Chris
Zak's beanbag chair engulfed me as he turned on his x box and loaded Grand theft auto. We both were sweaty from playing basketball in his home gym earlier so I was happy to relax and watch Zak play his video games.
"Man, I would give anything to bang an older woman." Zak said as his character entered a virtual strip club.
"Dude, we're both virgins. Wouldn't you give anything just to bang any girl? Even if she wasn't older?" I asked.
"True. But there's something about an older woman that's so sexy. She's mature and would know what she's doing, yeah know?" He reasoned as his character entered a back room for a lap dance.
"You're right. I'd be fine settling for a girl in our school. But if I had the choice I'd pick the Milf every time." I agreed.
The stripper on the screen pulled off her top to reveal her set of giant virtual boobs. Zak spent hundreds of virtual dollars in these fake strip clubs. He loved it. He even told me once that he would masturbate while watching it sometimes.
For some reason, the surprisingly realistic graphics just didn't do it for me. I would have much rather just gone to a real strip club and spent real dollars to see real boobs. But I was only 19 and Zak was only 18 so we weren't old enough to get into any of the clubs in the area. We had done some research and found one online in the state over that you only needed to be eighteen to get in. We had plans to go someday but hadn't gotten around to it yet. Probably because Zak was content with his flat screen for the time being.
There was a knock on Zak's bedroom door.
"I'm coming in." Said a sweet voice on the other side.
Zak quickly brought up the pause menu to hide the naked virtual stripper before his Mom walked in.
"Oh, hello Chris. I didn't know you were still here." She said. "Are you boys hungry? I have a lasagna in the oven."
"Thanks for the offer Mrs. Ferrell. But I promised my Mom I'd have dinner with the family tonight." I wished I hadn't. Mrs. Ferrell's cooking was the bomb. And I had had her lasagna before, it was one of her best dishes.
"Next time then. You know you're always invited." Mrs. Ferrell said as she made her way through her sons room and placed freshly folded clothes in his dresser drawers.
"Yeah, Thanks." I replied as I watched her from the corner of my eye.
Her blonde hair was curled and hung several inches below her shoulders. Her lips were ruby red from her lipstick. She wore a blue long sleeve blouse. It was conservative and loose but her big boobs still stretched the material. She was wearing tight denim jeans that showed off her heart shaped ass. On her feet were stylish wedge sandals that I assumed had been expensive.
All the years I had known Zak I only recalled a few times that I ever saw his Mom without her hair done and makeup on. And she always had on a new pair of high heeled shoes, even if shew as just walking around the house. It reminded me nothing of my own mother who only seemed to get dressed up on Sundays for church.
"Are you playing that awful violent video game?" She asked.
"You mean Grand Theft Auto?" Zak asked.
"You know I read the reviews for it online and it sounds nothing like how you explained it to me when you asked for it for your birthday."
"Mom you're making a big deal out of nothing. It's not that bad. Everyone has it."
"I still wish you wouldn't play it." She said disapprovingly. "Chris, does your mother let you play games like this?"
"She might. I don't actually have it." I admitted.
"See! So not EVERYONE has it Zak." Mrs. Ferrell argued. "You should be more like Chris and get outside more."
"Yeah I'll be sure to do that Mom." Zak rolled his eyes.
"Maybe we'll see you next time for dinner Chris. Tell your Mom I say hi."
"Will do." I said as she exited and closed the door behind her.
When all the squad was together and Zak wasn't there we sometimes talked about Mrs. Ferrell. Her sweater cows, her DSL's, or her junk in the trunk. But we never talked about Zak's Mom in front of him. I think he knew that we all thought his Mom was super-hot but it felt disrespectful to say it to his face.
We were all horny boys that talked and thought about sex most of the time, but Mrs. Ferrell appeared in most of our fantasies much more often than we cared to admit out loud, especially to Zak. She was a class A Milf if I ever knew one.
"She's so annoying sometimes." Zak said.
