by Matt Tims
She was instantly taken back to her high school days once the song’s introduction began. She could still remember her fifteen-year-old self lying around in the family room all-day watching music videos, and one of those videos had always stuck out to her. The sexy blonde in the red top that danced throughout those awesome three and a half minutes had been permanently tattooed on her brain. That video vixen was the girl all of her male classmates had fantasized about; and tonight, it was her turn to be that girl.
“Wait a second!” she shouted, causing Tom to pause the song.
The two friends looked on as she bunched the bottom of her baggy t-shirt in her hand, and began wrapping it around her finger. Tom was about to ask her what she was doing, but quickly figured it out for himself. As if his friend’s luck couldn’t get any better.
She slid the fabric through the loop she’d made and tied off the bottom of her shirt. Her once oversized t-shirt now had a knot in the bottom, and didn’t make it past her belly button. She was ready to break some hearts.
She pointed at Tom and declared, “Good to go.”
He pressed play.
The song resumed and started with the chorus—Jen flipping her long, still damp hair back—and doing her best diva walk toward Kyle as she felt the power of the guitars explode from her son’s friend’s phone. Her high heel wasted little time landing in the small crevice on the seat between the young man’s legs. Her hands playfully ran through her hair before finding the sides of her fit body, her tanned lower stomach mere feet from the high schooler as she continued to move her hips and body to the melody.
She removed her high heeled foot from the chair and placed it on the floor to the right side of Kyle. Her left foot made its way to the opposite side so that she now hovered over the teen’s groin while facing him. She couldn’t get enough of this. The tension and anticipation which poured out of his skin was contagious. The excitement in the room was invigorating. She really was this kid’s dream girl, wasn’t she? It was like her husband hated her guts while these boys couldn’t get enough of her. She just wanted to make someone happy—someone happy who appreciated and lusted after her—so, why not do that for the guy seated right in front of her?
Jen squatted down lower, this time stopping just centimeters from his groin, the roar from his breathing only increasing from the journey she was taking him on. There was a sense of desirability in the air which she’d gone years without feeling. It was a silent worship that she wanted to last forever.
She lowered her hips yet again, brushing her butt against his noticeable bulge. He wasn’t hard; but at the same time, he wasn’t flaccid. Why not drag this out a bit longer? Heck, she had over three minutes to really put on a show.
She spun off his lap and moved several feet in front of Kyle with her back facing him, the power from the guitar riffs taking control over her body. Now, this was music: sounds and vocals that made her get up and dance. What could make her want to grab an eighteen-year-old kid and grind on him? Hair metal, that’s what.
She spun again and strutted in his direction. Quickly, she found herself back in her squatting position just above his groin, but this time instead of teasing him, she decided to sit down right in his lap. And what was the most satisfying part of that moment? Well, that would be the audible gulp she heard come out of his mouth after planting her butt on his bulge. Was the music blaring throughout the room even registering to her ears any longer? The noises coming from him were the only soundtrack she could hear. But she didn’t want to make him gulp again—she wanted to make him moan. She needed to hear groans and cries of pleasure escape from those sexy lips of his.
Kyle gazed deeply into her blue eyes, her arms wrapped around his neck as she continued to grind away in his lap. This wasn’t like any of his fantasies. Sex, blowjobs, everything and anything he’d dreamed of doing with her had taken a backseat to what was happening. This was surreal. And something about this was more erotic than if they actually had sex. He watched her naughty side come out during the card game at the kitchen table, but this was a step beyond that. This was a PTA mom, a great wife, and a loving woman: behaving like a bad girl. Something about seeing this was incomprehensible to him.
And then it happened. He watched her lips part as her mouth sank down to his. A kiss! He was finally going to get a kiss!
He opened his mouth but she gave him a teasing bite before throwing her head back once again, closing her eyes, and tossing her hair to the sounds.
Jen suddenly felt a pair of hands on her hips. It looked like someone decided that he didn’t want to be in the passenger seat any longer. Maybe this kid was growing up before her eyes? The boy she’d watched hang out at her house for all these years wasn’t acting like a boy at the moment—he was behaving like a man.
But she wasn’t done teasing him just yet. She grinned and playfully wagged “no” with her index finger, sliding out of his lap, and seductively dancing by herself for a few moments before slowly returning with her back turned to him.
Those strong hands found her hips once again and pulled her onto his lap. The way he’d effortlessly yanked her petite body into him gave her goosebumps. The roughness in which he’d thrust her onto her lap had her soaked. Everything he did had an underline sexy vibe to it, and she was desperate to be his bad girl.
She couldn’t help but grin as she was now sitting on his groin again, but this time facing away from the hunky Italian jock. The growing bulge trapped beneath her was now considerably bigger and significantly harder than before. Jen leaned into the muscly teen so her back rested against his bare chest while her face moved directly to the side of his, continuing to grind and move her butt against his ever hardening cock.
“Fuck…..” she heard him quietly moan as she started to rub into him at a faster pace.
