Promises Promises 10

I reluctantly attended my best friend's twenty-first birthday party purely out of loyalty as I'd worked a double shift that day, knew that there were unlikely to be any females present other than some of his relatives, and that his over-protective, self-righteous mother would make sure everybody left for home long before anyone had relaxed enough to have any fun.

So, after making small talk with Sammy's aunties and uncles, and having what with any woman other than his mother would have felt like a flirtatious conversation, I saw a bed through an open door upstairs, succumbed to boredom and exhaustion, and lay down on it.

I had no intention of staying there for long, and certainly not falling asleep, but it must have been several hours later when I was roused by the sensation of somebody spooning me from behind as they unzipped my trousers.

"I've been a little upset all evening thinking that you'd sneaked off home after we'd connected like we did earlier," whispered Mrs Patterson breathlessly in my ear, "so this really is a very nice surprise, but we'll have to be very quiet as Sammy's sleeping in the room next door."

I grabbed hold of Mrs Patterson's wrist, lifted it away from my crotch and gently rolled over. She was wearing nothing but a black bra with matching panties, and had a very wide grin creasing her face from ear to ear.

"How much have you had to drink Mrs Patterson?" I whispered, trying to politely deter her from groping me as I had no intention of doing anything except getting out of bed and going home. Had I been drunk as well, it's possible that I'd have thought differently, but not only was she the mother of my best friend, she was more than twice my age and almost double my size: and that meant being too heavy to push away.

"Shh," she said, putting a finger to my lips while pressing her other hand on my shoulder, "We don't want to wake Sammy."

"No," I smiled, "We really don't, and I doubt we could be quiet no matter how hard we tried, but it would wrong for us to do anything anyway. We'll both regret it in the morning."

Mrs Patterson lifted leg, slid a flabby thigh across my stomach and rolled on top of me.

"No we won't," she slurred through an even wider grin, "I've been day-dreaming about you for ages, even before Sammy's father left me, so the only thing I could possibly regret is not giving you what I promise will be the best fucking of your life."

I really didn't want to do anything except leave, but not wanting to offend her managed to whisper, "Now what I meant was, if we do anything now, I'll always wonder whether it had happened just because you'd been drinking, and that would really bother me. Why not wait until we're alone then you can make one of your fantasies happen?"

She sniggered: "I'm about to, even if we will need to be very quiet so we don't wake Sammy."

"I'd rather not have to think about disturbing him," I smiled trying to slide out from under her and added, "and surely you wouldn't either? If we wait until we're alone, we won't need to be quiet and you'll be able to do anything you want."

"How do I know you mean it?" She snorted derisively, "I'd rather fuck you quietly now than risk not getting another chance."

I chuckled quietly and hoped that she'd be happy with: "Give me a pen and I'll put in writing."

Mrs Patterson leant across me, pressed her enormous breasts into my face, pulled a pad and a pen from the top drawer of the bedside cabinet and sniggered drunkenly, "Write something convincing or I'm not getting off."

I took the pad, held it with the back of my left hand pressed into her cleavage, and wrote while reading aloud: "I, the unsigned, promise that Mrs Laura Patterson can fuck me in any and every way she's ever thought of," then added a date, my name and a signature, and passed it up for approval believing it would be discarded in embarrassment when she sobered up.

"Perfect," she giggled, before pulling some sort of tape from another cabinet drawer, stuck the note to the headboard over my left shoulder, collapsed on top of me, and within seconds fell asleep.

She was too heavy for me to move easily, but as I was still exhausted and conscious that Sammy might hear me leave even if I managed to get out from under his mother quietly, decided that I might as well go to sleep myself.

It was daylight when the sound of my best friend and his mother having some sort of animated conversation downstairs woke me, but I couldn't hear what it was about, and I couldn't move. My ankles were tied together and onto something out of sight under the sheets which I guessed was a foot board, my arms were tied to the headboard with what looked like two silk scarves, and I was gagged with what felt like another silk scarf tied round the back of my head.

I tried shaking, but the knots were tied too well to loosen, and the bed didn't rattle against the wall, so I just stared up at the ceiling and tried in vain to hear what Sammy and his mother were arguing about. They rowed for about five minutes until I heard the front door open and close, followed a minute or so later by Mrs Patterson striding purposely into the bedroom wearing a beige toweling robe held together by a cord tied around her waist.

She stopped in the doorway, smirked, "Sorry about the scarves, but I thought it was the best way of making sure you didn't make a noise and accidentally let Sammy know you were here. We've just had a massive row about me flirting with you last night. He thinks you got embarrassed and left early so he's gone to find you and apologise."