"I don't know, she seems pretty cool to me." I said, "I mean not only does she do your laundry but she folds it for you too? You guys always have amazing home cooked meals and your house is spotless every time I come over."
"Bro, I try to do my own laundry but she doesn't let me."
"Why?" I asked, still thinking about how different Zak and I's Mothers were from one another.
"She says she needs to fill her time somehow and all the cooking and cleaning fulfills her or some crap like that." Zak said. "She wants to go back to work, but my Dad doesn't want her to so she says the home is where she's forced to find meaning, that and exercise. Her words, not mine."
"Why would she want to work? You guys obviously don't need the money?"
"Heck if I know dude, she's crazy." Zak said.
I wasn't living in poverty by any means, but Zak had a much more privileged life than me. His dad was some big real estate guy. His family had three nice cars and a boat. Their house was huge. It included an indoor basketball court and a home gym in the basement with a pool in the backyard.
Mr. Ferrell told me once that it was the Man's job to work hard so his kids could focus on school and the Wife could focus on the home. It seemed to work cause Zak never had to work and his grades were always good. And the only time Mrs. Ferrell wasn't cooking or cleaning was when she was spending time in their home gym.
My family on the other hand was much different. Both my parents worked. And If I ever wanted money for gas or the weekend I had to mow lawn or do odd jobs here and there. I didn't resent Zak for it like some of our other friends did. I was just glad I got to benefit from his family's wealth by swimming in their pool and going boating. And of course, there was the biggest benefit of being friends with Zak, his hot Mom. Seeing Mrs. Ferrell bending over to get freshly baked bread out of the oven, or water skiing in her swim suit meant that I always had plenty of mental images in the ol' spank bank.
"I better go, I'll see you later man." I said.
"Okay cool, I'll see you this Friday. We're swimming in the pool. Tommy is coming too."
"Sounds good. I'm gonna use your bathroom on my way out."
"Just remember the lock is broken." Zak warned.
And then I made my way through the spacious home to the front door. I was hoping to get one more look at Mrs. Ferrell but I was disappointed when I didn't see her. She must have been in the laundry room or something.
Mrs. Ferrell
I held my blonde hair up, and then let it fall down trying to decide how to wear it. Eventually I tied it in a bun since I didn't feel like putting too much effort into it this morning. Part of me regretted that I had cut my hair. It had been so long in college. But then all my girlfriends had gotten married and one by one we all got a 'mom' haircut. I had to admit, it was much easier to care of shorter hair. But it made me feel old.
Maybe I'd take Steve's card and get extensions this weekend, I thought to myself.
I felt somewhat bold so I picked out a red two-piece swimsuit from my collection and went to the mirror. I pulled my nightgown off and carefully folded it. Then I unclasped my bra and slid my panties off before placing them carefully into my underwear drawer. Now naked, I examined myself in the tall mirror.
I smiled at how thin I had managed to stay. My girlfriends often commented how they wished their bodies had held up as well as mine had after kids. I often told them that they looked better than I did but I was just being nice. I was surprised at how many of my friends had let themselves go. I put in a lot of hours in our home gym to keep fit. Health had always been important to me.
I cupped my breasts and held them up to where they used to be. I let them go and they fell heavily back down. I felt my breasts had always been my best physical attribute. That's why Steve and I were so disappointed when after breastfeeding they resembled old cow utters. Steve insisted I get implants but I told him my chest was already too big at 34D so we settled in the middle and I got a lift. It certainly helped. They still sagged somewhat but they held their round shape nicely and I felt they looked good for a woman my age, especially after having a kid. Yet I think Steve still expected my nipples to point to the ceiling even without any support.
My hands slid down my waist which had expanded slightly since we had first been married. I could still fit into my wedding dress, although it was snug. My fingers traced the faint scar across the bottom of my stomach. Steve had suggested I get a C-section with Zak, claiming it would be easier on my body. Part of me wished I had just had a natural birth.
