"Nah, not today." I suddenly felt a pang of overt fear like I used to when I was younger and in trouble with my custodial parent. That feeling was my "spider-sense" for family troubles ahead and usually ended with me receiving some corporal punishment from my mother. I was in my early twenties but felt like a small kid in her presence during times like this. It was obviously about my Auntie Esther.
I facepalmed dropping the phone to my side.
I was utterly trashed, feeling like I'd just completed a marathon at gunpoint only to be mauled by a grizzly bear at the finish line. My body was inert matter with only my wobbly arms able to move with extreme concentration on my part. Even my head seemed to have to density of a bowling ball leaving me only able to move it faintly side to side. Thus, reminded of the veritable sexual Olympics I'd engaged in with Charity Gilbert's mother, Angela. We'd done it on and off for hours before some semblance of responsibility manifested itself in her current absence from the house I rented from her ex-husband.
It felt like a 1-ton weight was left on my chest as my mind drifted comparing the woman and her self-described malevolent daughter who was one of the greatest fuck buddies I'd ever had. Our very last tryst ended with Charity laying me out cold and now her mother Angela had demonstrated that apple didn't fall far from the tree. I chortled thinking about how easily she got out of bed after working me over sexually. I'd fallen for it like a clueless dupe. This mature fortysomething had run through me like wet tissue paper. There was no doubt I'd have to step up my daily workouts and buy a shit ton of zinc.
"We could've gone one more round." I mused laughing to myself starting to yarn profusely.
I drifted off for a while.
"Huh?" My android woke me out of a deep blubbering slumber through vibration alone. I usually left it on mute for the most part although I didn't get many calls outside of my close tightknit circle which consisted of my cousin Jaquan and Rashida Sikes, the penultimate muse of my online site. I'd made the mistake of leaving my discarded phone in my crotch right before falling back into a deep slumber.
"Well, that's different; let's see who's ringing my phone this fine afternoon." I found an unfamiliar number staring me in the face as it buzzed incessantly. I didn't know who this was and for some reason felt it might be my mother or another family member trying to give me the business.
"Fuck that noise." I'd been asleep for two whole hours finding that it was just after noon, but I felt no different than when I slipped into slumber earlier. Charity's mother had really put in work.
My eyelids felt weighted down by cement blocks as I dropped off again.
"Shit, what the fuck?" I was jolted awake again finding the phone pressed against the opposite side of my head this time. I was lying face down pretty much spread eagle except for the hand in custody of the phone.
"Hey there yuh awake now? mi nuh like chatting wid no man who ave di nerve tuh waste mi time boy! mi get sup'm real nice tuh fix yuh up wid an yuh big hood nigga naah guh kno weh fi him head from fi him ass!"
"Huh?" I'd awakened in the middle of a conversation with some woman with a really thick Caribbean accent; and she wasn't happy.
"Hey madafucka yuh kno who di fuck mi am?"
"As a matter of fact, I don't." It was an honest admission.
The call ended abruptly as I sat upright scratching my head, confused. The air mattress I'd been using was completely deflated. I figured it was hell on my back eliciting an instinctual reaction in my sleep for more comfort while I'd somehow conversed in a fugue state.
"Whatever." I crawled out of what was left of my pallet on all fours into the corridor noticing the scent of air freshener that had sort of an orangish odor permeating the house. I righted myself finding that my knees were shaking a little and managed to hobble into the bathroom throwing some water on my face. I checked my phone finding even more calls that I was intent on ignoring.
"Oh wow, I'm purely shocked." My eyes went wide at the surprise waiting for me.
The entire house had been cleaned from top to bottom almost sparkling. I inched back to the bathroom noticing the gleaming almost glowing white fixtures, toilet and sink included. The shower walls and tub were scrubbed down looking damn near factory new. There the bathmat was replaced with a new cleaned one that I recognized from the basement storage near the boiler. I drifted over to the living room finding it immaturely cleaned and vacuumed with the source of that orangish air freshener affixed to the wall plugged into an outlet behind the coatrack. The former Mrs. Gilbert had been a busy beaver.
"Huh, what's this?" I'd intended to call Angela up and thank her but found a video clip she'd sent almost two hours earlier.
"Whoa." I glanced into the partially open door to my bedroom finding one of my camera stands with the ring light still attached, then looked at my android again.
Angela was seen in the clip wearing an apron which probably belonged to her at some point in time, and nothing else. The apron didn't belong to Tressie because she'd never lived in the former Gilbert home. Once the happy couple were reunited, William Gilbert never returned preferring not to agitate his daughter who ended up living there alone for a short time while he took residence in a hotel with Tressie almost maxing out his credit cards before finding a home out of state. This was Angela's apron.
