Part One

Tracy Bradford stood at the stove in her grand kitchen of her large Manhatten penthouse suite. She carefully stirred the bubbling red sauce before before placing the spoon to her lips. "MMM," she moaned as she tasted it. Just then the doorbell rang. "That was fast," she said as she headed for the door, wiping her hands on the "Kiss the Cook" apron she wore. It had only been thirty minutes since her divorce lawyer had called and said that he was sending a messenger over with the divorce papers for her to sign. She was glad that Henry had finally agreed to the terms of the divorce. Since it was her money that had kept him in the "lap of luxary", he had be reluctant to give up the "good life" so easily.

Assuming that it would be the messenger, Tracy opened the door with excitement. "Ah, Shit," she said as she stared at her soon-to-be ex-husband. Right away she could tell that he was here to "talk" her out of the divorce because of the large boquet of assorted roses in her hand. "Damn it," she thought to herself. Henry knew that assorted roses was her favorite and she could tell he was trying to use it to his advantage.

"You never miss a trick, do you Henry," she asked as she crossed her arms.

"Tracy, baby," he said, opening his arms as if he expected her to embrace him warmly.

"Get out, Henry," she said as she backed up, reaching for the door as she did.

"What," he said, pretending as if nothing was wrong, "you're not going to invite me in? Tracy, honey, I'm hurt."

"Your feelings aren't going to be the only things hurting if you don't leave," she yelled, about to slam the door in his face. She would have too if it hadn't been for the young man that had walked up to them.

"Excuse me," he said, looking at Tracy as if she was about to yell at him too, "but I'm looking for a Mrs. Tracy Bradford."

"That's me," she said. "You must be from my lawyers office. Come in."

Tracy left Henry standing outside of her door with a dumbfonded look on his face. What surprised her more was that he was still there when she opened the door for the young man to leave... fifteen minutes later.

"Oh," Tracy said to Henry in a surprised voice, "you're still here. Well, since you are, you can sign these papers. Here." Tracy halfway pushed the young man into Henry.

"What kind of papers," Henry asked, pretending not to know.

"Just sign the damn divorce papers and get the hell out of here," Tracy yelled.

"You're serious about this divorce, aren't you," Henry asked with a shocked look on his face. "I thought that you were just joking around with me. You know, wanting me to pay more attention to you, sweetie."

With great effort, Tracy calmed her voice and flatly said, "I'm serious as hell, Henry. Just sign the damn papers."

With the messenger as witness, Henry signed the papers and left. Tracy and the young man watched Henry leave. His head down, he slowly walked towards the elevator. Just before the door closed, he laid the roses down outside and said, "I still want you to have these though." With that, the doors closed.

Tracy watched the young man as he walked over and picked up the flowers. "Thank you," Tracy said. "I'll get these back to the office right away. Congratulations on the divorce." His voice faltered on the last sentence. Tracy could tell that the young man felt sorry for Henry, but not her. After nearly twenty years of marriage, she'd had enough of Henry's lies and womanizing. She had been made a fool of for the last.

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It's only funny until someone gets hurt, then it's hilarious!

Part Two

Mason Storm pulled up in front of his parents Manhatten mansion. It was their thirtieth wedding anniversary and he was expected to make an apperance. He parked his Harley in the garage space they had for him. He just knew that his mother would have a fit if he showed up still dressed in his work clothes from the construction site. He was able to slip unnoticed over to the guest house, which he had moved into when he was eighteen, and then bought from them with what was suppose to have been his college fund. He then showered before heading over to the party. He may be only twenty-five now, but he had determined to make it on his own ever since he was eighteen.

Being the oldest, and wildest, of three boys born to Garrett and Lisa Storm, he was expected to set an example for the younger two. Instead, he had been in and out of every private school in New York. It wasn't until military school did he finally get some disipline. But, after turning eighteen, he went back to his "wild and wicked ways". This had been the reason why he was so determined to make it on his own, even though he still techinally lived on their property.

After showering, Mason dressed in a black Levi's and a black muscle shirt. He top this off his his black biker boots. He thought twice about pulling his long sandy blonde hair up into a bandana, but decided on a ponytail instead that reached down past his shoulders. This really seemed to make his blue eyes sparkle and enhanced the shape of his rugid facial features. The muscle shirt definately defined his well muscled chest and arms. He knew that his mom would have a fit with him dressed like this, but by God, he was gonna dress the way he wanted too. He was twenty-five, after all, and could do as he damn well pleased. Everyone in Manhatten that knew the Storm's knew how he was, why should he dress differently for this.

After saying "hello" to his parents, and watching his mother roll her eyes, Mason made his way through the crowd, chatting with the guests as he did. Across the room, one guest in particular caught his attention. He had seen the older woman on a few occassions. If the woman was who he thought she was, she was the recently divorced Tracy Bradford. He knew that she had to be at least forty, but damn was she hot!! Her brown hair barely hung down to the top of her shoulders. The navy blue business suit with matching skirt she wore told him that, like him, she was use to beinging in control. The outfit graciously showed off her shapely figure. "Damn it," he thought, "I'll be hard before I even get to talk to her." Grabbing a glass of wine from the waiter as he walked by, Mason headed over to Tracy.

