From the author:
This story was spawned in my head as I went to Story Search and saw the Recent Searches list. My eyes scanned through them and by number 3 I had a story idea, then I decided it would be fun to include them all. I actually had to Google what number 10 was. The list was as follows:
1: best friend mom 2: big breast 3: black mommy 4: creampie 5: cum eating 6: DIVORCED 7: fishing 8: hairy 9: panties 10: queening 11: revenge 12: saggy 13: sloppy 14: woman watch
With that "warning" enjoy!
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Queen of Me
I yawned as I sleep stumbled down the hallway to the bathroom of my friend Brick's house. (His name wasn't Brick but everyone called him that as he hated his real name, it was an old family name that his dad had insisted he be the fourth in the line.) I hadn't stayed at a friends house since sophomore year, it just seemed like kids stuff, was even less inclined now that I was eighteen but Brick's dad was coming early in the morning to take us on his boat fishing on the river. It was the first time Brick was hanging out with him since the divorce, he wanted some back-up, was really worried I'd miss the "Five A.M. sharp!" time and he'd be stuck with his dad alone all day. So here I was!
After draining myself I was a little parched, just because I didn't spend the night here anymore didn't mean that I didn't come over a lot. Walking to the kitchen I nearly jumped out of my skin, finding Brick's mom standing at the stove stirring something in a pot while staring forlornly at her phone. At first I thought she must not have heard me shuffling around, by how little reaction there was to me. But when she turned back to look at me, I knew she was just exhausted.
"You... Okay Mrs. Washington?" I asked her at the same time she mustered up a nearly identical question.
"Everything alright Sweet-Boy?" Not in the normally bright manner she usually operated at, then again it wasn't normally two in the morning when I talked to her.
Sweet-Boy was what she always called me, I think because I was the first person to befriend her son when she was worried that he wasn't going to find any friends with them moving him to a town where there was only a handful of other black families. (Like two, which I wasn't part of.) Day one Brick came home talking about me all happy and excited that he'd met a kid, "Just like me!" and ever since I was Sweet-Boy. Other friends were honey or sweetie but none of them but me were Sweet-Boy. I hadn't done anything but be friends with a person I would have been friends with anyway since we did like 80% of the same things but... It was still nice.
"Yeah, just a little parched." She was there I politely motioned for permission to the refrigerator.
"I can't sleep, trying some warm milk for the first time since I was a kid. You want some?" I just wanted a sip of water and bed, but I could see she wanted some company and she'd always been so nice to me, so much like a mom.
"Yeah, I've heard warm milk works... never tried it." Sounded gross but I came over to have a look while she pulled a second mug down from the cupboard.
I guess she was groggy or she expected me to plop down at the table waiting to be served, Brick and his sister would have sat. Not because they were lazy but it was usually something Mrs. Washington insisted on doing, to her kids and for everyone. My mom and dad stopped serving me when I was like seven or eight, they made (Read: bought) the food and left me to make my own plate.
So that's why I saw, she was looking at porn on her phone! Or that's what I thought at first when I looked down to see a black guy holding the back of a blonde woman's head, thrusting himself into her mouth before the caption, "Should have done this years ago!" came up across the screen. Only for the video to start again, on a loop. I stood there in shock, trying to figure out why prudish Mrs. Washington was watching that of all things. Shocked enough that when it cycled three times until I saw it, right before she realized it was still playing and covered the screen with her hand, that there was a name that flicked up briefly. Amil_Trey. Brick's dad, the third Amil, Mrs. Washington's ex.
"That's why I can't sleep." Too tired for excuses or cover-stories, she hung her head while lifting the pot of warm milk from the stovetop expertly pouring some into each mug.
"Oh I... No need..." I mumbled but she clearly needed company and needed to tell somebody.
"It was stupid but I friended him a while ago as one of his old friends. Just to keep track of him, to see..." If he was already moving on while they were separated. "He knows it's me. He... sends me shit like this all the time. Him with random women, mostly... White women." I could tell she felt guilty about that hurting her more. "I know that's bad but... God it hurts!"
"Why not?" I wasn't the advice type, I did reach out to comfort her, she instantly fell against me resting her head on my shoulder. While I resisted the urge to turn into her and try and figure out what exactly the lovely smell of her was, I found myself giving advice. "I... Maybe it's a hint racist but I think it hurts you more because he's clearly looking for the opposite of you. My ex girlfriend did that to me, after I dumped her she went for some dumb jock. Always pranced around in front of me with him."
"Opposite of me? Yes! Maybe that's it, young beautiful white girls. Something I could never be for him, do for him. I tried and tried but... I could never be a young beautiful white girl." I could feel it as much as hear it, my stupid advice had worked! She was less rigid with misery.
