There are any number of MILF stories out there. Some true, it would seem and those are the lucky ones, and many strictly fantasy, which we all need from time to time.
I'm one of the lucky ones, getting to know the mother of my best friend in high school in a most intimate way. But for me, this isn't a 'coming of age' tale. No 'just turned 18 and the friend's mother suddenly noticed I had six-pack abs' bs. Rather, Mrs. Roberts and I ended up getting together well after high school, and after I'd joined the military.
Sara Elizabeth Roberts, mother to Craig and wife of Keith, was any normal teenage boy's dream. Wet dream, if I didn't exhaust myself by jacking off to her image every night. And while I always thought she was very pretty, it wasn't until I'd matured that I truly recognized her beauty.
Standing about 5'6", her dark brown eyes matched her hair, which she never wore long, but kept up with the fashion of the day. Her 34C breasts complimented her shapely figure, and in all the years I knew her I never saw an ounce of fat or a roll anywhere on her body. I later learned she was quite athletic when she was in her early high school years, then became a cheerleader and had entered some local and state pageants. Which may have explained her great looking ass. While she never advanced beyond the state level, she'll always be Miss, now Mrs. America to me.
Craig and I got to know one another playing little league baseball and football. We'd played together some as youngsters, but weren't that close until we reached junior high, where we were practically inseparable. We lived in an upper middle class neighborhood, and our parents provided well for us. Looking back, we were very fortunate. Among other things we had an above ground pool, Craig was lucky enough to have one in ground. Since ours was only four and a half feet deep, we stayed at his most of the time. And it was also good for attracting girls.
His father, Keith, was a nice enough man, but I later learned he took things to the extreme. He worked long, hard hours, always seemed to have a cigarette in his mouth, and drank quite a bit as well. This seemed to catch up with him rather quickly when he had his first heart attack in his mid-30s, and a second before 40. But it was the stroke that really changed their lives, leaving him wheelchair bound for the rest of his life.
But despite his disability, Mr. Roberts seemed to keep his positive spirit, and got around quite well. And because he was so nice, Craig and I were both willing to help with any labor around the house. It was during the summer between our junior and senior years when Craig's parents decided to add a deck to the house, which included a wheelchair ramp. And it was a big deck! Mr. Roberts had the materials delivered, and with plans in hand, supervised Craig and I as we began the weeklong construction task. And because it was a dawn 'til dusk effort, I stayed the entire time at the Roberts' residence. I'd stayed over a night or two prior but this was different, having all my meals prepared and clothes washed by Mrs. Roberts.
After the first full day of hammering I thought my right arm would fall off. Any thoughts of masturbating to images of Mrs. Roberts were quickly, and painfully dashed.
Damn you Mr. Roberts!
But I quickly learned to become ambidextrous. Building the deck, that is. And despite a few mistakes here and there, which were corrected of course, the deck was finished by the end of the week, and we all enjoyed a nice, comfortable Saturday evening in each other's company, grilling meat and an occasional splash in the pool. And Mr. Roberts happily observing it all, with drink in hand.
It was during one of our pool adventures that evening when I got a good look at Mrs. Roberts' hard body. Except for some strategically placed material hiding her treasured assets, her body was on full display, and something to behold. I tried not to be obvious when staring, and learned to spend more time looking underwater whenever we were in the pool at the same time. Appears Craig got his mom's athletic genes, she moved smoothly through the water like an Olympic swimmer. We all had a little fun playing water tag, and I had the pleasure of both bumping into and occasionally grabbing for Mrs. Roberts, usually touching her waist or stomach.
And her's was a hard stomach. Mrs. Roberts no doubt kept in shape by spending hours in the water while Craig and I were in school. I don't know what George Constanza's problem was, but shrinkage was not an issue for me that night. And I'm sure she felt my arousal whenever we came into contact, try as I might to avoid being obvious.
As a matter of fact, I had to take my time getting out of the pool so the tent in the front of my trunks could recede enough to appear as if I had a well endowed package, as opposed to a hard on because of someone's wife and mother. I did want to be invited back, after all.
In the days after we completed the deck, Mrs. Roberts asked us to help with the landscaping around the structure. She maintained one of the more impressive gardens in the neighborhood, the premises would easily win yard of the month each time, if such an award were given. And it was always a pleasure seeing Mrs. Roberts at work in her yard, I'm sure she drove the neighborhood men crazy with her clothing, and the wives were surely envious. She and my mother were friendly, but not close, however I never heard my mom say a harsh word about Mrs. Roberts, and she treated Craig as one of her own.
Mrs. Roberts typically worked outside wearing near-Daisy Dukes and a bikini top. Her skin was nicely tanned, but never looked weathered or aged. Did I say she was nearly flawless? Again, as a 17-year old with over-active hormones it was easy to admire, and hard not to stare at her beauty. But kindly, as we moved grass and dirt around in the sweltering heat, she was always there with a cool drink of lemonade or iced tea. I'd just as soon quench my thirst drinking in the beads of sweat from her cleavage or licking from her smooth, flat stomach. Where did I get such demented thoughts?
Time passed quickly, and before you knew it Craig and I went our separate ways off to college. While it was fun for a while, college life, particularly the location, just didn't agree with me so I left. But I knew I didn't want to go back home, I liked the independence, to a degree, I'd found and ended up enlisting in the military. There, I was independent in a structured way.
While I'd been to my parents home from time to time in the two years since originally leaving, I decided to take an extended leave and go through all my old stuff to see what I wanted to keep. My parents knew I would never return permanently, and had kindly suggested I clean my room so they could do other things with it; I understood completely.
The day after I arrived my mom suggested I drop by the Roberts residence, as she'd heard Mr. Roberts wasn't doing so well. Absentmindedly, I didn't call ahead but just made my way over and knocked on the backdoor, which I accessed from the deck. Inside I could see Mrs. Roberts sitting at the table, head down with her hands against her face. I knocked again, but she didn't seem to hear me so I entered the kitchen area and walked up behind her.
"Mrs. Roberts?" I gently asked.
Her head immediately popped up, and she slowly turned towards me. I could see from her reddened eyes she had been crying, and I was naturally concerned. She stood and quickly moved to embrace me with such force I almost fell over backwards, but was able to catch us both.
"My, what a surprise Danny! It's so good to see you," she emphatically stated.
"Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?"
"Oh, you're so sweet," Mrs. Roberts replied, "Please, have a seat over here. Can I get you something to drink? My, you look so healthy, how've you been? What have you been up to? Goodness, it's been so long, hasn't it?"
I let her continue uninterrupted, she seemed like she needed to talk. Once she seemed interested in hearing my response I mentioned it looked like she'd been crying.
"Oh Danny, you don't want to hear about an old woman's issues," she said.
"First, Mrs. Roberts it's good to see you," I replied. "More importantly, you're far from being an 'old woman', many would make a deal with the devil to have your looks, your beauty, for just 24 hours. You've always been stunning, and nothing's changed from where I sit."
Reaching out across the table to touch the top of my hand, Mrs. Roberts said, "That's very sweet of you to say Danny, if not a little untrue..."
