(All persons engaged in sexual activity in this story are over 18 years old and any similarities to real life are purely coincidental.)
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College would always bring back amazing memories for me, but I was also ready to get on with life (notice I didn't say "grow up"). I loved the parties, the women, and sex in ways and places that only college kids can figure out. I loved the spring break trips to various places, the football games, the cheerleaders; especially those with nice pom pons. I worked hard academically but knowing life would some day mean settling down and mellowing out, I also partied just as hard. And, as I established myself in my career, I planned on working and partying equally as hard.
As my graduation day approached, I was one of the fortunate students to have a full-time job waiting for me at a real estate development company I had interned with for two summers. Even better, I didn't have to start work until the Tuesday after Memorial Day, and that would leave me a week of doing nothing but sleeping in and catching up on sleep I had lost over the past four years. It really didn't matter whether I'd lost sleep due to studying or attending an all-night beer-pong party, I needed to sleep about 14 hours a day for a while to catch up.
My mom and dad had recently retired and were travelling quite a bit, so living at home right after graduation would allow me to save up some cash and, as an only child, have the house to myself. My dad, retired from a career as the fire chief in Station, and my mom from a lucrative career in commercial real estate leasing, did quite well for themselves and our home was perched on a hillside overlooking the city. They had a huge patio area, complete with swimming pool, hot tub, and built-in cabana style bar, that cantilevered out over the edge of hill and provided a spectacular view of the city.
After graduating on a Saturday, it was the setting on my parent's home where they hosted a party to celebrate with friends and family on Sunday afternoon and evening. It was a Hawaiian themed party complete with hula dancers, music, a roasted whole pig, and drinks with little umbrellas. New friends, old friends, family and a whole host of my parents friends partied the night away; including the Mayor and his lovely MILF wife who always managed to drink too much and say some funny shit she probably shouldn't say.
The next morning, I was snoring away in a fog when I thought I dreamt someone was tapping on my bedroom door. It had to be a dream, there was no way in hell someone would wake me up at all on the morning after my graduation party. The dream continued and became very real when I felt a light shaking, looked up out of one partially-opened, hangover laiden eye, and saw my mom standing next to my bed.
"Psst. BJ. You need to get up," she said gently.
After making some incoherent mumbling sounds, I finally was able to peel apart my alcohol-parched lips and say, "Why, is the house burning down?"
"No silly. It is 9am and you promised Mrs. Cole you'd be over to their place by 10."
Mrs. Cole was the wife of Mayor Cole; the current Mayor of our little city. I had no idea what my mom was talking about, but there was no way in hell I was going over there that early in the morning; I doubt very much Mrs. Cole was in any better shape than I was given how much she had to drink the night before.
"What are you talking about, Mom?" I asked with an angry voice.
"Don't get all bent out of shape with me! You told the Mayor & Mrs. Cole you'd gladly help them with some work today for which they'd gladly pay you. In fact, your exact words were 'Sure. I'll see you at 10. The extra cash will really help until I start my job.'"
"Oh shit. Okay. I have some foggy recollection of that." I rolled over, buried my head in my pillow and blew off a litany of swear words aimed at myself for my own stupidity. I finally dragged myself out of bed, stumbled into some shorts and a t-shirt, and headed downstairs. I love my mom; she greeted me with an extra-large cup of morning joe and a peanut butter and jelly breakfast sandwich.
"Here you go, BJ. Don't let Mrs. Cole drive you crazy with her non-stop gossip."
"Whatever. At least I'll pick up a little cash. Those people have money, so I am hoping they pay me well."
As I drove over to the Cole's home, helped by the sudden onboarding of caffeine, my hangover cleared enough for me to think it wouldn't be a bad day to catch a few glimpses of Mrs. Cole. She was well-known around town as the "first lady" of Statlon and for being heavily involved in many high-profile non-profit organizations and community groups. However, amongst the younger male crowd, she was most famous for being arguably the hottest MILF in the city. The Cole's never had children so her body didn't suffer the consequences. Mrs. Cole is about 5' 2", not skinny, but carrying a healthy chunk that is topped off by tits in the DD range; if I was in a betting pool I'd say 36DD. She had shoulder length, sassy dark hair and always dressed to be noticed; especially by men.
