Mom Dee Nicole & Me

Dee:

Again and again, the string of excuses and near-kisses came back to me:

I just think this...is okay.

I can't risk it. Not with you.

What if it doesn't work out? What then?

Friday went by in a haze of stretches, being screamed at as I dove in and came out of the water, drifting in and out of conversations on autopilot. Hazel chewed me out about my time, my form, and about how the tryouts were six months away...

And all I could think of was all the times we practiced kissing during high school, all the things he'd told me after every failed date, about Nicole and his Mom setting him up with her...

"Dee"

About the way, he tasted on my tongue when I finally placed my lips on his cock...

"Earth to Dee," Hazel's voice came into focus from somewhere far away and I made a polite noise as if I was listening. She didn't buy it, of course. Hazel had that built-in bullshit detector that swim instructors do, worse than any teacher or mom in the world. She had that kind of withering cat stare, emerald green eyes set against dark skin boring into your soul. It didn't help that she was mostly all muscle, built like a bullwhip with two legs, either "what's eating you?"

"Nothing," I lied. Hazel gave me the Look again and I fumbled with my swimming cap before I said "Okay, okay. It's...it's this guy."

"I thought we'd talked about keeping personal drama to a minimum," Hazel said matter-of-factly, pulling off her cap. She had a head full of kinky, auburn hair that made her look like a pinup model straight out of a magazine centerfold. Even after a year of training with her, I'd still find myself gawking at her when I thought she wasn't looking.

Who was I kidding? Of course she knew.

"I know, okay? It's just...I've known the guy forever and I don't know how he feels about me. Or if I should feel anything about him," I said.

"Why not?" Hazel asked, shrugging. I tried not to stare as she pulled down her bathing suit, revealing her tight body under the wet cloth that had clung to her. She placed her hands on her waist, letting me get an eyeful. Was she smiling?

"Well, his parents broke up when he was in elementary school and I guess it messed him up a little. Didn't help that his Mom is a bit of a control freak," I said, pulling off my swimming suit, glancing over to see that gleam in Hazel's eye. I wondered how much longer we'd have to tease each other before either of us would admit it.

"He sounds like a mess," Hazel said, searching for her clothes in her bag, pulling a tight top on her. I watched the way it hugged her breasts and her belly, the way her nipples poked against the fabric. I walked toward her, pretending to reach for a towel, letting my body brush up against hers. She didn't move entirely out of the way "hope he's hot at least."

"He's okay, I guess. Bit of a gym buff. But it's just the stuff he can make you do..." I said, thinking back to me in the bathroom, shaving him, his voice on the call, the way he made me want to touch myself.

"Sounds like he's riding roughshod all over you," Hazel said, our bodies still pressed against each other. I lingered still, pretending to look for a towel, loving her warmth against me. I wondered what she'd do if I pushed myself back against her "or maybe you're just letting him."

"Okay, because I can like, just get over it, thanks," I said, turning to face her. Hazel only smiled, pushing a lock of hair away from my forehead. It made a chill run down my spine.

"What I'm saying is: at some point, you either shit or you get off the pot," Hazel said, pulling away from me to pull on her panties and shorts, before heading for the door "I think it's time you got this sorted."

I stared at her as she went, before checking my phone. The calls had piled on, one on top of the other, the messages. I tapped the call button, about to call him back, maybe drive to his house and get this whole thing over with before Nicole the MILF would beat me to it when the message came:

Can't call me a virgin after tomorrow.

***

Sara:

Friday was a march of pure embarrassment, as I fumbled my way through one faux pas after another while trying to avoid Nicole's cold stare.

"I expect that your son can...perform accordingly?" she'd said, first thing in the morning like I was supposed to know whatever the hell Liam was capable of.

"I thought you'd gotten a pretty good idea by now," I said, awkwardly, realizing she might know that I'd kept an eye on them from the kitchen. Just to make sure he'd behave, I'd told myself.

Just business. No nonsense. Didn't enjoy that one bit, a little nagging voice came from the back of my head as I thought back to the way Liam and Nicole kissed on the couch, how she led him along as they. He'd caught on fast, hadn't he?

Faster than his father anyway, the little voice in the back of my head said and I'd waved it off, thinking back to how my son had attacked Nicole with his kisses, sticking too much tongue in there. He'd been clumsy, but passionate, like his father had been. If Nicole was lucky, he probably made love like him too...

