darted away before she noticed his hungry gaze. However, it was too late as she had already noticed his frank admiring stare.

"Haven't you seen a woman before?" she asked tauntingly as she licked her lips in a teasing manner.

His response came out stuttered and it took him by surprise. His lips said, 'yes' but his ears heard 'look'.

He could not resist feasting with his eyes on what was before him. She was sexy as hell with perfectly formed breasts that had medium-sized nipples the size of cashews. The muscles on her stomach were defined with the sexiest belly button he had ever seen in his life. Yolande smiled internally as she noticed the orange in the front of his shorts turn into a full and firm banana. Her pubic love zone jumped at the sight of the size of the imprint and she closed her eyes in an effort to savour the moment.

She was feeling sexy, and she had been watching him clean the pool and strut his nubile body.

"I need your help," she said in seductive manner. "Can you put this lotion on my back for me?"

The corners of her mouth curled slightly, and she waited for his response. He was caught in a jam. He knew she had seen his physical reaction and yet she wanted him to touch her. He was slightly embarrassed but curious at the same time. What if someone saw him assisting her? His mind raced and he heard a small voice in his head say help her out after all she asked for it. He wasn't so sure that the voice that he heard was coming from his head or somewhere further south.

"Shut up," he muttered out loud.

"What!" Yolande responded.

"Oh no, Mrs A not you sorry," he replied. He then mumbled sheepishly, "Yes I will help."

She walked over to the lounge chair and dropped the shear blouse to her feet and lay down on her stomach.

"Jason! Come here please and put a little of this lotion on my back. I want to have a nice tan and don't want to get sun burnt. While you are at it can you do the same to my legs?"

"Yes, Mrs. A," he said timidly as everything in his body started to quiver.

He was nervous and did not know what to expect, but he summoned his courage and noticed with disgust that his hands were shaking. He gave himself a mental shake as he refused to embarrass himself in front of this woman. Her skin felt soft beneath his hands as he applied the lotion that smelt like chocolate. Her skin was smooth, and the muscles were firm and taut below it.

"Don't forget to go all the way down Jason. Your hands feel so firm and hard. Has anyone ever told you Jason that you have lovely hand and that you could go into the massage business?"

"I wonder if I turned over, would you be able to do the other side just as well?"

His massage felt good as he seemed to know exactly where to apply pressure or where to be gentle. His hands caressed her plump cheeks of her posterior and her legs separated to reveal the plumpness of her flower. He swallowed hard as his hands wanted to stray and slip between her legs to caress her trapped lips. The urge became too strong, and his hands slipped, and she moaned softly and he hesitated a little before doing it again. This time she let out a longer moan and parted her legs a little wider to allow his big hands better access. She felt firm and hot through the cloth of her swimsuit.

His hands felt experienced and seemed to convert the heat of the sun and channel it between her legs. He gently stroked the sensitive petals through the silky cloth, and it only melted her resistance and she wanted to feel his flesh directly on her. She rolled over to expose her perfect breasts that invited his mouth. His tongue met her tight breasts, and his tongue ignited her groin and when combined with his fingers caressing and teasing her private parts his tongue was doing the same thing to her nipples. She was old enough to be his mother but that was the furthest thing from his mind.

He wanted to devour her. His shorts was straining to contain the urgency within it and her hands yanked at the waist band to release him from bondage. Her breath stopped in her throat. His phallus was like nothing that she had ever seen in all her years of being a termite and mounting challenges; it was dark and fat with a red head like an apple and it beckoned to be sucked and she did just that.

He lost his concentration for a moment as her tongue danced around the head. The low hanging sperm generators felt as if they were overheating, as the feeling spread from the tip of his love stick and the fluid within them began to boil when she licked and sucked. His hands worked feverishly at pulling down his shorts. He wanted to be inside her, and she wanted to challenge the huge male organ.

