Mrs Mandalucci Ch 01

Author's note: The following is a work of fiction. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over the age of eighteen. This is the first installment in a three-part series. I hope you enjoy reading it!

_________

MRS. MANDALUCCI, CHAPTER ONE

by Eosphorus

Tonight didn't turn out as advertised. So many promises. A party. Tons of girls.

All bullshit.

When I showed up, Dave and a couple friends were already drinking. Guess who got designated driver duty? Or that was the plan all along.

Then the alleged party. No chicks. Just a bunch of losers getting ever more shitfaced. At least I manage to get Dave's drunk ass upstairs where he passes out face-down in his bed.

Time to split. I'm not tired and it's only a ninety minute ride home. I'm suddenly glad Mom and I moved after graduation. This fucking town and all the users and false friends.

I pause by the stairs, looking towards Mrs. Mandalucci's bedroom. I resist the urge to take a peek where that most lovely of ladies rests her precious head. How she ever gave birth to a douchebag like Dave is beyond me. She deserves better.

She'll be home any minute, won't she? Hmm. Maybe I'll stick around after all. A few minutes talking to her will salvage something from the evening, at least.

I go downstairs thinking of her. Her smile! Her blue eyes! The way stray locks of her long black hair always break free from her ponytail. That killer body. And her sly smile, hinting at a playful side I wish I could get to know.

She's perfect. At least to me.

A car pulls into the driveway, light from the headlights sweeping across the living room.

Mrs. Mandalucci

.

My stomach tightens. I take a deep breath.

Why am I nervous? I'm a grown man. I've talked to women before. Hell, I've made love to five of them. Five!

Play it cool. Relax

.

The front door opens. Mrs. Mandalucci's face lights up. "Hey, Justin! Dave said you were staying over. I'd forgotten until I saw your car out front."

She hugs me. Her breasts pressing into my chest, her aroma filling my nostrils. Instant arousal.

I back off. Can't have her notice my current state.

"You've grown, haven't you?" she says.

Our eyes meet for a passing moment. Her glasses are so cute. "An inch or two."

"Where's Dave?"

"Upstairs asleep. He may have had a bit too much to drink tonight."

She sighs, looking down. "Thanks for getting him home safe. I appreciate it."

"No big deal."

She swats my arm. "You poor thing, now you're stuck here with me. Not what you planned, I'm sure."

No, but what I might've dreamed.

"It's okay."

"Are you hungry?" Mrs. Mandalucci asks.

"Actually, yeah."

"Let's see what we've got," she says.

I follow Mrs. Mandalucci into the kitchen. Her pink scrubs show off her figure Especially her delightful butt.

She opens the fridge. "I should try and cook more, but I'm always alone."

Always alone? No, no, no. We can't have that. I'd eat dinner with her every night. I'd learn to cook so she'd always have something delicious awaiting her.

We'd go upstairs afterwards. I'd make sure she came at least once before I worry about my own needs. Yeah. Make her come two or three times.

The positions we'd try! I wonder what her favorite is? Maybe on all fours, her fantastic ass stuck up in the air.

Or maybe she's the more dominant type.

Fuck, yeah!

She could take charge of me anytime.

Calm down. You're torturing yourself.

Mrs. Mandalucci opens the freezer, peering inside. "Let's see."

I stare at her ass. My pulse races.

I've had it bad for her forever. Then that day last summer. Getting back from the shore early. Going into the house first to pee while the guys were unloading the car.

Spotting Mrs. Mandalucci by the pool sunbathing topless. Standing there frozen. Transfixed. Hearing the guys walking, Dave seconds from seeing his mom's tits. Not to mention four of his friends.

Who needed that awkward situation?

Sweeping a steel mixing bowl onto the floor where it made a giant racket clanging around. Mrs. Mandalucci throwing on on a tank top just in time. Smirking at me when she came in from the yard.

She knew what I'd seen, hadn't she?

_________

Mrs. Mandalucci slides reheated pizza onto plates. She places them down. For the briefest moment, our eyes meet.

"I suppose a glass of wine right now would make me look pathetic." She raises an expectant eyebrow. "Unless I wasn't drinking alone?"

There's that hidden playfulness.

"I wouldn't mind a glass."

Mrs. Mandalucci pours us wine and sits across from me. She smiles at me and I take the moment to admire her looks. The angular beauty of her face. Her fair complexion and clear skin.

She raises her glass. "To midnight pizza!"

I sample the wine. It's not bad, I guess. I haven't had a lot of wine. It's not exactly the beverage of choice at the team parties.

We make small talk. She asks how Mom's doing and about my sister Holly's doings.

