Mom and Rita

This is a re-submission of this story, minus a few minor editing errors that slipped through the first time, but which have now been corrected.

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There had been rumours, years ago when she was younger, that my mother's best friend Rita had had affairs with a couple of her students. There had been much quieter rumours, years ago, that my mother Beth had bedded one or two of Rita's students herself. I was insulated from most of these stories, but they were nonetheless "out there" in the realm of the various urban legends that floated around this town, and I wasn't so naïve that I didn't know about Rita's reputation as a cougar. Since I was going to college in a different city now, all that was long behind me.

That was years ago too, mind you, when a student would actually have wanted to fuck Rita or my mother. Now that they're 54 and 55 years old respectively, it's doubtful either one of them could bed a young stud. I, of course, would be happy to lay down with either one of the lovely ladies. My mother especially.

Physically, they weren't really similar. Rita had a small face and an even smaller frame. She was quite pretty, with a square face that was highlighted with short dirty blonde hair. Tiny pert breasts topped off her narrow, flat tummy, which rose from her non-existent hips, which in turn led to a pair of small, almost bony legs. Her pasty inner thighs were just a little bit floppy now, and her tanned skin wasn't nearly as taught as it once had been, sagging now in all the right places. I'd love to nail the old party girl though.

Beth was much softer in looks, and much prettier. She was very much the Jaclyn Smith type, if you can remember that far back. A pretty, motherly face with huge brown eyes that sometimes still hid under the brown bangs of her wavy, shoulder length hair. Her boobs were fatter than Rita's but not by much, providing a much fuller and more inviting cleavage. Her tummy, once flat as a board, now had the faintest pot on it, not a big one but a little more meat than your typical twenty year old. She wasn't fat by any means but she had widened somewhat over the years, if you know what I mean.

Their bums were delightful. Mom's was wide and flat while Rita's looked small and bony in comparison. Both were soft and round enough though, and they worked well for them. Their legs were nice and smooth, with shapely calves on both of the ladies. Beth had a couple burst veins on her legs now and she too was a little sloppy on the inside thigh, but her gams were flattening in the back in the nicest of ways.

I was fascinated by the rumours about Rita, and of course by the complementary rumours about my mother, but I had never seen any indication that these women were anything but two normal, suburban, middle class, respectable ladies. Surely they had a completely innocent friendship and any rumours about their extra-marital sex lives were just stories out of school intended to take a shot a hard-nosed teacher. I always wondered how my mother's name got involved in the plot, though, since she never worked after her kids had been born, and so she really wasn't known around town. In any event, stories about both of the ladies had once provided my endless wanking fantasies to spur on my horny young mind.

Fast forward about fifteen years and you arrive at the present day, when Rita has retired and she and my mother spend their days shopping and eating lunch. Good work if you can get it! I was visiting home for a few weeks last summer, catching up with old friends and re-visiting the hang outs of my youth, but had become horribly bored after the second week and really didn't know what to do with myself. On one particular day, Rita was having some work done on her house's foundation, and my mom was over there to keep her company while the repair work was being done. With nothing else on the go, I decided to walk over to Rita's place to have an afternoon drink with my mother and her old friend.

There was a work truck in the driveway of course, some masonry outfit. I walked along the side of the house to the back gate, figuring that's where the girls were hanging out. Rita has a huge grassy back yard, with a cozy patio up near the back entrance to her kitchen, and a tall hedge lining the outside of the entire property. As I walked around the corner into the yard, the girls were at the other end of the house, outside, watching the workers digging up Rita's foundation, and chatting amicably. I leaned one shoulder against the back of the house and soaked up the view of these lovely, aging, fifty-something women.

My mother was wearing blue lycra shorts, far too short for a woman her age, but they displayed her shapely legs perfectly. Long but with what can only really be called baby fat, they weren't model-quality legs, but they certainly belonged on display. I loved the way they were widening just a bit in the back, and the way they flattened out and spread when she sat on the picnic table's bench. She was gently rocking her left leg side to side, obviously enjoying the view of the two workmen that she was soaking up, and this caused the slight pads of fat on the back of her thighs to flatten and spread over and over. I could imagine my mother's legs rocking in a similar fashion as she lay on her back, with me on top of her, slapping my pelvis against hers. Sitting there, she kind of reminded me of a schoolgirl sitting on a bench at lunch, watching the cute boy as she ate her sandwich. Except this girl was 40 years older than that imaginary schoolgirl!