"Hardly. Just some...petting. Had some promise, but I'm not working on promises, am I?" Nicole said, looking up at me from her desk, her tone and stance shifted to full-on 'boss bitch mode', the kind that made me weak at the knees. I tried to mumble a response, as Nicole walked around her desk and ran her hands over the front of my jacket, straightening some imaginary crease.

"Damn right you aren't," I said, taking in Nicole's scent, the curve of her neck, feeling ready to jump at her every touch. It had been five years since the last time we'd come this close but I'd remembered it like it was yesterday.

How she'd made me crawl and beg; like an animal...again the voice, but I didn't fight it, as Nicole leaned into my ear.

"Then I trust you'll do what you can. There's a lot riding on him," Nicole said, whispering in my ear and I felt myself flooding at the sound of her voice even as the stress hit me like a runaway car.

"Of course," I said, then made up an excuse and locked myself in the executive bathroom. Checking my panties only to find them soaked, I pulled them off me and the thought came to me, without warning:

It can't be that bad...

And before I knew it, I was running my finger between my legs, parting the folds biting my lips as I reached my nub and flicked it, shivering with pleasure. How long had it been since I'd touched myself like that? Since anybody had made me like that?

Last Wednesday. When you were peeping at Nicole and your so-

"No, before that," I whispered to myself, even as my fingers circled my clit, then slid down again, my wetness making soft, sopping sounds in the bathroom stall.

April. That man from the bar.

I sighed as I teased my entrance. He'd been a stranger, his name gone from my mind as soon as I'd left his home, along with his lovemaking. Why had I picked him?

He did look a little like your son, didn't he?

The little voice in my head said and I whimpered as I slid a finger inside me, hooking it deeply. My free hand reached down to pinch my nipple and I tugged at it hard, twisting it even as I fingered myself deeply, teasing my g-spot, trying to think about the man from the bar, his lips brushing against mine as he filled me, his cock throbbing inside as I bucked my hips against him. He threw his head back as he came, his cum coating my naked belly, and when he looked back down...

Liam's face stared back at me.

No.

My cunt spasmed and my knees buckled as the first wave of an orgasm hit me, but I cut it off, clenching my teeth to keep my moan from turning into a whimper. This was wrong. This wasn't me, I told myself, as I stomped out of the stall and didn't dare look at myself in the mirror before I headed back to my office.

***

Dee:

It wasn't the drink that made me dumb, but sure as hell did help. It took about five beers before I got a buzz going and by then, I'd found myself outside Mr. B's gym, an hour before closing.

I can't have you, can I? I wrote out on my phone but never hit the Send button

I'd been at the place years ago, back when it was just a five-room affair that Mr. B lived out of, after the divorce. We'd hang around there, acting like regulars, trying to get anyone we knew to sign up until work picked up.

Today, the gym was as large as a warehouse and Mr.B lived on the upper floor, inside a bachelor pad twice the size of my parents' house. He'd pulled his life together, but never remarried. I guess he'd been a one-woman-man kind of guy.

I want you, but you won't let me, I wrote down the next line.

The receptionist barely noticed me as I walked inside, hard at work flirting with a himbo pedaling away at the stationary bike. The entire place reeked of sweat and machine oil and industrial-strength air freshener, the air filled with the sound of trashy euro beat songs, perfect for keeping up the reps.

It's okay. I'll manage; I just hope you'll forgive me, I typed out, then deleted the entire thing.

"Can I help you?" Mr. B's voice finally came from behind, while I tried one of the bench press machines, struggling against the weights.

"Hey Mr. B, you probably don't remember me, but..."

"Dee, right? You hang out with my son?" He said, smiling "he's not here tonight."

"It's okay," I said, looking him over, realizing how much they looked like spitting images of each other. Sure, Mr. B was bulkier, his muscles more filled out from years of pumping iron, a streak of grey in his full head of hair. My eyes wandered to his chest, where his shirt clung to it, showing off his sculpted pecks and hard stomach "just wanted to say hi."

"Well, hi then," Mr. B said, then after noticing his receptionist goofing off with the himbo "excuse me a second."

I watched him go, staring at his muscled back, the strong legs. Something inside me whispered a warning, but I didn't listen.

