Night With Mommy

by Sofia Connor

  Through time we have dreamed of passionate love, dirty foreplay and experimenting with darkness...

  Our office was often an organized mess I told myself- really we needed more sleep, more hours in the day, assistants and a massage would be nice. We treated ourselves like slave labor for a drive of success. Always the final two in the office watching the moon light our never opened large view scenic window. It was not uncommon for late night upset calls from home to drag us away from the piles of paperwork and unread emails. This time spent together was only a reminder of the pending future. Many months prior we had been introduced to each other casually in the office through a coworker. His hello was silenced by his deep brown eyes; I was both a puzzle and a piece of art work. We exchanged niceties and both leaned over to review the computer screen in question. My mind was blank as I could feel his eyes studying my every square inch with confusion and awe...

  ...We met at vacant properties after dark, in the morning, middle of the day and even on weekends. We were creative and passionate. This night my mind was too distracted to think, work ended early and I was alone in the office. Tonight he was charming colleagues at an association happy hour. Never far from reach, his text messages are playful and inviting. We were recently assigned a new bank owned vacant studio condo, verified clean that day. "I need you and a gate code" he writes. Night meetings are tricky and always interrupted by those we "belong" to but well worth the risk. I text him the gate code and time... I'm early; I take time to drive around the neighborhood allowing him time to impatiently wait.

  The studio is located along the side of the complex on top of an unattached garage with a single private upward stair case. As I proceed up the staircase the screen door is slightly cracked and the front door is wide open. The AC has been cranked to the max and is slowly battling the hot desert summer heat. The studio is simple and modern, the open kitchen with a massive granite island overlooks the living room and bedroom area, the lights are off, the only light is pouring in from the street lamp outside. The wall large wall full of windows is barely covered by sheer white drapes floating from the high AC blow.

  I turn to close and lock the front door, but I am greeted by warm hands on my hips. They slide from the top of my hip bones slowly forward, his fingers pressing deep, forcing my body to melt against his, his fingers slow and his hands grip the insides of my thighs while his lips run along the back of my neck intent on finding the perfect place to rest his first kiss today. His lips have found their place as he slowly releases his grip on my thighs, spinning me slowly around our lips and eyes both lock only visible by the outside street lamp. We move lip locked to the massive kitchen island, far too big for this tiny studio. He pushes his body against mine, his kiss is passionate and his tongue deep, he wants me to feel him grow hard. He throbs and grows harder against my thigh, releasing a small moan of encouragement and satisfaction each time. My hands trace his hard dick through his pants. I focused on the ridge between his shaft and head. He has no patience tonight and taste of gum and alcohol, his lips leave mine and trail down my neck and on to my exposed breasts, his tongue traces the V-neck shaped cotton T-shirt. Uncommonly careful and ginger his hands slide on my skin to remove the T-shirt, I stop stroking him to remove the shirt he takes the moment to remove the hooks from my bra.

  Fully exposed he leans back to examine the image he has seen so many times before. Like a hawk after its prey he dives in on my nipple. With his mouth wide and lips sucking my DD breast presses against his face. He releases my nipple from his mouth only to engulf my breast with his hand, allowing my nipple to rest between his fingers. He smiles a deep smile as he twirls his tongue around my other nipple biting softly.

  He stands kissing me deep, I let my lips fall- he knows I will bite his lip and this time he is prepared to match me. My lips fall and I begin to bite and suck his bottom lip, he firmly places both hands on my breast pushing upwards squeezing my nipples between his fingers. He firmly slides his hands down my frame kissing long and slow- his tongue sliding along mine reminding me of his dick with my wet lips tight around him.

  I need to feel him hard throbbing with passion in my mouth. I stop his hands, my pants unzipped I drop to my knees eyes locked on his, watching the enjoyment fill his face. His smile slips past as I unbutton his jeans sliding down his zipper. Still clothed I kiss his dick followed by a playful bite, his smiles grows as I slide his pants down. Both hands wrapped around him as my tongue traces the tip of his dick. My tongue wets his shaft as I follow his vein down briefly kissing his balls as he pulls back threading his fingers through my hair he pulls my head to his tip. Eagerly I allow him to enter my wet lips, he pushes deep and I suck hard. I have complete trust as he glides my head along his shaft his head deep in my throat, over and over... I can feel the cum building within him.