Rita's legs, surprisingly, were very similar to Beth's, but even thinner. Hers didn't have the fullness of mother's but they too were softening as she got older, discolouring, and just starting to sag with age. Since Rita was wearing sophe shorts, I could make out the creamy white flab on her inner thighs as she sat chatting with my mother. My cock started to twitch.

The workers were an interesting pair in their own right. The guy in charge was about 35, a somewhat handsome black guy with a bit of beer belly, but not too much. His assistant was maybe twenty, a white guy with a harder body than his boss. It was an interesting mix, these two old ladies with these two younger fellows. Not having been seen by any of the players in the back yard, I decided to spy for a bit.

There was a high hedge that lined the perimeter of Rita's property, buttressed against her 8-foot wooden fence. Having played there as a kid, I knew that there was just barely enough room between the fence and the hedge for a person to walk between, and be hidden from both sides. So I went back to the gate to the backyard, and slipped behind the hedge. I walked up along the side of the fence until I had a good view of the ladies, gently pushed apart a couple branches, and peeked through to watch the show.

Rita had stood up to pour my mother another glass of wine. As she leaned over, I was treated to a view of the sides of her breasts as they hung forward. She had small tits, but they were tasty looking indeed. Very white, pasty sacks of meat hanging from her rib cage. Beth took her glass of wine and stood up, allowing me a view of her womanly silhouette, narrow up top, a little wider at the hips, and somewhat narrower again down below. She certainly made one want to breed her. She walked over to the workers, who were digging in a trench along the foundation of the house, and leaned over at the waist to talk to them. I had a full frontal view as she bent over. Her b-cups hung low like Rita's, but filled out her sleeveless top so much more nicely, as she had so much more boob to display. I was treated to a wonderful show of my mother's tempting cleavage, and it was clear that the workers were enjoying the view as well. I wondered what was going on, as mother must surely have known that she was putting her goods on display, and that wasn't like her at all.

The men, for their part, were eating the women with their eyes. They likely didn't spend much time flirting with women in their 50's but since they were the only show available right now, why not? The girls kept looking at each other and giggling while they flirted; it was a weird setup.

Rita and Beth went inside the house briefly, bringing a half-dozen beer with them on their return. I heard Rita suggest the guys take a break and join them at the picnic table. My mom Beth and the black guy sat beside each other while Rita and younger guy were side by side as well, across the table from my mother and her new friend. Neither guy had a shirt on, so it was a curious sight, these two older women drinking a beer with two younger, sweaty, shirtless workers. Again, my cock stirred at the sight and at the thought of infidelity. What would happen if my dear sweet mother followed this scenario through to its potential conclusion?

Rita either didn't share my concerns, or she did share them but wanted to indulge herself in some fun, because she reached over and rubbed the young guy's chest, commenting on how hard his muscles were. Taking the cue, he got up and started posing like a body builder, joking and smiling the whole time. Rita stood up and felt his muscles as he posed, rubbing his arms and chest, and laughing along with the kid as Beth and the black guy sat watching and laughing too. I heard Rita ask the young guy to come inside as she wanted to snap some photos for keepsakes, and the two of them walked into the house through the back door, arm in arm, leaving my mother alone with her "date".

Beth and black guy chatted for a while, I heard him mention how open and playful Rita seemed, and he asked if she was always like that. My mother laughed and leaned into the guy to answer, her hand falling on his leg as she whispered in his ear. I couldn't make out what she said, but I sure as heck noticed his arm rise up and come to rest on my mother's shoulder, him pulling her a little closer to him as they exchanged whispers and giggles. I was more than a little weirded out by the setting. My mother does not usually talk to strange men, let alone joke with them or whisper in their ears. She seemed so different than she does at home, more open, more playful, yes even more sexual, with her legs, shoulders and breasts on display, sitting intimately with a strange black man in a private setting while her best friend had disappeared inside with another younger fellow. As you might imagine, I was both disturbed and turned on by the site of my 55 year old mother sitting next to shirtless black man, and I was struck by the contrast of her white top and her alabaster skin next to the stark blackness of this guy's naked torso. It was surreal.