"I would hardly say all that."
"What?"
"Pardon my language but that bitch was ugly." She was plain but I was going for trying to make my other mom feel good again. "Only thing 'opposite' of you is that she's white, and she isn't attractive. You don't look old AT all. Not even a little." I told myself to shut up but couldn't help it. "You're proof of what they say, black don't crack."
Did she look old enough to be a mother, yes. Did she look old? NO! Thankfully after a second she burst out laughing, giving me a playful push but caught me by my hands, smiling. I was suddenly aware that she was in her robe, which was tied but enough of it was open to notice she was wearing only a silk nightie underneath. She didn't look as old as my mom did, not at all! Pretty round face, friendly brown eyes, a big lovely smile, and a curvy body that was very interesting to a horny eighteen year old like me.
"You trying to be funny with me?"
"No, yes, but seriously... That girl he was with looked like a meth head to me. You're way more beautiful than her, WAY more. You don't look old, at all. And so what? Of the three you mentioned, she's just got white." I gave a shrug to what I thought that brought to the table. Now she slapped my hands away, but still smiled taking the mugs up but leaving her phone.
"Grab my phone, password is 331822 and you tell me that that girl ain't beautiful, more beautiful than me." Standing there not just waiting for me to grab her phone but to enter her passcode, so the video started playing, I couldn't help myself, there was a second video in the same direct message box, the blonde getting pounded by who was indeed Mr. Washington. "She's not more beautiful than me?"
"No." She wasn't, for a hookup she was alright but as far as waking up to somebody everyday? I'd choose Mrs. Washington even with the age difference.
"Boy!" Disbelief that I was even trying.
"I'm serious Mrs. Washington. You're beautiful and... yeah..." Nodding.
"And yeah what?" Squinting at me.
"And yeah... What?" Confused.
"You said 'And' then trailed off and put a yeah. And yeah what?" Motioning with one of the mugs in a dangerous way, I didn't want to say it.
"And... And..." Her eyebrow went up, about ready to call me out. "You're beautiful and I'd rather have sex with you once than this meth head a thousand times." Not exactly what I was going to say but close enough. "Don't... I'm serious, you're really very hot Mrs. Washington."
"Oh you Sweet-Boy, it's nice for you to say but you don't mean that."
"I do! I swear!"
"You swear!" Scoffing, but squinting at me after a second. "You swear?"
"I swear."
"Swear you want to have sex with me? Old divorced Mrs. Washington?" I should have corrected that but this was all so weird, I didn't know if it would end with her appreciating my kindness, or things between us being weird forever. Hesitating before putting the mugs into the sink, then asking. "So if I did this?"
I almost told her not too! As she reached for her robe, not because I didn't want to see but because I knew it was so very wrong. Not anything an average "Sweet-Boy" like me was ever prepared to experience in anything but guilty fantasies and late night secret porn viewing. I didn't stop her, mostly because it was too late. A tug of the belt, a movement of her shoulders, then the robe fell away to her elbows.
Revealing a skimpy silky nightie with string straps. It revealed her large saggy breasts, the sides and tops of them, but was tight against them too. Loose fitting all down to where it ended HIGH up on her legs. Alluring cocoa brown legs, that were shapely like that white skinny girl could only dream of.
"You'd still say I was sexy?"
"Uh... Hell yes I would, I would say more but... Mrs. Washington, holy crap you're hot!" The nightie hit her hips just a little, wide hips! But mostly I was bouncing my eyes up and down, from her legs to her chest. No bra (Duh!) her large pair hung free, saggy yes but big and beautiful. The nipples very visible through the thin material. "Now... I'm gonna really need that warm milk because... Now I'm not going to be able to sleep!"
"Sweet-Boy!" Her laugh was rich and joyous, delighted but still disbelieving, shaking her head the more she saw me stare dumbly. "You are a good one! About ready to drool standing over there, I almost believe you." Maybe to her it was a game of chicken, maybe she did believe me, because she took her robe off, draped it onto the counter, stared at me, then did a catwalk run to the end of the kitchen and back. "Can't say it isn't... I bought this thing hoping to be looked at exactly how you're looking at me."
"My god Mrs. Washington! You're..." I could only stand there, stammer, and stare.
"I shouldn't be doing this to my son's one and only friend." I wasn't his one and only, longest and best yes but he had others. Telling herself that didn't stop her from running her hands over the nightie, pulling it down to reveal even more of her cleavage, but mainly pulling it tight over a midriff that was smaller than I would have believed, going out from about the ribs down. "But god do I like the way you're looking at me right now."