Description
His mother's friend teaches him to clean up her creampies and shares cumkisses.
Dancing with Mrs. Hudson or Mary Shares the Cream
By Mugsgame
Cumkiss, creampie cleanup.
I wasn't naïve. While I may have heard those terms before, I had never fantasized about them. Much less dreamed of actually doing them. I guess it goes to show, life is chance, with no way of anticipating what the fates foretell.
I was still living at home, back from my first year of college. While my grades were good, my social life there had not gone as well as I had hoped. In the second week of June, the daughter of one of my mother's friends was getting married; our entire family had been invited to the wedding. I did not know the bride very well. Although I tried to avoid it, my mother pressured me into going to the wedding.
After the wedding ceremony, a reception and dinner were held at a banquet hall on the outskirts of town. The dancing started after dinner with the traditional bride and groom, the bride and her father, and the groom and his mother dances. I was just watching as more people joined on the dance floor. I already knew that all of the girls my age I saw at the reception had no desire to dance with me. Finally, my mother insisted that I dance with her. As we sat back down a friend of hers, Mrs. Hudson, came over to our table. They both went outside to talk and have a cigarette.
Mrs. Hudson was a shortish, busty woman with more than a few extra pounds. She was of French-Canadian descent. She had a pretty face with very expressive eyes. She wore her jet-black hair in a bob, draping and framing her face.
Whenever she visited my mother, she always took an interest in me; involving me in the conversation. Mrs. Hudson was a woman who asked pointed, direct questions. I remember talking to my mother once about her.
She assured me that Mrs. Hudson questioned everyone that way, even her. Mrs. Hudson seemed to know more about you than you did yourself which felt unsettling to the nth degree. I always felt exposed, almost naked when she questioned me closely. Which thank God, was only occasionally.
Mrs. Hudson tool great delight in asking about my lack of playing sports or girls. I was six foot, skinny and definitely not athletic. I always thought I looked a little goofy, with more interest in the world and its events than guys/girls tossing a ball or whatever. Nothing against the athletically inclined, just not for me. In the end, I felt she meant well, even though she sometimes felt burdensome.
Most especially when she kept asking questions after you had given a less than full or responsive answer trying to avoid answering her question. I always felt like a bug under a microscope before her.
I always thought of her as one of the prettiest ladies among my mother's friends. There was something about her curvy figure, face and smile I found enticing. When they returned, she took my hand insisting I dance with her. Mrs. Hudson led me to the wall beside the dance floor where we waited for the song to end before beginning to dance.
Mrs. Hudson leaned up, whispering in my ear "You are grown up; call me Mary from now on." Adding with a smile. "I am going to find out all of your secrets since you have been away."
The dance ended and couples drifted on and off the dance floor as a new song started. My mother taught me to dance when I was young. I enjoyed seeing Mary as she moved on the dance floor. She seemed to be enjoying herself smiling at me. A slow song started with me pulling away, but she held my hand; keeping me from leaving. As we started dancing, I held her close then looked down. Mary was wearing a dress that had more than a little cleavage.
I was much taller than Mary. Glancing down, I could see the tops of her breasts along with the top of the lacy bra she was wearing. I felt myself getting excited, but the more I willed myself not to, I kept getting harder. I pulled away from Mary. Suddenly, her hand pressed strongly against my lower back and I found myself pressed tightly against Mary. I somehow kept dancing but could not look her in the eye.
S
he must think I am real pervert,
I thought.
It seemed as though time had stopped, until I woke out of a daze when Mary leaned forward whispering "Is that for me? Mmmmmmmmm you should be driving the young girls crazy with that." When the song ended Mary held onto my hand guiding me first past her table where she picked up her purse.
Then Mary led me past my parents' table where she told my mother, "I am borrowing John to find out what he has been up to."
"Good luck, he doesn't tell me anything," my mother said, and they both laughed. Mary kept close to me as she led me to one of the benches scattered outside where we sat with Mary lighting up a cigarette.
Mary looked at me searchingly saying, "Your mother says you never go out with girls anymore. I know you at least like me," and winked at me. "Why is that? Did a girl break your heart?" I definitely did not know how to react. I felt myself blushing as she looked intently at my face with a concerned look.
I looked away when Mary said, "Something happened. Your mother said you were dating a nice girl your senior year. Then you stopped seeing her without a word, and now you don't go out with girls at all. You can tell me. I promise I won't tell your mother if you are worried about that."
I could almost feel the heat radiating from my face. With my heart racing, I was trying to figure out something to say. Mary waited patiently.
I was vacillating when Mary leaned over, whispering in my ear, "It can't be that bad. Tell me and it won't go any farther, I promise." It was as though a dam had broken. I resolved to lay it out to Mary.
Taking a deep breath, I hesitantly began, "I never really found a girl I liked before last year when Ginny moved to town, enrolling at my high school. She was beautiful, almost like a younger you."
Mary laughed saying, "If you complimented her half as much as you just did to me, she should have melted for you."
I smiled ruefully saying, "Never that, but she seemed to like me more than any other girl I had ever known."
"So, what happened?" Mary asked. I felt my face turning red again. I tried to speak, seemingly unable to form any words. I was getting flustered.
Mary looked into my eyes saying softly, "You can tell me anything, tell me what is so embarrassing to you and I will tell you something even more embarrassing about me."
When I looked at her doubtfully, she chuckled saying "I guarantee it," while smiling brightly at me.