Rita had been inside for about 15 minutes by now, and Beth looked over her shoulder, and said she was going inside to see what's up. She left the black guy alone outside, although his eyes were glued to her wide ass as she walked into the house. Beth stole a glance over her shoulder just as she walked in the door, catching the guy staring at her bum, and they exchanged a knowing smile. Once she was inside, the guy rubbed his dick a few times, took a swig of beer, stood up, walked around the table for a bit, rubbed his dick some more, then went inside the house as well, leaving me alone in the hedge, with thoughts of my Beth's beautiful motherly body, of the possibility of her infidelity and its consequences, and with a rock hard boner poking against my shorts. I must have stood there hidden behind the bushes for 20 minutes, waiting for them to come out of the house so I could be assured that nothing was wrong, that this was a simply workday interaction between some contractors and their client. But they didn't come out, and enticing thoughts of my mother and sex raced through my mind.

As horrible as what was going on had the potential to be, it was so erotic for me to be thinking of my mother as a sexual creature, desired and pursued by other men. And the thought of her being willingly caught by one of those men, and the thought that she might soon be engaged in an illicit act of sweaty, sticky, desperate, savage, carnal sex, pushed my libido over the edge. I had to know what was going on.

I quietly stepped through the hedge and walked directly to the back door of Rita's house, then stopped and listened. If I was caught, it was no problem, as I would say that I was simply popping over for a visit - no harm in that. It was very quiet though, and when I put my face to the glass on the back door, no one could be seen inside. I gently opened the door, thanking the heavens that it didn't squeak, and stepped inside the house.

The back door led directly into the kitchen, which was empty, so I walked through to the other side, where a doorway led to the living room. There was no one in that room either, but there were certainly signs of life. A digital camera lay on the coffee, table, undoubtedly the one Rita had used to take pictures of the younger worker. I picked it up to review the photos in its memory, which were all of the young guy posing with his shirt off. The last photo showed him unbuckling his belt while pushing his hips forward. Obviously, Rita had had a good show from the kid!!

Putting the camera down, I looked around the living room to see what else I could find. More beer bottles, and a nearly-empty bottle of red wine on the coffee table. The girls had been drinking all afternoon, so they were primed when they came inside, but to go through a whole bottle of wine in about half an hour meant some real power drinking.

Then, bang, I saw something that took the wind out of me, a bra lying beside the couch! Jackpot – here was my proof that one of the lovely ladies was much less innocent than she let one. But which one? Probably Rita, I guessed. The young worker would have put on a little strip tease for her, grinding his crotch up against her while she bumped back at him, and they would then have grabbed one another, groped each other's bumps, kissed, and soon enough Rita would have either stripped herself, or been stripped by the young guy, who would then paw her pasty white naked breasts, suck her hardening nipples, and sweep her into his arms, their lips locked together as he carried her upstairs to ravage her worn out old body. So she was a slut after all!! The rumours were confirmed. But my stomach dropped when I looked in the corner of the room and saw, to my horror and to my delight, another bra lying on the floor. One of those bras obviously belonged to my sweet, caring, demure, married mother!!

I walked over and picked up this second bra, which was a small b-cup, bigger than Rita's and pretty much the size my mother would wear. And as I bent over to pick it up, I saw her tank top lying behind the couch, seemingly having been casually tossed there as the black worker peeled the clothing off my mother in preparation for the sinful act which was surely to follow. Fuck I was turned on. I could picture the worker and my mother holding each other in Rita's living room, slowly dancing to imaginary music, their bodies pressed against one another as their hands explored each other's warmer bits, his large black hands gently squeezing her wide bum as he pulled her mound against his hardening cock, teasing her and making her moisten and whimper. Soon enough, her lips, so pouty and wet, the lips that had kissed me innocently for so many years, would have pressed against his large mouth, blood rushing to their loins as their lips met and they exchanged fluids for the first time.