"What about you?" Mrs. Mandalucci asks. "How's college?"

"Actually," I say. "That's kind of a mixed bag."

Her eyebrows scrunch, a concerned look on her face. "How so?"

I shouldn't have said anything. She doesn't want to hear about my problems. "I don't want to burden you."

"Do I look like I have anywhere to go? Burden me all you want."

I stare into her eyes for a moment, then look away. "I loved my classes. I had some good times, too."

"But?"

"I really didn't make any friends. I'm

friendly

with people, but that's all."

"No girlfriend?" she asks.

I shake my head.

"But I bet the girls are crazy for you. You're personable, an athlete, gorgeous-looking."

Gorgeous-looking.

"They like me. I like them. But that's all it is. Then there are the users, like Chloe."

Mrs. Mandalucci winces. "I'd forgotten she goes there. At least you still have your old friends like Dave?"

I shrug.

Mrs. Mandalucci picks up on my tone. "What is it?"

"We've grown apart," I say. "We just don't have anything in common anymore. It's like Aristotle says..."

I stop myself.

She grins. "Aristotle? Go on."

"Just something I read in philosophy class," I say. "I know, I'm a nerd."

"I love nerds." Mrs. Mandalucci rests her chin upon her knuckles. "And now you have to tell me what Aristotle said."

"He wondered if it was worth being friends just because you were friends when you were kids. Especially if you have nothing in common."

"I'm sorry to hear that about you and Dave," Mrs. Mandalucci says. "I always thought you were a positive influence."

"He'll be okay. He's not a bad dude. He's just stuck in adolescence."

She sips wine. "But you, on the other hand, are oddly mature."

"I feel like I've got the brain of a forty-year-old."

"In the body of a man half that age," she says. "Sounds like a win-win."

"Maybe. But what about you? How've you been?"

She looks surprised. "I don't think I've ever had one of Dave's friends ask me that."

"I'd really like to know."

Mrs. Mandalucci scrutinizes me. As if taking my measure. "I'm not sure you do."

I shrug. "I didn't mean to pry."

She sighs. "You didn't. The truth is I put on a happy face. But every day's the same. Sometimes I think just getting through it is a victory."

"Sometimes it is."

"But what kind of life is that?" Mrs. Mandalucci says. "I mean, is this all there is? Divorced, alone, lonely.

Fuck

."

"What is it?"

"I'm in the same place you are," she says. "I'm

friendly

with a ton of people at the hospital, but they don't

know

me and I don't

know

them. I live alone when Dave's at school, which is most of the time. Not that he's keen on spending time with me."

"No close friends?" I ask.

"I talk to my sister Dana every week. She's no idea those calls are the only thing preventing me from going insane."

"How do you know you're not doing the same for her?" I ask.

"I never thought about it that way." She places her hands on mine. "Well, that all got personal real fast. I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

She smiles but I get the sense she's putting on a brave face. "Another slice?"

"Please."

"Good," she says. "I want to keep talking. Finish your drink."

I drain my glass. She gets us each another slice and pours us both more wine. "I'm gonna run upstairs and check on Dave. Then let's take these on the back porch."

_________

The porch is screened-in, overlooking the pool. We sit on the couch next to one another.

She's close. I'd hardly have to slide over to kiss her. I bet her lips are soft and sweet. Assertive and responsive.

Fuck. I'm getting myself all worked up again.

"What're you studying at school?" Mrs. Mandalucci asks.

"History and Philosophy. I think I'd like to teach."

"I've heard you're destined for bigger things. The experts say you're one of the best kickers in college football."

I smile. "Yeah, I have a niche talent. Maybe it'll translate into a big money career."

"You sound like you don't want it to," Mrs. Mandalucci says.

"I do want it. I'm just not

counting

on it. Then if it doesn't happen, I won't be crushed."

"Glass half-empty guy?" she asks.

"Ancient Roman Stoicism."

Mrs. Mandalucci smiles. "Philosophy again. You're full of surprises. Go on."

"The idea is, bad stuff happens. No matter how much you hope it won't. You need to expect it and learn to deal with it."

She sips her wine. "How are the girls not mesmerized by you? If a guy like you were around when I was your age, I'd be all over you."

You still can be.

She smiles. "You know, you can talk to me about whatever. I'm not some shriveled old prude."

But if you knew the thoughts I have about you, what would you say then?

We finish our pizza, staring out into the darkness and drinking wine.

"I do feel a connection with someone at school," I say. "But you'll laugh if I told you who."

"I absolutely will not!"

"My philosophy professor," I say. "Dr. Cleary."