***

Sara:

I left the office, avoiding Nicole for the first time in years before I hopped into my car. Reaching the parkway, I signaled the left turn that would take me back home, then changed my mind. I couldn't go back just yet. Not if Liam was awake.

Can't risk it, the little voice in my head said and I tried to shoot it away, then changed the blinker, heading the other way. I was taking a turn without thinking when I finally said:

"Risk what?" realizing how stupid I sounded to myself, the little voice coming back with

Jumping his bones.

I braked hard, swerving the car to the side of the road, the driver tailing me barely avoiding me as he sped away into the night. In the quiet, broken only by the purring of the car's engine, I inched my hand down my skirt, checking my wetness, finding myself soaked. Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on something else: spreadsheets, presentations, kittens, the Korean account, but the image of his face, looking into mine as he came...

My son's face.

For the second time in God knows how long, I began to tease my clit, flicking it, circling it. I shuddered in the car, teasing myself to the edge of an orgasm, feeling about to explode. I bucked my hips as I felt it build inside me then...nothing.

It won't do.

"No. No no no, I just have to-" I told the little voice in my head and it came back with:

No substitute for the real thing, the voice came again and my eyes went wide, realizing it was true.

"I can't...I'm not that...he's my son, I can't-" I mumbled and the voice in my head came back with:

There's always the next best thing.

I froze, staring out into nothing, then checked the time: 9 PM. Without thinking, I drove the car back to the road then took the next exit to a place I'd sworn to myself I'd never go to unless it was life or death.

Funny how it felt like it, at that time.

***

Dee:

"You're still here?" Mr. B asked, looking over his shoulder as he killed the tunes and began to shut off the lights across the gym.

"Thought I'd stick around. Catch up," I said. Mr. B looked at me like I was so full of shit my eyes were brown.

"What did Liam do?" he said, as he rearranged the dumbbells and began to reset the machines.

"What? No, he's uh...he's fine. I think the trouble's with me," I said as I tried to pull one of the bars up, barely managing to get it an inch of the ground before I had to let it drop. Mr. B took it off my hands and began to unscrew the weights. He smelled like sweat and grease and a hint of cigarette ash.

"Not from where I'm standing," Mr. B said, looking me over. I blushed, despite myself, feeling his gaze as it moved over me. I tried to think of something else, but then I watched his hands pull the weights up like they were nothing, stacking them up along the shelf "that boy is a damn fool if he can't see the way you look at him."

"He just doesn't want to hurt me," I said, feeling suddenly defensive, taking a step toward Mr. B. If he felt me, he didn't move.

"Except he is," Mr. B said as I stood behind him, running my hands across his back, feeling the hard muscles underneath, reaching around his sides.

"He doesn't mean it. That's me. Just me," I said as I wrapped my hands around his waist and pressed my body against him, feeling his hard body on me, taking in his scent. It made my knees go weak.

"You're making a mistake," Mr. B said as my hands moved down his belly, finding the bulge that swelled in his thin sweatpants. It filled my hands already but I could tell it wasn't done. Just like his son.

He'd have to do if I couldn't have the real deal.

"It's okay, it's not your fault," I said, as Mr. B turned around and I fell onto my knees, bringing my face up against the bulge that tented up his pants, my hands exploring the length of it, feeling the veins that pulsed underneath. I hooked up my hands against the waistband and pulled down, revealing the trimmed bush of hair, the curve of his meat, itching to spring out. Mr. B's hands grasped mine.

"Just once," he said. I moaned, nodding as I tugged down, revealing more and more of his length, kissing and lapping my way along the veiny length of him until only the head remained. When it finally sprang free, I felt it slap against my cheek, a thick trail of precum dripping off the end of it. I opened my mouth to take it in, but Mr. B's hands grasped a handful of my hair holding me back "say it."

"Yes," I whimpered, sticking my tongue out to lap at the tip like a dog, but Mr. B maintained the grip, holding me back.

"Say it," he said, even as my hands moved up his thighs, cupping his balls, teasing more of the precum to drip from the tip.

"Just this once," I promised and he let me go, opening wide to swallow his cock, as wide and big as his son's, taking the spongy cockhead into the back of my throat and sucking on it, using my tongue against the underside to ease inch after inch down my throat, feeling it fill me. I choked spit dribbling from my lips as Mr. B's hand caressed my hair and whispered "easy, easy."