As I pulled up to the driveway entrance of their lavish home (some would say mansion) I pushed the button on the call box at the gate. A pleasant female voice answered, "Hello, Brian is that you?" Brian Joseph is my real name, but no one who really knows me calls me anything but BJ (a nickname that was quite valuable growing up I might add).
"Yes. It's BJ. I'm here at the gate."
"Okay, drive up to the garage at the side of the house and I'll have someone meet you out there."
I drove through the U-shaped driveway, past their beautiful home, and pulled up outside a 4-car garage. One of the garage doors started opening and out walked an older latina woman. She showed me into the house, offered me a bottle of water, which I gladly took (still dehydrated from drinking the night before) and then walked me out to a pool house in the backyard. Keeping in mind the fantastic yard at my parents I grew up with, this place was right out of a magazine. Large pool with natural waterfalls in a garden setting, a hot tub, and a few king-sized cabanas. There was no other furniture or pads on the cabanas and I quickly found out that my first job was to empty out the stuff from the expansive pool house to get the yard ready for a summer of parties.
As I cleared out the pool house, I realized it had a steam room, a dry sauna, a bedroom, bathroom, small kitchen, and even a little bar that had a service window opening out to the pool deck. Hell, this place was like its own little house. "What a great place to grow up. Think of all the chicks I could've brought back here," I thought to myself.
Once I was done, I refilled my water bottle from the refrigerator water-dispenser and sat down on a comfy chair in the pool house. A few minutes later, the same woman who greeted me, came waddling back to the pool house. She inspected my work and then asked me if I wanted a sandwich. I gladly accepted and she brought me some more cold water, a turkey sandwich, and some chips. The pool deck was the perfect place to relax and enjoy lunch. However, still no sign of Mrs. Cole and that was supposed to be one of the perks of agreeing to work here.
Once I finished work, the woman returned again and led me back into the garage. After opening two of the doors, she had me back out a large, black Mercedes sedan and a white, Cadillac Escalade SUV; what a fucking nice ride the Caddy was. A staircase leading to a large attic lowered out of the ceiling and I could tell my next assignment wasn't going to be as fun as the last.
Leading me to what seemed like a large office just inside the home, I was shown stacks of boxes of books; enough to fill a college library. And, you guessed it, they had to go up into the attic. Books, not the lightest of cargo, have got to be the worst thing to carry up flimsy stairs and into the attic. At 6' 2" and 200 pounds, while the weight wasn't the biggest issue, squatting in the attic, carrying heavy boxes, made this seem like punishment.
As I begrudgingly started moving the boxes, I realized that maybe I was being punished by this woman; my task master. I couldn't figure out why the first couple hours of the day, when it was still reasonably cool, I worked outside and now, as the heat of the day increased, I was working in and out of an attic that felt like it was 120 degrees. And, still no sign of "MILF Cole."
As I was chugging down one of my many cold bottles of water, in between hoisting boxes, I saw my task master walk out to her car and drive away for the day. I guessed this was my last job of the day and set out to finish. I grabbed my last box and headed up the stairs. As I came down out of the attic, satisfied I didn't need to go to the gym for a few days, the door opened to the house and out walked Mrs. Cole, finally. And boy was it worth the wait.
She was wearing a short skirt and a cleavage-revealing, scoop neck t-shirt that was so tight it looked painted on her gigantic tits. She was amazingly beautiful. She gave a little laugh and said, "Look at you, Brian. You're a mess. You've obviously worked very hard."
Glancing down at myself, I realized I had picked up my share of cobwebs in the attic and my shirt was completely soaked through with sweat. What hair I had was tossed all around and equally covered in cobwebs. "Hi, Mrs. Cole. Yes, that was quite a task. But, I'm all done and it was a great workout."
"Thank you so much. My lazy husband couldn't have moved one of those stupid boxes. Come here. Follow me inside." I gladly followed her plump little ass and swaying hips into the house and down the hallway into their spacious kitchen. I was pleased to accept an ice cold beer from the fridge and sat down at their bar.
We chatted a little bit and then she asked, "Hey, do you need to run off right away?"