Mrs. Mandalucci swats my thigh. "Now you have my attention! Tell me everything! Did you have a forbidden fling with her?"

In my dreams

. "I'm just an eager student as far as she knows. The one who lingers after class wanting to continue the discussion."

"Cause you have a crush on her?"

"Because I really do want to continue the discussion," I say. "But, yeah, having a crush on her may be a reason."

"Tell me all about her. Is she the one who taught you about those Stoics?"

"She did," I say. "Dr. Cleary--where to begin? She's brilliant. Beautiful, too."

"How old is she?"

It's best to be honest. "Early forties, I guess."

Mrs. Mandalucci's eyes widen. "Oh. I see."

My face feels flush.

Mrs. Mandalucci rests an elbow on the back of the couch. "Tell me more. What's she look like?"

"Like a hot professor straight out of central casting. Serious demeanor. Beautiful face. Dark hair in a tight bun. Thick glasses. I

love

women in glasses."

Mrs. Mandalucci smiles, eyebrows rising.

"A trim figure," I continue. "And her clothes! All dark colors. Very formal."

"Do you think about her a lot?" Mrs. Mandalucci asks.

Not as often as I think about you.

"Kinda. You must think I'm a little weird."

She shakes her head. "Not at all. Why?"

"All those girls at school, and I'd choose Dr. Cleary over any of them."

She smiles. "Nothing strange there. Us ladies over forty are sexy as fuck."

I nod. "I'm interested in women who've lived. Who know themselves."

"I bet I'd like Dr. Cleary." Mrs. Mandalucci stretches out her arm on the back of the couch. There's a pause as we look into each other's eyes. "Another glass?"

I'm barely able to breathe. I manage to nod.

Mrs. Mandalucci takes my empty glass and goes back into the kitchen. I sneak another glance at her butt.

I should say I'm tired, that I'm ready to go to sleep. But I can't. I'd sit and talk to her all night.

Mrs. Mandalucci returns. She pauses, handing me my glass. Sitting even closer than before.

Okay. I like this.

She takes a sip. "I'm guessing Dr. Cleary wasn't your first crush on an older woman?"

Should I tell her everything? "No, she wasn't."

"Anyone I know?"

What am I doing? "I'm not sure I should say."

Mrs. Mandalucci places a hand on my knee. "Honey, when I said you can tell me anything I meant with strictest confidence."

"I've never told anyone."

Her hand remains on my knee. "I'm intrigued."

"Do you know Mrs. Loewenstein?"

Mrs. Mandalucci frowns. "I don't think so."

"Lives off main street," I say. "The writer. Long red hair and big, um, you know."

Mrs. Mandalucci nods. "Ah!

Now

I know who you mean. I'm not surprised you had a crush on

her.

"

"It was more." I take a deep breath. I've gone too far to stop. "She was my first."

"No wonder the college girls don't enchant you. How could they, after her?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't expect

that

," Mrs. Mandalucci says. "May I ask how it came about?"

Might as well dive in. "It was right after graduation. She called Mom and asked to send me over to help her move some boxes."

Mrs. Mandalucci smirks. "Help you with boxes?

That

was her pretext? You'd think a writer could come up with something less cliche."

"There was

a

box."

"Go on," Mrs. Mandalucci says.

"I moved the box. Then she made

her

move."

Mrs. Mandalucci's eyes brim with delight. She drapes her arm around the back of the couch again. "I bet you were okay with that."

"I was stunned. I couldn't believe it was happening."

"How'd it wind up?" Mrs. Mandalucci asks.

"The best day of my life."

"I bet! I wouldn't mind having a go at her myself."

"Really?"

"While we're sharing secrets," she says. "I've enjoyed the company of another woman on occasion."

Wow. Imagine Mrs. Mandalucci and Mrs. Loewenstein all over each other. Naked and tongue kissing. Dr. Cleary enters--because why not?--and strips off her professor's clothes to join them.

I nod. "That's cool."

"I explored a bit in college. After my divorce, too."

I'm going to have to jerk off before I can sleep tonight. "Have you dated a lot since your divorce?"

She shrugs. "At first. Now I'm in a rut. Working second shift, coming home late. I haven't gotten laid in six months." She starts back. "I'm so sorry. That was too forward. A few glasses of wine and there goes my filter."

"That's okay. We should say whatever we want to say to each other."

"You're sure?"

"One hundred percent."

"You first," she says. "Say whatever you want to say to me."

I take a deep breath. I can't tell her what I'd really like to. No way. "I can't."

"No. Go ahead. Don't be shy."

Now I've done it, haven't I? "I really can't."

