M. DeSantis - Her Foxy Mom

"Uh, sorry about that," Charlene said and quickly strode out of the store and into the lobby. There she paused, indecisive. Her mother had undoubtedly taken it to the dry cleaner on the way to work and forgotten.

Or did she?

Charlene pushed that out of her mind. The pressing question was whether or not she'd be able to walk the three blocks to the other location, pick up the garment and return in time for her date. Even with the note, Tim might not wait.

And that's assuming he can read. The note, that is.

She decided that she was already on the ground floor. If she hurried, Tim wouldn't have to wait more than five or six minutes at the most. Tossing her lovely, titian hair back over her shoulders, Charlene strode quickly through the lobby doors and out onto the street.

The walk over to the dry cleaner was an adventure in hassles. She couldn't pass a male – single or in groups – without hearing:

"Hey-bayyyyy-bee! Wanna get your pussy sucked?"

Or:

"What's the rush, honey? Let's you and me discuss literature -like Masters and Johnson!"

She knew she drew attention to herself. The hot shorts showed off her legs – abundantly. The halter top accentuated the size and perfection of form of her luscious tits – and did nothing to conceal or restrain their bounciness with each long-legged stride. And her hair, drawn back by a cloth headband to flow long and loose down her back, drew stares the way homey draws flies.

She came to the dry cleaners, then frowned in consternation. The door was locked. The store hours said they closed at seven.

It's already seven?

Charlene turned and started back towards home, this time completely oblivious to the horn-blowing of a pair of young men in an old, beat-up Chevy trying to get her attention, oblivious to the hooting of a young man on a delivery boy's bicycle, oblivious to the slurping sounds directed at her by a pair of middle-aged men carrying tool boxes and wearing the uniforms of plumbers.

She wooshed through the lobby doors of her building, hurried past the closed and closing shops and leaped into an elevator just before the doors closed. She mentally cursed every stop between the lobby level and her floor.

Finally, she was leaving the elevator. Now she dared to run with no eyes to watch her, tits bouncing wildly with their size and heft, almost jiggling completely free of her halter.

No Tim. And no note on her door.

Oh, shit.

She reached into her pocket, took out her key and turned it. The moment she stepped into the apartment, she heard the sounds of two voices.

"Come on, Tim – don't be afraid." Her mother's voice.

Mom?

"But -"

"Don't be afraid, Tim. Let me get a good look at you with your clothes -"

Charlene stepped into her mother's bedroom – and gaped.

Her mother: wearing only a dressing robe and the front of it wide open, exhibiting all of her mother's more than adequate curves and charms.

Tim: standing naked before her mother, holding his briefs in his hand. As if he'd just removed them.

"Oh, hello, Charlene," her mother said in a relaxed voice. "Did you get -"

Tim, who hadn't noticed Charlene's entrance, spun towards her, holding his briefs over his groin in a ludicrous imitation of modesty. He paled, then blushed furiously. What made the attempt at concealment even more ludicrous was that Tim was hung like a horse and his huge prick was at full, rampant erection. The stiff, fleshy pole jabbed out beneath the draping cover of the briefs, accentuating, rather than diminishing, his nudity.

And arousal.

"Don't worry, Charlene," she heard her mother saying. "I won't hurt him. Did you know -"

"Charlene," Tim said quickly, "I – uum, uh, er -"

"Oh, now don't you worry, Tim. Charlene won't mind. Charlene believes in sharing – don't you, Charlene?"

Charlene closed her gaping mouth, thought furiously.

So this was how her mother was getting even: by seducing Tim right under her own nose. Evidently, this whole thing had been planned and held in abeyance for the right moment for some time.

Well, she's not going to get away with it – I won't let her.

On the other hand, there wasn't much Charlene could do to stop it. The only way out, she knew, was to deny her mother the satisfaction of seeing her upset at it.

And that's just a matter of acting.

"Why, not a bit, Tim – you go right ahead and enjoy yourself with my mother. She's one of the best fucks in New York City. Ask any prick you meet. Right Mom?"

Her mother's answer was accompanied by a smile of sweet savagery matched only by her tone: "Ahh, but my Charlene certainly does have an eye for the finer things in life. After all, she could well be considered an expert on such matters – isn't that right, dear?"

"I bow to your years, Mother – deeply. Please proceed."

Her mother seemed to hesitate, if only slightly, at Charlene's invitation to get on with it – something Charlene suspected and certainly hoped her mother had never counted on happening.

None the less, her mother did proceed.

During the exchange, Tim's lovely big cock had lost some of its hardness; seemed to have deflated quite perceptibly.

Her mother's first moves were calculated to restore that rigidity.

"See, Tim, a woman's body comes complete with many features lacking in those of a girl. Watch closely."

He was all eyes.

Her mother then proceeded to perform an elaborate and totally improvised strip for the young man – an accomplishment in itself, considering that she was only wearing the unlashed robe to begin with.

Nevertheless, her mother went right on with it, moving about the bedroom's confines with grace and ease, exhibiting all the youthful suppleness in her firm body to its best advantage while simultaneously displaying the ripe abundance of her curves in a way that would have put many strippers and exotic dancers to shame.

By the time she finally got down to the bottom of actually removing the robe, Tim's breath was coming fast and shallow and his cock was beating hard and strong.

She finished with a deep, mock curtsey that left her on one knee before the aroused – and bewildered – young man.

With her face just about on a level with his prick.

"And a woman," she husked, sliding her hands up Tim's long, strong, muscle-hard legs, "understands exactly what to do with her body to please a man – especially a young, virile man."

Her hands reached the young man's hips, then flattened, fingers splaying, as they began sliding around to his flat abdomen.

Charlene found herself getting turned on as she watched. She couldn't say exactly why. Perhaps she was identifying with her mother. She was certainly wishing that it was herself down there in licking range of Tim's prick. His dong was a good seven- or eight-incher and looked to be quite thick as well. Erected, it stood out from his body at an angle just slightly above parallel with the floor and the complexion of it was such a deep red that it bordered on the brownish -giving it the appearance of a sausage in her mind.

A fresh sausage, ready to eat.

Her mother was leaning forward, lips puckered and blowing lightly across the thick, purplish knob at the end of his dick. Her fingers were toying with his thick pubic hair. His cock jerked and throbbed ominously, like a restless animal about to strike.

She began moving her fingers about the base of his shaft, then trailing her well-manicured nails gently down the length of it.

Charlene tore her eyes from the point of contact to look at Tim's face. He appeared ready to go into a seizure of some kind.

Her mother's fingers opened and then closed again – this time gripping Tim's dick about halfway down towards the thick base. She leaned forward, licked her lips to wet them – and then placed a soft, easy kiss on the very tip of his meat.