Angela knew what she was doing standing center frame in front of the refrigerator with a hundred watt smile that was unusual to anyone who'd known her for any period of time. I watched as she went about things cleaning the kitchen, bathroom and living room all while giving me views oof her tight, toned derriere and glimpses of her large sloping, slightly sagging breasts. The apron was one the vintage numbers that partially covered her chest. Her nipples were highly visible poking into the cotton material of the frilly apron with its checkered canary yellow and white pattern.
I was getting a show.
I appreciated the time and effort taken by the grateful mature watching a segment of the clip that showed this pretty wealthy woman on her knees dutifully cleaning the tub with that butt facing the camera. Her peach was clearly visible for my viewing pleasure as she periodically glanced back at the lense capturing everything with this knowing smile that reminded me way too much of her errant daughter. Adding to the meta atmosphere of this gift to my unflagging libido was when the former Mrs. Gilbert reached between her defined thighs spreading her flower open revealing the rich pink insides.
Two finger disappeared inside pumping away frantically for a minute or two before she knelt upright chortling to herself, then winked at the camera. She stood up hitting the shower washing all of the cleanser out of the tub still shooting me looks via the camera before removing the hamper. There was an abrupt jump cut in the footage that led to a view of my exposed crotch and deflated tumescence. Angela's face was hovering over my endowment staring into the camera with a mischievous smirk.
She reached into frame grabbing all of my package stuffing her face with it for a sustained, soulful blowjob that failed miserably to produce any results. My unconscious body was given the full Monty, even my balls which she slurped and teased flicking her tongue on them until my crotch was a soapy mess of her copious saliva. I think she even went after my taint, afraid that I might have been rimmed in my sleep. My entire endowment was cradled between her hands as her head bobbed for another few minutes before she gave up handling my dead cock like a used condom. Angela looked into the camera.
"Well, you can't say I didn't try." She shrugged playfully chuckling as her head disappeared from frame.
"HOW THE FUCK DID I SLEEP THROUGH THIS?!!" I facepalmed as another jump cut changed the scenery.
Now I was treated to a low camera angle set up in the back of the basement facing Angela from across the room. She was in the process of stuffing my dirty laundry into the washer, still nude except for the apron. The whole meta situation continued as she glanced back across the room making me wonder about the camera placement. She turned on the washer intently watching as the water filled up the vintage model before starting in herkie jerky fashion. I seldom used the machine because of this, finding it too loud and disruptive. The washer would always shake and vibrate uncontrollably.
"Oh shit, fuck me."
Angela peeled the top of the apron down exposing her breasts then reached backwards grabbing the edge of the washer. She jumped up sitting on top of it with her long defined legs draped over the sides smiling at the camera whimsically. It only took moments before the effects of the heavy vibrations became clear as her head rocked back on her shoulders facing the basement ceiling under the kitchen. Her hands groped and squeezed her breasts pulling and distending the nipples in several intervals before she pulled the lower half of the apron aside diddling herself silly.
I watched the fortysomething keel over off the washer somehow avoiding smacking her head on the pavement as she crawled towards the camera on all fours, visibly panting. Angela didn't say anything, just paused the camera which resulted in another jump cut that saw her desperately grinding my flaccid penis with the underside of my tumescence sandwiched between her labia. When this didn't work, Angela turned around with her butt facing my face. Her openings were on full display as she finished things herself going over with a long sustained feral distressed yowl.
"HOW-THE-FUCK-DID I SLEEP THROUGH THIS SHIT?!!"
After getting hers, Angela tried to suck me into hardness again failing again before taking her camera which was obviously an I-Phone connected to one of my selfie sticks. She paused the feed while it was focused on her sweat glistened face. A final jump cut saw her sitting in the living room on the couch finishing the folding of my newly washed clothing, unmentionables included. This final brief segment seemed like some sort of exit interview as she talked to me via the camera.
"It took everything I had not to wake you up or sit on your face this morning. I just couldn't do it; not that I didn't want to, but you looked so cute all knocked out on the floor. I think I popped the air mattress, sorry about that. I'll buy you a new one if you want, but I'd rather get you in a proper bed. Uhm, I wanted to thank you for everything and... apologize for being disrespectful when we first met. "
She took a moment thinking things over.
"I'd have loved to have you as Charity's boyfriend but would probably be jealous knowing how good you are in bed. Might want to start taking your workout a little more seriously if you can't keep up with an old lady like me; hell, I imagine Charity put your lights out every time you two slept together. You should really be careful sleeping around her because she has a tendency to put her fingers in the most inconvenient places. Her old boyfriend Jayson called me up one time to "tell on my daughter" after she coerced him into letting her milk his prostrate. We were laughing about it all weekend... God, I miss my best friend. I miss Charity so much. Guess I should have been a mother instead of her friend."