Mrs Patterson then started laughing, leant forward, hooked an index finger in the gag and pulled it under my chin. "Here," she said smiling almost politely, "have some water." She twisted a bottle cap, poured water into my open mouth, and sat on the bed. "Now," she said, as her smile turned to a wide grin, "where shall we start?"

"By untying me?" I asked half-joking but fully expecting her to do it as Sammy had apparently left us alone.

"No," she sniggered, "Not just yet. Last night is a bit of a blur, but when I woke up this morning with my arms around you and read your note on the headboard promising to let me fuck you in every way I could think of, I couldn't have been happier."

"That's not what happened!" I spluttered, "It was only to stop anything embarrassing happening."

She started to snigger, pulled the note from the headboard over my shoulder and waved it in my face. "A promise is a promise, and I've got yours in writing, or is it in effect a binding contract that we fuck in any and every way that I've ever thought of?"

"Binding contract?!?!?" I spluttered, "It's just something that I wrote to get some sleep!"

"Well you are bound," she laughed so hysterically that lines of black eyeliner formed where the tears ran down her cheeks before eventually regaining enough composure to add, "but you're also fully dressed, or have you not thought about that?"

I shook my head and replied quietly, "Not really, but does that mean you're going to untie me?"

"Of course I am," she sniggered, "I just wanted to watch you squirm for a bit at the thought of me fucking you all day."

Mrs Patterson then stepped forwards, put her knee on the bed near my shoulder, put the other one over my chest and started to untie the scarves around my wrists as I stared up at the damp mound in the middle of her black panties and knew instinctively that while she may have only been messing with me, she was very, very excited.

I didn't know what had got her so obviously aroused, but whether it was tying me up, teasing me, or the thought of having me underneath her, I had absolutely no doubt that she'd go along with anything that I wanted to do.

For a few seconds, as her pale flabby inner thighs rubbed against my ears, I wondered if she knew or cared that I could see almost nothing, but the instant my hands were free I reached upwards, grabbed the crotch of her panties, moved it to the side with my thumb, and used both hands to pull a sodden mass of hair and flesh down onto my face.

She yelped with excitement, and as my tongue strained as far into her as it would reach, I felt her body weight settle into place as my mouth filled with so much fluid that it felt like being simultaneously water-boarded and suffocated.

I didn't care.

Mrs Patterson was the heaviest and the oldest woman I'd ever been with, but not only did she taste wonderful, every nibble, chew, suck, lick and kiss I made resulted in moaning and writhing that made me want to do nothing else but pleasure her.

Her first orgasm was minor, and I only knew it had happened from a barely-audible muted squeal, so I gripped her panties with both hands, ripped them apart and buried my face even deeper into the cavernous opening between her legs until she let out a scream, shook the bed and squeezed my head between her thighs with such force that my ears felt like they were being ripped from the sides of my head.

Mrs Patterson then sat motionless for about a minute, before shuffling very slowly down my chest, pulled at the cord around her robe so that it parted, shrugged it off her shoulders and rolled over onto the bed beside me wearing only a black bra and what was left of her panties as they hung round her waist like a shabby fabric belt.

I smirked in satisfaction at having done something so very well, as she stroked the side of my face and grinned so widely that the lines on her face were creases, and the eyeliner smudges on her cheeks cracked like weathered old paint.

"That was wonderful," she whispered, apparently barely able to speak, "but what happens now?"

I turned on my side so that we were lying face to face, and said with a grin, "Well, as you pointed out, a promise is a promise, and we've both made one."

Mrs Patterson frowned and caused the thin lines on her forehead to darken so that it looked like they'd been drawn in felt-tip pen, "What do you mean?"

I sniggered in reply: "The one I stuck on the headboard, and your promise to give me the best fucking of my life."

Mrs Patterson's eyes lit up with pleasure, as her mouth widened into big grin as she replied, "Well you'd better untie your legs and take your clothes off. I didn't promise to do either of those."

I bent forwards, untied the scarves around my ankles, and pulled my sodden shirt up and over my head, and took off my trousers and Ys in one go while she unfastened her bra and wriggled out of the ragged circle of material around her waist.

"You owe me a pair of knickers," she said with a wry smirk, "But I'll let it slide if you're still able to walk when I'm done with you."

Mrs Patterson then rolled me on top of her, wrapped her arms and legs around me, dug her nails in, bit into my ear, and said in a way which left no doubt that it was a serious declaration of intent: "And that's another promise!"