  I pull back; he pulls me to him lifting me onto the granite countertop sliding my jeans to the floor. His kiss is quickly followed by a deep moan as his fingers part my dripping wet lips, he is well satisfied in making me this wet, his dick wet from moments before slips quick and he pushes causing me to stop breathing. I catch my breath only after he releases his hard thrust.

  He continues to lubricate his throbbing dick with my wet pussy juices. His thrusts are even and rhythmically calling my body to orgasm. He withdrawals only allowing the head of his penis to enter, withdrawal and enter. This continues to make me more wet with heart racing and my mind high from the fumes of sex I push away, he looked puzzled as I lead him across the small studio, he follows my naked shadow to the bathroom.

  I face the mirror has he takes his place behind me, he presses his hard dick against my body. His body is warm and sweat covers his chest, he kisses my neck turning my head to share his tongue. I slowly part my legs reaching back for his hard penis; I stroke him, squeezing tight only hinting at my true intentions. He reaches between my legs, his fingers slide between my lips, wet he slides to my clit and rubs until we both cannot control the urge to be closer, he pulls my hips back forcing my ass high, one hand tight on my ass cheek he guides his dick into my pussy.

  He places one hand on each of my hips as he fucks me harder now. The alcohol loosens him, he is breathing harder as he leans in searching for my tongue. He removes one hand and playfully pulls my hair to one side kissing me deep and hard.

  I am too wet and he slips out, my hand reaches around as I guide him back into my dripping wet pussy. Only a few thrust and he again slides forward. I reach back, lips locked I release a small giggle as I place the head of his penis as my asshole, he pauses seeking approval. I rise to my tip toes, leaning forward on the counter forcing his head to push again my asshole, giving him his approval. My smile reads, "fuck me now baby".

  He pushes, rocking slowly with more force on each thrust into my asshole; my eager wet asshole accepts his hard dick with overwhelming pleasure.

  Our silence is required during most encounters, but tonight we are truly alone.

  I can't hold back, "more baby...oh my gooooood, yessssss....yes, fuck me daddy."

  He responds, "that's it baby, cum baby, cum with my dick in your ass..... Oh baby squeeze my dick with your asshole.....fuck baby."

  I can feel my pussy juices dripping down my inner leg, he continues to thrust hard and harder, his rhythm is perfect. He reach for my hand, he pulls it from the counter top with his to my clit. He guides my fingers with his to play with my clit. I can feel his throb of enjoyment stretching my asshole more. His fingers slide to my wet lips as I continue to rub my clit.

  I can't control my orgasm....my moan is load; he grabs my hips hard, using my hip bones to bury his hard dick as deep as possible. He comes deep inside me feeling the tight grip of my orgasm.

  The End.

  One-Night Stand

  Bree van de Kamp took a sip of her wine and cast a brief look round the wine bar. It busy enough that individual conversations didn't carry, but not so packed that the hubbub drowned everything out. The drink wasn't the best she tasted, a
little too sweet for what was supposed to be a dry white wine, but for the mid-range price it was passable. In fact it was much like the bar's clientele, neither down-market labourers in jeans and covered in tattoos nor high-rolling financiers awash with cash after closing a multi-million deal. Most of them were junior management or middle ranking public servants with a few students with good scholarships or rich parents to leaven the mix.

  Her friend, Susan Mayer, leant forward, her eyes quickly scanning the nearby tables as she did so, "So, anyone take your fancy?"

  Bree blushed, a number of the men were certainly attractive, but she still shook her head, "No-one."

  Susan grinned, "I can tell when you are lying, Bree, I've played poker with you enough times."

  "That's useful to know," said Bree dryly, "It'd explain why I always end up with more chips than I started with."