She turned her head slightly so that her mouth lined up with his ear. This was something out of the steamy romance novels she would read on her Kindle in bed. She was one of the moms from those books stuck in an awful marriage with a sexy young hunk making moves on her, except this wasn’t fiction: it was reality. She wanted him to be thinking about her when he daydreamed during one of his classes—not some cheerleader or cute classmate. She needed it to be her, and she would make sure that this kid left her house with only one girl on his mind.
“What would you do to me?” she whispered.
She heard another whimper as she moved her hand to his head to play with his dark, thick hair.
“I’d bend you over this chair,” he moaned to her.
Jen closed her eyes so she could lose herself in another world. She was ready to visualize exactly what this stud was describing. “And then what?”
“Slide those little shorts down around your ankles,” he told her faintly. His eyes were also shut, and he was desperately trying to keep his rock hard cock from exploding. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin this moment.
“Would you go easy on me?” she asked.
“No,” Kyle announced. He gave her ear a soft kiss after responding. “You don’t like it easy.”
“How do I like it?” she purred, continuing to grind on his now throbbing cock which was begging to be freed from under her backside.
“Hard,” he answered before licking the lower part of her earlobe. “I’d slide this big cock into that tight, wet, little pussy…”
She moved her hand down to his face, still lost in a world of erotic fantasy. Her fingers grazed over the stubble beginning to form on his cheeks from having not shaved in a few days. He wasn’t some teenager; he was a man. He was a man who could take care of all of her needs and desires. It was all right here. It was all trapped under her butt, and the only thing she had to do was slide off him. Every frustration, every kink, and every fantasy of hers could be attended to, but she couldn’t cross that line.
He whispered again, “And I’d make you forget all about that fuckin’ husband of yours.”
She was no longer in the real word or even a fantasy. She
was now in some kind of alternate reality. The room was set up exactly like it was now, but Kyle wasn’t sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. Instead, she was bent over the back of it, her shorts down around her ankles, and her pussy dripping wet just as he’d described to her. She could feel the fat head of his cock sliding along the lips of her begging vagina. She could feel him slowly try to enter her but struggle due to his size. She could feel his warm hand grip the back of her neck as he shifted her forward to arch her butt higher. She could feel him push through any resistance that her tightness caused him. She could feel the fullness when he finally entered her. The feeling of fullness she hadn’t experienced since college. The feeling of being manhandled. The feeling of being someone’s slut for just one night. The feeling of—
Except she didn’t feel any of that.
Her eyes snapped opened. The room was silent. Her focus shifted to her left where Tom stared at them with his mouth agape, flabbergasted. She peered back to observe Kyle’s eyes still shut as he’d yet to awake from whatever dreamworld he’d happened to drift off in. She wasn’t in her fantasy anymore. She was back in reality.
“How long has the song been over for?” she asked Tom sheepishly.
“Four minutes,” Tom responded, somewhat unsure if what he’d witnessed really just happened.
She was supposed to give her son’s friend a playful lap dance. Instead, she grinded on his lap while talking dirty to him for over seven minutes! She’d never felt so embarrassed in her life.
She jumped off his groin and anxiously looked around the room. “I-I-I gotta…I gotta go…to-to bed,” she pointed to the ceiling before hurrying for the stairs.
Kyle came back to earth a few moments later. He was sitting in the chair, with no Mrs. K in sight, and his dick harder than it’d ever been. He only had one question given his situation. “Did that really just happen?”
Tom couldn’t help but laugh as he nodded his head.
Jen scurried into the upstairs bathroom and shut the door, rushing to lock it behind her. The only thing she could do was shake her head while she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyeliner was beginning to run, her hair was a mess from God knows how many hair flips, and her t-shirt was tied off to expose her lower stomach. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her head of everything that had just happened. She needed to forget about Kyle, Tom, the pool, the card game, and the lap dance.
But she couldn’t.
Her hand rushed inside her shorts as she began to play with herself feverishly. She bit down on the collar of her shirt, trying to prevent any noise from making its way out of the bathroom as moans began to escape from her lips. Her right foot—high heel and all—found the surface of the toilet seat cover; and suddenly, she was back in the living room. She was once again on Kyle’s lap, except she really wasn’t. Instead, she was bent over the chair. She was moments away from being claimed by a real man.
Kyle’s sizable manhood slid out of her, the feeling of fullness vanishing in the process. She was so lonely, empty, and vacant. She turned back to find the jock behind her, waiting. Pleading, begging, bribing: she would do anything to get him back. She needed him. She needed him so much more than he needed her, but the grin that methodically formed on his handsome face said a million words. The time for play was over.
He shoved the chair out of the way and forcibly pushed her to the ground.
“I can’t hog you all to myself,” he said into her ear after he knelt down behind her.
She didn’t know what he was talking about. All she knew was that his cock had returned, rubbing and teasing against her moist pussy lips. It’d almost completed the journey to where it truly belonged. It was just about back to giving her what she really wanted, what she needed, and what she craved.
Her attention abruptly shifted to a new voice in the room. “Open up, Mrs. K.”
Tom was lying down on the floor in front of her. His cock—the same impressive size as Kyle’s—pointed straight toward the ceiling. It looked like her ultimate fantasy was about to be realized.