"Mrs. Bradford," Mason said.

"Yes," Tracy answered, a confused look on her face.

"I'm Mason Storm," he said, his hand held out to shake hers. At nearly six foot, he towered over her.

"Oh, yes, Mason," she said, "I remember you know. I hardly ever see you around. I thought that you had moved away."

"No," Mason said smiling at the older, and nearly a half foot shorter, woman, "I just stay busy working. When I'm not working, I usually try to find something to keep me out of trouble."

Mason knew that even if Tracy had seen him around Manhatten, she wouldn't have given him the time of day because of his clothing and line of work. It would have been "beneath" her to be seen with, much less talking too, someone that looked like him. After the shock of Mason's appreance wore off, Tracy took to Mason and for the rest of the evening, stayed at his side. When dinner was announced, Mason made sure that she was next to him. Naturally, everyone stared at the two of them, but no one said a word, at least not to their faces. As midnight rolled around, Mason asked Tracy if she'd like to have a night cap back at the guest house with him.

"I'd love to have a night cap with you, Mason," Tracy said smiling, "but why don't we have it back at my place. That way, no one knows I'm at your place. You know..., less talk that way."

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It's only funny until someone gets hurt, then it's hilarious!

Mason followed Tracy in to her penthouse suite. She purposely swung her hips a little wider than usual for effect as she tossed her jacket on the high backed chair next to her. She got the effect that she wanted because moments later Mason had her pushed up against the wall, working on the removal of her blouse. His rough hands roamed her soft skin before moving towards her breasts, as his lips moved along her right shoulder and collar bone. "MMM Mason," she moaned as he unclasped the front of her bra. With the barrier now gone, Tracy moaned harder as her younger lover massaged her breasts. Turning in his arms, she instinctively began to grind her nicely shaped ass into his crotch, feeling the "beast" in his pants growing as it awoke.

"Oh, Tracy," he whispered into her ear. "I want to fuck you so bad."

"Do it," she coaxed. "Fuck me like I was a common street whore."

Mason had all the coaxing he needed. Leading her to the love seat a few feet away, he pushed her onto it. With her now on her knees, Mason pushed her skirt up over her ass, moaning as he found her pantless. He smiled as she loudly moaned as he rubbed her swollen, attention hungry clit. He could feel her juices dripping from her and wanted her NOW!!! "Fuck me," she kept begging him. Undoing his pants, he shoved them down just far enough before ramming his hard seven inch cock into her. With each thrust she moaned harder and louder.

Mason was amazed at how tight Tracy's older pussy felt. He knew that she was recently divorced and he could now tell that it had been sometime since she had been with a man. He could feel her pussy contracting around his shaft as she came for the first time on him. It was enough to send a normal man over the edge, but being use to having a different woman practically every night, he was use to their quick first orgasm and took pride in causing his lovers to climax so quickly. A few more harder and rougher strokes and he again could feel her cum. His hands roughly pinched her sensitive nipples. This caused her to buck against him, trying to pull away from his hands, but finding that she couldn't go anywhere. He pinched he nipples harder and rammed his cock harder into her. He smiled into the mirror in front of them as he watched her close her eyes from pain and pleasure.

"Oh God," Tracy yelled as Mason sent her over the edge. Never had she known such pain and pleasure at the same time. It had been some time since she had had a man in her and damn did this younger man feel good. He was by far the best lover she had ever had. Once again she could feel the juices flowing from her as her pussy contracted around the huge shaft that was roughly moving in her. Opening her eyes, she noticed herself in the mirror hanging on the wall, just inches from her face. She could see a look of satifaction on Mason's face as he countinued to fuck her. When their eyes met in the mirror, Tracy felt an urgent need to feel him cum in her. She couldn't bare children, so why not.

"Cum in me," Tracy begged. "Fill me with your cum." She began to widly buck back on him as together they fucked liked wild animals, moaning and screaming at the top of her lungs. Never had she had such an intense desire to feel a man fill her with his cum. The sounds of his balls slapping against her pussy filled the room. "Yes. Yes. Yes," she screamed over and over as he pounded himself in her. "Oh, yeah. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me," she demanded. She felt as if she would pass out as they came together. Resting her cheek on the back of love seat, she panted as she tried to catch her breath.

Mason felt the thick ropes of cum shoot from him and into Tracy. His heart pounded so hard, he just knew that it would soon explode from his chest. "Oh shit," he panted as he leaned over Tracy and placed his forehead on her shoulder. He didn't want to move. Still, her pussy felt so good and he didn't want to pull out of it. He softly kissed the back of her neck.

"You are staying the night, aren't you," Tracy softly asked over her shoulder.

"MMM," Mason moaned before looking her in her eyes, "Only if I get to fuck you all night long?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Tracy cooed.

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It's only funny until someone gets hurt, then it's hilarious!