  "You're changing the subject," smiled Susan, though Bree wondered if it was her friend who was the one doing that rather than admitting that Bree had a better poker face than she did.

  But Susan had been right, Bree had certainly being lying about not finding any of the men sipping drinks and munching peanuts attractive, lots of them certainly were. It was just Bree, still remained a conservative Republican at heart. And a full and true daughter of liberty didn't just go out to get laid, no matter how much her friend thought she needed. Well, that wasn't true, thought Bree, or else she wouldn't have allowed Susan to talk her into this quest for cock, but she at least outwardly pretended to not be interested. She took another small sip of her drink, "I can't see anyone, is there anyone you're interested in? If not we might as well leave and try again next week, when there's more choice."

  Susan's eyes darted around like a lion surveying a herd of gazelles and a hungry smile spread across her face, "Plenty, and not just for me, Bree. There's more than enough for us both."

  It was the answer Bree had expected, or at least hoped for. Susan Mayer was a divorcee with a young teenage daughter; it meant her cock-hungry friend didn't have the opportunities for all the casual sex she desired -- unless she wanted to Julie the impression it was all right to have sex with lots of different men with no strings. However Julie was staying over with her Dad and Susan wouldn't want to waste the night on celibacy. In fact as soon as she had replied Susan had turned her head back to the bar and was scanning it for any men who might have an interest and weren't completely foul looking. Bree was confident in her friend's ability to pick men, at least for one-night stands if not perhaps for relationships; and if she got one she would get a second for Bree. It allowed the redhead widowed homemaker to get all the fun of a fuck without the guilt of looking, a win-win.

  "What about them?" Susan nodded at a couple of guys over by the window.

  Bree looked at them, they were, at most, in their very early twenties and probably younger than that, eighteen or nineteen. They were good-looking though, and with what looked like fine physiques. Bree metaphorically licked her lips with hunger, but safe in the knowledge Susan would disagree she said primly, "Aren't they a little young?"

  Her friend grinned and shook her head, "No such thing as too young. If they're old enough to drink they're old enough to screw." She didn't wait for an answer from Bree, but raised her glass to the two young men. They returned the silent toast, appraising the two Milfs as they did so.

  Bree automatically straightened her back, which pushed her bosoms out, exposing her cleavage. Susan smiled at her and Bree shrugged, "What? I had a little kink in my back."

  "Sure, you did," said Susan in a tone that suggested she knew exactly why Bree had stretched and it wasn't to get rid of an ache in her spine. She didn't push it, instead she nudged Bree, "They're coming over."

  "Hi ladies, can we join you?" the young man grinned. He and his friend were more muscular and toned closer up, the shirts they were wearing tight against their rippling bodies, "I'm Don, this is my friend Harrison."

  "I'm Susan, this is my friend Bree. If you get us a couple of dry white wines you can do," said Susan.

  A few moments later the two young men were sitting with the Milfs, new glasses of wine in front of them. It turned out neither man had reached twenty-one, though Don had at least reached twenty. The athleticism of their bodies was explained by both of them studying at Fairview University on Football Scholarships. To Bree's surprise, despite their youth, they managed to be entertaining and at to have a passing knowledge of art and literature, even if sometimes they interspersed some sophisticated views on Charles Dickens with their views on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Though at least the conversation on Buffy seemed to connect with Susan, who sometimes watched the Vampire Slayer with her daughter, a chore Bree managed to avoid with her children.

  One drink was followed by a second. And this time the conversation was accompanied by light touches and giggles. Bree didn't resist as Harrison's knee touched hers and his inner calve rubbed up against her legs, nor was Susan complaining as Don's fingers rubbed at the back of her hand and slid up her wrist as the young men joked and charmed. A little more alcohol was drunk, not enough to lead to drunkenness, or even to make the two Milfs tipsy, but it certainly loosened things up and the four of them found themselves getting friendlier.

