It was Christmas evening, and Suzy and I were spending it with her mother because Suzy's dad was out of town taking care of his sick father. I think Suzy's grandfather was dying, but Suzy'd never been close to him. So, we came over to keep her company. Tomorrow, we'd go visit my mom and dad.
We were all in the living room drinking hot buttered rums, after we'd exchanged gifts, with Christmas music playing in the background.
Suzy and her mom look a lot alike in the face. They both have pixie cut brown hair, thin eyebrows, a thin nose, green eyes, and luscious lips (I'd always thought Susy's best feature was her lips). But, from the personality perspective, they were opposites. Suzy is quite shy, and frankly, prudish. Her mom, on the other hand, was outgoing and gregarious. She was also a touchy feely kind of a person, unlike her daughter, who needed three feet of personal space, unless we were kissing. I exaggerate, but you get the idea. Of course, I'm sure the hot buttered rums had something to do with gregarious behavior. She's had two for every one I'd drunk, and I have no idea how many she'd had before we arrived. She was beginning to slur her words when we first arrived, and it was getting worse with each rum she'd downed. Another difference between mother and daughter is that Suzy can't hold her alcohol. Give her two drinks and she's out. I looked over at her as I thought about her. Yep, she was out, though her eyes did flicker occasionally behind the eyelids. Probably REM sleep, I thought.
Probably the biggest difference though, is that Suzy's nineteen, like me. Her mom is forty-five. She had C cups, but they rode lower on her chest than Suzy's. Her hips were decidedly spread in the way that an older woman's body ages - especially after having had a child. You could see the outlines of her more rebenesque behind because of the way her dress hung. Suzy had a much more refined, firmer, teen ass. I liked to grab a cheek in each hand as I kissed her luscious lips.
Mrs. French and I were sitting on the love seat, very close together, because Suzy had taken over the whole couch. She had her hand on the middle of my thigh. "How serious are you about Suzy?" she was inquiring.
"Ummmmm, I don't know." I flustered. "I'm only nineteen. I like her enough that we're going steady. But, I'm way too young for marriage yet." I said, a bit uncomfortably.
"Have you and Suzy fucked yet?" he said, pointedly.
I was shocked. "Mrs. French!"
"Oh, don't be such a prude." She slurred, overriding my protest.
I looked over at Suzy for some support, but she was out like a light, not REM sleep anymore, but the deeper sounder sleep. She was snoring quietly.
"Oh, don't worry about her hearing you and waking up. She's always slept like the dead. Now, answer my question." she demanded.
"Well. Since we're talking straight to each other (thankful for the two rums I'd had), the answer is no. I've got to second base a few times, but she won't let me touch her down there." I replied, just as pointedly back at her (I hoped).
"Well, if you had got into her panties, I would have had to congratulate you. I know my daughter's a prude. Her father has reinforced 'saving herself for marriage' so many times, I'm sick of hearing it. And I'm her mother." She said, confidingly.
"Are you a virgin?" She asked bluntly. "Or are you also saving yourself for marriage?"
"Mrs. French," I said, "I think you're more than a little drunk. Let's talk about something less... personal.
But she overrode me, putting her hand on my chest like she was miming 'stop'. "Because if you said yes, I was going to offer you my experience as a special Christmas treat. I believe it's after midnight" she said, looking at her watch. "It's my special Christmas present just for you."
She leaned in and kissed me on the lips, silencing any protests I could've made. Her hand drifted from my chest down to my crotch.
"What about your husband?" I managed to whisper between kisses.
She grabbed me by the shoulders, and stepped back. Looking me straight in the eye, she stated, "He hasn't wanted me for the past five years. That's why I drink so much. When I drink myself to sleep at night, I don't think about what I'm not getting. Thinking about it was getting me all frustrated and then I never got to sleep. Alcohol is my sleepeez. But, tonight we could help out each other, right?" she said, hugging me. "I'll teach you everything I know. Promise." A tongue slipped into my ear. "And you can give me what I've needed for the past five years"
The true reason I was resisting was finally pushed to the surface. "I've uhhh, I've never screwed before." I admitted, a bit ashamed. "I'm afraid I'll screw up or something. I'm a virgin."
"Shhhhhh," she said, putting a finger to my lips. "I'm the teacher and teacher says, follow me."
She grabbed my hand and led me to her bedroom. "Turn on all the lights. There's going to be some show and tell to start with, and I want you to see everything clearly." she looked at me lecherously.
I began turning on lights as Mrs. French pulled her 'ugly Christmas sweater' over her head. But, she was still moving toward the bed with the sweater covering her eyes. She tripped, and fortunately, fell onto the bed. The skirt she was wearing flipped up and gave me a flash of granny panties, before falling back into place. Mrs. French got her knees up on the bed. The sweater was still stuck on her head. She wiggled her ass as she struggled with it. I laughed out loud, but I was staring shamelessly at Mrs. French's exposed ass. Even panty-clad, as it was, it still gave my dick a jolt.