So, this is what Kyle meant by not hogging her? She swiftly dropped her mouth around the fat head of Tom’s thick penis, giving her other stud some oral attention before that feeling of fullness captured her soul yet again. It was back! Kyle had returned, and this time, he wasn’t going easy.
Her attempts at keeping Tom inside her mouth weren’t exactly the most successful. Her lips naturally cried out in pleasure with every thrust Kyle took, resulting in a rather sloppy blowjob to the hunk on the floor. She would pay him the proper attention after Kyle was done with her. Later tonight, Tom would get a blowjob resembling something he’d only seen in porn.
She was being used. Two stud jocks filled her holes and she couldn’t be happier. Eighteen, forty-two, she didn’t care. She wanted to be ravished, she wanted to be worshiped, and she wanted to feel desired.
“Oh my God!” Jen screamed while exploding in bliss.
Her foot rocketed off the toilet and she stumbled backwards in her oversized high heels, slamming into the wall behind her. Heavy pants flowed from her mouth as she attempted to catch her breath. She didn’t care if the entire neighborhood heard her scream. Her cry was years in the making, and something she desperately needed.
She finally managed to collect herself before making her way back to her feet. Her fantasy seemed so real. It was so satisfying. Every thrust, every motion, every pleasure: it all felt like it really happened. And it was all a possibility. All she had to do was walk back down those stairs.
“Dude, was that what I think it was?” Kyle asked, looking up at the ceiling.
“Yep…” Tom groaned, flipping over his pillow before rolling onto his side.
“Should we check on her?” Kyle asked again.
“Nope,” Tom responded with a huff.
Kyle rolled over and pulled his blanket up to his shoulders. He’d just experienced the greatest moment of his life, and now his dream girl was masturbating right above him? How in the world was he supposed to sleep after all of this?
Chapter 8 – The Morning After
Jen rolled over and looked at her alarm clock on this Saturday morning: eleven o’clock on the dot. She’d decided to go to bed after her little bathroom incident last night against every instinct in her body. Her son’s friends probably thought she was some big weirdo; or even worse, a major dick tease. How many times did she have them right on the edge before wimping out on going through with what she really wanted?
She rolled over to see her husband’s side of the bed empty—not that she really cared. And then she felt it. That awful, horrific pounding started in her head after she climbed out of bed. She hadn’t been drunk in so long that she forgot what the morning after was like. She wandered off to find some pills, trying to stay quiet so she wouldn’t wake her son.
A few minutes later, she made her way down to the kitchen. Much to her surprise, she discovered Brett sitting at the table, eating a bowl of cereal.
“I can’t believe you’re up before me,” she chuckled while placing a teapot on the stove.
She looked past him and into the living room to find a spotless floor and furniture. The card game that had been on the kitchen table when she went to bed was gone, and the beer cans were nowhere to be found. Thank God Kyle and Tom had cleaned up before either her son or husband found anything.
“Dad had to go to work,” Brett told her, holding up a handwritten note from his father as proof.
She nodded to acknowledge the message.
“So, uh…what happened last night?” he asked, running his hand along his temple.
Uh-oh. Had he heard something? Maybe he wasn’t passed out like she thought he was? Worry began to grow inside her as she sat down across from him at the table. “What happened?” she meekly repeated.
“Yeah, what happened?” he inquired again. “I remember being at the party, and the next thing I know, it’s ten in the morning and I’m lying in my bed.”
She let out a deep sigh of relief. Thank goodness. He was referring to his night and not hers. “Apparently someone didn’t show too much control last night like they promised me they would.”
He looked down at the table, ashamed.
“Listen, I know you’re going to go out and get drunk, and party, and do whatever high school kids do; but putting yourself in a position where either you’re driving, or someone else is driving who’s drunk, is completely inexcusable.”
“I know…” he groaned, still peering down at the wooden table.
“I trust this won’t happen again,” she said.
He glanced up, surprised by what he’d just heard. “That’s it? I mean, I’m not in trouble or anything?”
She had a long list of punishments in mind for him when his friends dragged him upstairs eleven hours ago, but who was she to discipline anyone after her night? It would seem like quite the hypocritical thing to do.
“No, you’re not in trouble,” she said. “Just promise me you’ll never do that again. All you have to do is call me if you need a ride. You know I’ll always come pick you up.”
“I know,” he nodded. “Thanks, Mom.”
“No problem, baby,” she told him as the teapot began to whistle. His ringtone went off on her way over to the stove.
He answered, “Hey, Jessica.”
Jen wasn’t a big fan of Jessica. Her son’s girlfriend wasn’t exactly the sharpest gal in the world, and she picked up on a slutty vibe from her the one time she’d come over for dinner—not that she would ever tell Brett any of that. She just wanted her little angel to be happy.
“Oh shit, really?” she heard him say before sliding open the backdoor and heading outside by the pool.
She could faintly hear his conversation through the open kitchen window.
“Is he okay?” he asked his girlfriend.
He returned inside a few moments later with some troubling news.
“Apparently Jessica’s grandpa fell this morning and he’s in the hospital,” he told his mother who was mixing a small dab of honey into her tea.