He would have pulled her harder against him as their tongues darted into each others' mouths, hesitantly at first then violently and urgently, his cock hardening even more as her aged body continued to pump more fluids to her pussy, her body knowing instinctively that it was about to be violated, penetrated by a massive intruder which would need extra lubrication to reach the depths leading to my mother's sacred womb. I wondered whether he picked her up to carry her to the bedroom, or if they held hands as they raced each other to the back of the house to lay down together and make a zebra-coloured, swirling, grunting beast on one of Rita's beds.

I dropped the bra and headed towards the back of the house, still not seeing or hearing anyone else. There was a pair of blue polyester shorts lying on the landing at the top of the stairs. Beth's shorts. So they must have run upstairs together, my mother peeling off her clothing as she jogged to the back rooms, eager to get right down to business when they reached the bedroom.

I walked up the stairs towards the back bedrooms, careful not to make the stairs squeak. It was oh so quiet. There were five doors along the upstairs hallway that I was looking down. The two doors on the right were bedrooms, I knew that from having been in the house before. The first door on the left was a large closet, the second door on the left was the upstairs bath, and the master bedroom was the last door on the left; it overlooked the back yard.

The door to the first bedroom was wide open and it was empty, no action there, so I crept further down the hall. The door to the second bedroom was half closed, so I pressed my back against the hallway wall, my heart beating like a drum and in my head it sounded so loud I was sure it could be heard on the street. Was I about to see my mother getting fucked? I slowly peered around the doorway, the bed coming into view little by little, my pulse racing faster and faster. But this room was empty as well. No action going on in it.

That left door number three, the master bedroom. She had to be there, since the bathroom was empty, and it was definitely her shorts lying at the top of the stairs. I looked back at those shorts, casually strewn on the landing as if my mother stripped off her shorts for strange men every day, as if peeling her pants off prior to casual sex with a stranger was a normal occurrence that didn't warrant any special attention. But where were Rita and her lover, then? Probably in the basement bedroom or in the family room downstairs, on that big comfy couch they had down there. It was perfect for raw animal sex. I turned my head back towards the door to the master bedroom, which was open just a crack. Darkness poured through the crack in that door, and I had to see what lay beyond it.

When I slowly and quietly pulled the bedroom door open, I could not have been more richly rewarded. There in perfect profile was my lovely mother, naked, lying on her back crossways on the bed, her head hanging over the side of the bed, her eyes squeezed shut and her soft, pretty face twisted in pleasure, with a naked black man's head buried in her hairy pussy, ravaging her womanhood with his mouth. The adulterous scene was exquisite. My stomach was in knots, mind you, knowing that this was my freaking mother getting eaten out in front of me, but it was a beautiful sight.

My mother's left leg, the one further away from the doorway where I stood, was bent upwards at the knee, rhythmically rocking back and forth as her left hand playfully rubbed the top of the worker's hair, occasionally moving down to her pussy to stimulate herself and help the worker bring her pussy closer to flooding. Her right leg was straight out beneath her, the workers' black hand gently rubbing the side of her thigh as his tongue worked her frothy pussy. Beth's right arm was flung beside her head, her right hand gripping the edge of the mattress as her body fluttered at the attention it was receiving down below. That image will be forever engrained in my mind, the first image I ever had of my darling mother enthralled in the throes of passion. I had never thought of her as a sexual creature before, but here she was, enjoying a robust tongue lashing, proving me wrong.

Her stuttered breathing soon gave way to shorter, more frequent breaths, and she put both her hands on top of the guy's head. Her head jerked upwards, her eyes opened wide, and an initial, sharp moan escaped her lips. It sent tingling tremors down my spine. Soon it was followed by another, more urgent moan of passion as the guy's rhythmic licking brought my mother closer to orgasm. She started softly wailing, the musical whine of her groans resounding off the walls of the bedroom. Her singing became more and more uniform and she scrunched her legs up tightly around the black guys' head, her tiny feet dangling in the air as her thighs flattened and widened. The small rolls of baby fat on her white tummy squished against each other as she looked down at the top of the workers' head, now swirling feverishly as he brought her closer. The smell must have been overwhelming for him, his face buried between this drunk 55 year old white woman's crotch as her creamy thighs squeezed his skull, drawing his face deeper into her womanhood.