  Bree looked close into Harrison's face, he was certainly handsome, a face which could be described as chiselled if that hadn't suggested a lack of life, which the wide smile and dancing eyes said was untrue. It was a face unlined by any cares or worries, but the traces of dark stubble stopped it being seen as too boyish. Bree moved closer, almost like she was examining him, or at least trying to gaze into his eyes. Beside them Susan and Don had had their mouths clamped against each other, the older woman grappling against the twenty year old and both of them giving every indication that they were enjoying it.

  I feel like I'm such a slut, thought Bree as she opened her lips and felt her tongue slide onto Harrison's. I feel like I'm such a slut and I'm going to enjoy it. The young man's hands were on her waist, holding her tightly as they made out passionately, the table wobbling as both couples accidentally banged it as they writhed in throes of desire, their chairs creaking under them. A few people raised eyebrows at the kissing couples, but not many, more than one table's occupants were exchanging saliva, the place had a reputation for it, and the only thing of slight note was the age differences. And about that neither Bree nor Susan cared, and from the slurping of the men's mouths and the wanderings of their hands Don and Harrison weren't concerned either.

  "Mmmnn, that's good," moaned Bree as Harrison's mouth moved from hers and slid to her neck, kissing and licking the smooth pale flesh. One hand kept steady on her side, squeezing and gripping at the waist, the other was under the table and under her dress. It slid up her thigh, almost seeming to dare her to stop it. But only a prude would do that and Bree was out to get laid. She gave another moan, allowing Harrison to suckle at her throat and not stopping the movement of his hand further up the thigh than would be considered decent.

  Susan brought her lips away from Don, smiling as she wiped a trace of saliva from them, "You two want to come home with us?"

  Harrison looked at Bree, who nodded to show that the 'us' included her and she was also inviting her young man back. She had arranged with Susan that if... when... they scored she could have Julie's room rather than take her conquest back to her own house, Andrew and Danielle already had low morals without their Mom giving them an example of bringing back strange men for fucking. Harrison looked at his buddy, who gave a brief grin and then turned to the housewives, "Sure yeah, we're up for that."

  "I'll call us a cab," said Bree in a businesslike tone. There was no point in wasting time.

  *

  Susan slid the driver two twenty-dollar bills, "Keep the change," she said. The drive had only been thirty dollars, but Susan thought he deserved a tip for not commenting or complaining at the two couples making out loudly in the back of his cab. Don was standing beside her, sliding his arm round her waist as she straightened
. The Milf smiled as she fished in her bag for her house-keys, watching Bree and Harrison continuing the heavy slurpings and fondlings they'd begun in the bar and carried on in the taxi.

  Susan was impressed by how much Bree was throwing herself into their night out. The redhead had been reluctant to even agree to a night out, especially one Susan had made clear was to find a guy to relax her with. It had taken all Susan's power of persuasion, including a threat if she didn't agree to hit the tiles with her that Susan would provide one of her world famous Lasagne dishes and stand over Bree whilst the redhead ate it all. Whether it had been the threat of food poisoning or Susan's selling of the healing powers of large chunks of dick for stressed single Mom's Bree had eventually agreed to go out with her cockaholic friend.

  And for a short while Susan had thought Bree had blown it. It was obvious that the two guys, despite being English Majors, were really only making polite conversation when talking about Dickens and Jane Eyre. Susan had managed to steer the topic onto something more to their taste, reckoning that the pair of young hunks were more likely to be lusting over Sarah Michelle Gellar than thinking deeply about dead writers. And still Bree had kept trying to bring the conversation back to classic literature, leaving Susan unsure whether her friend was just really bad at pick-ups or was deliberately trying to wreck their chances of a screw from a couple of rock-hard young athletes. Luckily, Harrison and Don's lust for pussy was as strong as Susan's lust for prick and they'd handled Bree deftly until Harrison had got a chance to shut her up by slapping his mouth on hers; a mouth that had hardly left its target since.

  Opening the front door Susan walked in with me Don, pausing as she waited for Bree and Harrison to realise the door was open and break from their mouthings long enough to enter. It took them at least half a minute, leaving Susan standing like a bellhop, before there faces split and they walked in holding hands. Susan shut the door behind them, "I'll get us some more wine shall I?"