As he went between her legs to taste the nectar of her folded flower, it drove her crazy as he combined the actions of his tongue lips and fingers with a mesmerising mixture of firm and gentle caress. The ecstasy came from the sole of her feet, and it felt as if wave after wave of mind-bending pleasure crashed over her body. The moans of pleasure echoed in the courtyard. Her fingers sank into his shoulders and for the first time in his life he felt the urge to bury himself deep inside her and shot the building load that cause his balls to feel as if they were going to explode. As he guided his phallus to the entrance of her honey hole and gentle caressed her sensitive flesh with it, her back arched to receive him.

He entered while watching her face; there was a look of surprise mixed with pleasure and pain as her love muscle stretched to receive him. She was hot and wet, but she felt like velvet as she enveloped him like a glove. His mind was blown, and soft velvety feel surpassed all the coke he had sniffed or the weed he had smoked.

"This is the happiest honey hole I have ever invaded; a contented life must have some correlation with the quality and the feel of the fertile ground from which your lush bush sprang," he whispered.

Her body matched every move he made, and he worked it hard and long at whipping up the tempo of his batter stick and grinded his pelvis against her. It was as if the sky was about to fall and the peels of thunder as they came together breathlessly, they collapsed together an hour had passed since he first entered her. She was hooked and she had found the fountain of youth. Speechless, with his muscular chest glistening with sweat and heaving with exertion Jason was convinced that he had just experienced heaven.

His legs wobbled as he tried to walk and left Yolande sleeping off her high. He had sex with several women before, but it was the first time that he had such an experience. If all the kittens at the nail parties were similar, he wanted to grow his nails and wanted them frenched. He had to focus hard over the next few days at work in order not to stand up and stare at Yolande.

Sienta was quite suspicious as her secret vault and best friend had been strangely distant and seemingly preoccupied. He was just not himself and despite several attempts to connect with him, Jason was just strange. Her mother was so chirpy and wanted to be driven everywhere and she wanted Jason to be at her side. Sienta had lost her friend to her mother's Midas touch, and he seemed much more mature and grown up. The fun and spontaneity had disappeared and suddenly he reminded her of father, business-like and boring.

Something was wrong and no one could tell her, and a feeling of loneliness crept across her face. It felt cold and she felt isolated from her mother and her driver and holder if her deepest secrets. She had sent him messages when she got any action while overseas and they shared a special bond that had seemed unbreakable. She had to create the right environment and she thought about going to Optimistic Mountain or to Chukka where the two could be alone so they could just relax and talk.

Was she falling for her friend or just desperate for the thrill and excitement that Jason normally provided? She laughed out loud at the thought.

"Hey Sienta. What are you laughing about? Please share the joke," he pleaded.

"You can't handle it Jason, it's bigger than you."

"Hah," he laughed, "when since anything that made you laugh like that could possibly be bigger than me?"

"Just drop it."

To change the subject, she asked, "Can we do some karate? I want to kick the shit out of you."

"Hmmm, hostility and disrespectful at the same time and you are mixing up my Korean techniques with Japanese fighting styles. I am going to kick your little white ass."

It had been a long time since they have not had a session and just maybe she could find out what was happening in Jason's life. He felt a little funny being close to Sienta when he had intimate knowledge of her mother and he wanted to learn more about mature women. While he was not a religious man, he still remembered that Yolande was married and the mother of his best friend. There was just something about her that drew him to her, and he could not tell Sienta that he had met someone, and that the person was her mother, but it was becoming burdensome on his chest. The sparing session went well, and he worked up a real sweat, Sienta's techniques had really improved, and she had bested him more than once in their session.

"Jason lets go on the road and get a massage," she shouted after him.

"No babes I have an assignment with your mother right now."

That made her extremely suspicious since she knew that her mother was supposed to be going to Negril for the weekend. What the hell was happening with those two? She tapped one manicured finger against her lip as she thought about it. She was determined to find out.