Turning from her, I slipped my lap top, mouse and other stuff into my book bag and grabbing the small suitcase I had tossed a few days worth of clothes in, walked past mom and headed downstairs.

As I carried my bags down the carpeted stairs and headed into the small room that would serve as my home within my home for the next few weeks, my mind continued on its path of my currently nonexistent sex life.

I'd had a couple of chances as parties. Just like Tara, a couple of point blank, hey, let's have some fun offers. They were hot and into me and I'm sure would have been a great time, but my first thought was not, “hell yeah" it was, “what if?". I now had it in my head I might not be able to and was turning down sex when I should be enjoying it.

Tossing my bag on the narrow single bed and frowning in distaste at the faint cigar smell that resisted everything mom had tried in the room since dad left, I put my lap top down on the table. Right now that lap top and the porn sites bookmarked on it were my sex life. It was pretty hard to let down your hand.

Even my fantasies were becoming sexy thoughts of what I would do to certain girls if given the chance turning into wondering could I? I was good looking, surrounded by pretty girls and horny all the time, yet afraid to try anything for fear of failure.

Just as frustrating was I had no one to discuss it with. Mom was good about talking to me about pretty much anything, but telling ones mother they went off to quick and had a hard time getting it up was not an option, My father was a macho prick who would be mortified his son was not the stud he obviously thought he was and I didn't trust any of my friends not to either bust my balls, or worse, tell someone.

I'd gotten to the point I'd gone onto a porn site that had an advice column and posted my question. I received several responses including hiring a prostitute, The explanation was they were paid to make me happy and I could relax and not give a shit what they thought.

The second answer was a sexual surrogate and one person had posted they were a lonely mid forties housewife and if I was ever in the New York area to look her up and she would be happy to patiently teach me to relax.

That had started a slew of responses about how an older woman would be the key. They had experience, knew what they wanted, weren't afraid to tell you what they wanted and guys their age couldn't keep up.

They would be more than happy to show me how to please a woman was the general consensus. For me that was no help. I knew milf and cougar porn was big on the net, but I had never gotten into it, Maybe because I'd never met a woman my mother's age that was all that hot.

Not that my mother wasn't attractive for her age and a couple of her friends weren't bad, but as for what Milf's were shown looking like on the net? I could honestly say none of my friend's mother's would look too good parading around in miniskirts and fuck me shoes.

Then again, I never looked beyond my friend's moms. Maybe at the clubs there might be...I made a disgusted noise as I pulled my clothes out and began putting them in the old scratched up bureau dad had left behind.

It was getting pretty bad when I was beginning to think about going out and trying to find a desperate housewife to show me what to do. Besides, my lack of confidence even intruded there. If these women were that experienced and knew what they wanted they sure as well would want more than a nervous kid who couldn't last more than thirty seconds.

I jumped when the doorbell rang and heard mom running down the stairs.

“Cory, Savannah's here!"

"Wonderful." I turned in time to see mom all but fly past the doorway and had to smile, it was good to see her so excited, since dad had left she'd had a lot of ups and downs.

I walked out into the living room to see mom had thrown the door open and was hugging someone tightly. As I approached all I could see was a pair of black clad arms around mom's back and some long reddish brown hair.

“So good to see you!" Mom exclaimed as she released our guest and stepped back from her, "Come on in!"

As mom moved to the side, Savannah stepped into the room. My first thought was she was vastly over dressed. She was wearing a long black dress coat that went down to her knees and was tied at the waist. What I could see of her from the neck up however, did catch my attention. Savannah's auburn hair was curly and one side of it was down across her shoulder and was so long it trailed down past her where I imagined her breasts would be inside the overcoat.

Her skin had an olive tint to it and I recalled mom had mentioned she was originally from Brazil. Her huge dark eyes were peering out from the longest lashes I'd seen and she was flashing a huge smile that in addition to her perfect teeth caused me to notice her full lips, the type women went and paid for injections to have.

“Why hello my friend!" she replied.

“It's been to long!" giving mom a quick up and down look, she nodded approvingly, “You haven't changed at all, Carol. Bet your friends are all jealous of you, just like high school

Savannah's voice was soft and smoky, with just a hint of an accent and the sound of it caught my attention immediately. It was the voice some of the women on the web cams used and could probably make saying, ‘what's for dinner' Sound sexy.

“I don't know about that!" Mom laughed, “But it sounds good." Looking at her best friend she frowned, “What's with that jacket? It's over seventy five degrees!"

“I wasn't sure." She shrugged, “I've been in Texas for twenty years and all I remember about Rhode Island was that it could be eighty or eighteen. Besides, I was out of room in my bags so figured I would just wear this." “Well, take it off before you sweat and catch a cold." Mom told her.

“Let me just grab my bags." Savannah gestured over her shoulder to the two large suitcases on the porch.

"I have more in the rental car, but I'U get those later."

"Just come in," Mom told her "Cory, can you get Savannah's bags, please"

“Sure.” I said, walking over to them.

"Cory!" Savannah exclaimed as I started to pass her to go onto the porch.