Mrs. Mandalucci studies me. Figuring it out, I'm sure. "I think you can say it. I think you

need

to say it."

I lock eyes with her. "It's you. You're the most desirable woman I know. More than Dr. Cleary, or Mrs. Loewenstein. I can't believe I just told you that."

She squeezes my hand. "I've been waiting for you to build up the courage. I'm proud of you."

"You knew?"

She slides closer. "Women my age aren't clueless about the male attention we receive, including from younger men. I've seen how you look at me."

"I thought I was discreet."

She grins. "I also know you saw me topless that day. I'm going to ask you a question and I want an honest answer. No evasion."

I nod.

Mrs. Mandalucci takes my glass and puts it down next to hers. She leans forward until her face is only inches away. "What's your deepest desire at this moment?"

"Um," I stammer.

"No chickenshitting. Tell me."

Can't turn back now. "My deepest desire?"

"Uh-huh."

"You."

She takes my face in her hands and kisses me.

I'm kissing Mrs. Mandalucci! I'm kissing Mrs. Mandalucci!

Her tongue pushes against my lips. My lips part, our tongues twirling.

This is happening. How is this actually happening?

Mrs. Mandalucci breaks off the kiss. Her hands remain in place. "I should feel bad about doing that."

"I don't feel bad."

Mrs. Mandalucci looks deep into my eyes. "Not even a little? You know, what about Dave?"

I shrug. "What about him?"

She looks deep into my eyes. Her tone is serious. "He could

never

know."

"Agreed."

Mrs. Mandalucci takes a deep breath. "I need a moment. This is big. Am I the sort of woman who screws her son's friend? What's happening between us, it's a lot."

"I understand."

She smiles. "Gimme a hug."

"I'd like that."

We hug, our arms wrapped tight around each other. Mrs. Mandalucci buries her head in my shoulder.

I close my eyes, breathing in her aroma. I concentrate on her softness and the way she feels close to me.

A minute, maybe more passes. Mrs. Mandalucci pulls back.

"That was nice." She cradles the side of my face. "How about we kiss again?"

We kiss, eager from the outset. Lips and tongues doing battle.

I can't get enough. She's such a responsive, aggressive kisser. Uninhibited in the way she uses her tongue and lips. I knew she would be

.

Mrs. Mandalucci withdraws. "Let's go upstairs."

She takes me by the hand, leading me upstairs. The only light in her bedroom is from a plug-in nightlight. She closes the door behind her and locks it. Can't be too safe, I suppose.

She undoes her ponytail, and shakes her hair loose. Long, raven-black locks spill out over her shoulders.

Damn.

Mrs. Mandalucci steps towards me. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

I wrap my arms around her and she kisses my neck, licking my earlobe. That always does it for me. Immediate arousal.

"Fuck that's good," I moan.

My earlier trepidation flees. Replaced with lust. And the desire to experience Mrs. Mandalucci. To explore her wonders. To touch her and to feel her touch.

She kisses her way up the other side of my neck and gives my earlobe a nibble. "I want you so much."

Eager kissing resumes, hands exploring each other. Grinding against one another. I've never been kissed with such passion.

Mrs. Mandalucci pulls my shirt up and over my head. Her eyes widen, looking me over.

I bask in her admiration. I'm among the smaller guys on the team, but kickers aren't exempt from mandatory weight training and conditioning.

Mrs. Mandalucci runs her hands over my chest and shoulders. She licks her lower lip. "That such a tasty specimen of young masculinity wants

me.

I feel like the world's luckiest woman."

"Why shouldn't I want you? You're irresistible."

She smiles, cocking her head. "Me?"

"You see? You're at it again."

More kissing. Her hands roam over my bare back and I hold her as close to me as I can.

She backs off, raising her arms. Taking the cue, I peel her scrubs up and over her head. She stares at me, pushing her bottoms down and stepping out of them. Down to bra and panties.

She points at my crotch. "Drop 'em."

An excited sensation runs down my back. "Yes, ma'am."

She grins ear-to-ear. "That's right. You do as

I

tell you!"

I unbutton the front of my shorts and let them fall. I'm down to my briefs, my cock hard and bulging underneath.

Mrs. Mandalucci pushes her panties down and wiggles out of them. She unhooks her bra and shrugs it off her shoulders. Her ample tits spring free.

"Holy crap," I gasp.

She gives me a big smile, placing a hand on her hip and thrusting it out. "Take a good look, sweetie."

I want to memorize her. Every inch. Her dark hair flowing over her shoulders. Her full breasts and inviting nipples. Her delightful tummy and curvy hips. Toned legs and a black patch of pubic hair.