I pulled back for a breather, then grasped his shaft, lapping down along the length of it, breathing through my nose, easing him halfway into my throat. I stared up to watch his eyes roll back, groaning like an animal as I swallowed his cock, bobbing my head on it, using both hands to work the shaft. I savored his precum and wondered if he knew how alike they both tasted, the thought of taking them both down my throat making my cunt flood with juices.

Mr. B's hands grasped the back of my head, taking clumps of my hair in his hands, and began to move me, making me pick up speed. Wet, gulping noises came from my mouth as I took him, my spit flowing down on his shaft to pool in the floor as he began to build a rhythm, using my face. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I took him desperately, feeling his cock tighten, about to explode...

Before he pulled me off his cock, just as a single drop of cum shot from the tip, dripping down the head and onto the floor.

"What? Why did..." I began, as Mr. B. pulled me up bodily, and laid me on the bench, tearing my sweatpants off to reveal my barely-there thong, already soaked through. He tore away at it and I watched as he brought his lips down to kiss his way down my belly, across my thighs. By the time I could feel his hot breath against my wet lips, I was already shivering, grasping his head, silently begging for his kiss.

And then his tongue lapped up across my slit, from hole to clit. I whimpered as I felt his tongue lap at it, tasting me deeply, then his lips kissing, sucking my nub before he descended again, sliding his tongue inside me, tonguefucking and kissing me. I howled as he matched my movements, working his lips and tongue with me, filling me. His hands grasped my thighs and pushed them up and apart and he dove deeper into my cunt, filling me with his tongue. When his thumb finally flicked my clit, I howled like an animal, shivering all over, feeling him push back against me as I spasmed and bucked against him, before he finally let me go.

"What...are we done?" I barely managed to say as Mr. B hauled me off the bench, leading me up the stairs to his home. I dropped down at the entryway and leaned in to kiss him, but he simply pushed me back through the half-open door, inside the living room. I followed, my legs still shaking, my hands seeking his cock, stiffer than ever.

***

Sara:

The gym was dark, the sound of me fumbling with the keys almost deafening in the silence. Slowly, I made my way around the machines, the racks of weights and benches, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

Maybe if I sneak up on him, he won't think about it, I told myself, feeling like an idiot as I headed toward the sliver of light spilling from the open door on the other end, only to find the pair of sweatpants and the thong dropped on the floor at the edge of it.

I blinked slowly, then poked at it stupidly as if it were alive. The fabric was still wet and hadn't gone entirely cold yet. Whoever was here with him was...around.

I should go, the little voice said, even as I folded the tiny, wet thong and the sweatpants, placing them on the bench. They'll probably want some time alone, it went on, as I tiptoed across the floor, taking off my shoes so I could make my way up the stairs, nearing the door, where I could hear Roy's deep animal grunt, the kind he used to make when we were together, the sound of two bodies smashing together, the whimpering of some girl.

That's far enough, the little voice warned me but I still stopped by the door and peeked, just in time to see Roy on the bed, laid on top of some young little hussy, her legs splayed wide and apart, his body slamming against hers as he drove her down against the mattress. I looked at his cock, as it sawed in and out of her, covered in her juices: no condom.

"Typical," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, watching and Roy switched gears, driving himself inside the little slut, grinding himself inside her.

"Fuuuucckk you're so deep!" she groaned, shuddering like a stuck pig as his cock slammed inside her, the only sound her panting and the wet noises her cunt made, hiding my own panting as I teased my nipples over my shirt. My fingers slipped inside me and I fingered myself deeply, trying to match his rhythm as it picked up again. This time, Roy turned the girl sideways, letting me catch a glimpse of her face, her mouth hanging open as his cock slid in and out of her, his fingers squeezing her breasts, tugging at her nipples.

I froze, as our eyes met for a moment, recognizing each other. Dee!

Without stopping. little slut matched his pace, driving herself against him with every motion, matching his speed until another orgasm overtook her and her cunt flooded again. She howled as she pushed herself back onto his cock and I watched as Roy's balls tightened about to cum and for a moment, teetering at the edge of an orgasm I wished he'd fill the little whore with his seed, but Roy pulled out and groaned like an animal, his cum coating her belly, her shirt, drops of it shooting on Dee's face.