My Girlfriend's MILF (2 page)

4

T
he porch is empty when I pull up to Beth Carson’s house. Not surprising, because it is late fall and the winds have picked up. It is about sixty degrees outside, but the sun is almost down, and it might get chilly. Perfect weather to sit close together on the couch, maybe light a fire and get the room all hot, watch the light from the flickering flames highlight Beth Carson’s naked body as I suck on her breasts and finger her till she’s wet and completely in my control.

I turn off the engine and sit in my truck for a few minutes. What the fuck am I doing here? Did I seriously just drive three hours thinking I am going to be able to fuck this heavenly MILF, my girlfriend’s forty-year-old mom? What do I say to her? Where do I begin?

Do I just knock on the front door, my hard cock in my hand, like in those ridiculous porno movies? Will she be half-naked too, already wet because she’s been touching herself, all alone in the living room? Will she go down to her knees immediately, grab my cock and start jerking me off as I look at her incredible tits from above? Will she suck me off right there in the doorway, with people honking their horns as they drive by? Will she let me cum on her boobs, smiling up at me as I convulse in ecstasy?

What the fuck am I doing here? How is this going to work?

I don’t care, I decide. I’m here, and I’m going in. I don’t give a fuck anymore. One way or another, I’m going in.

5

I
stand outside the front door, staring at the doorbell like I am in a dream. I am nervous, but most certainly excited. She’ll be into it, I tell myself. After all, I’m not a bad looking guy—I have no shortage of chicks shamelessly hitting on me at some of those parties at college. Everyone knows that I’m with Mindy, but that doesn’t stop some chicks from offering me blowjobs or handjobs, asking to touch my abs, feel my biceps. Usually that’s all fun, but these past few months I’ve had a one-track mind. My entire routine since going back to college this year has been filled with jerking off and working out at the gym.

So she’ll be into it, I think again as I look down at myself. I am wearing a tight black Gap t-shirt, the kind with sleeves that end above the bicep. My arms are tight and rippling with veins. My fingernails are short and clean, perfect for sticking into someone’s mouth, pussy, or asshole. My hair is messy, but I am clean shaven and my breath is fresh. I tighten my stomach, and I can feel my ab-muscles harden as they contract. I am in great shape, I tell myself. She’ll be into it.

And so maybe all I need to do is be honest, I say to myself. I need to just fucking TELL her what I’m here for. Give her no option. Assume that she wants the same thing. I mean, I’ve seen her look at me—the same way so many women look at me. Every night there are probably ten women on this earth who are rubbing their clits and filling their pussies with vibrators as they think of me. Beth Carson is human, and no doubt she’s thought about it. Fuck, yes, she’ll be into it, I tell myself one more time.

And then I ring the doorbell.

6

B
eth Carson answers the door in a robe. The robe is open at the front, and I am surprised to see that she is wearing pajamas. The pajamas are black silk, but still, it seems a bit early to be getting ready for the night. It is only seven, and the sun is only just going down.

“Richie?” she says, blinking in surprise. “What’s going on?” Then her expression changes. “Oh, God, did something happen? Is Mindy all right?”

“Oh, shit, yeah, Ms. Carson,” I say hurriedly. “I mean no. I mean Mindy’s fine. She’s good. Nothing’s wrong.”

Beth Carson exhales loudly, and I smell the pungent aroma of alcohol on her breath. For a moment I feel my heartrate speed up as I wonder if perhaps this is going to go smoothly. Perhaps she’s already feeling ready to open up, to let me in. This is going to be more straightforward than I could have imagined.

Confidence surges through me as I look at her in the eye. She returns my gaze, and I try to look for something in her expression that is an invitation, an acknowledgement that we are both adults and it’s clear what’s about to happen here.

But she averts her eyes and steps back into the house, holding the door open. “Come on in,” she says.

I enter, brushing past her as I walk into the living room. I turn and look at her, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting in the room. She smiles and gathers her robe around her, tying the waistband firmly, and now I can see her womanly figure outlined clearly. She must not be wearing a bra, I think as I watch her tits move beneath the thin cloth of her silk robe. Her boobs look heavier than normal, and I want to reach out and pinch them, find those nipples through the cloth, squeeze them until they are hard and pointy, just the way I like them.

“I was just watching some TV,” she says now, smiling as if embarrassed for a moment. But she quickly regains her composure. “I’m rarely home on Friday nights, but I’m feeling a bit under the weather, so I thought I’d just stay in and watch a movie with a warm glass of brandy.”

“Sounds great,” I say, walking over to the seating area where there is a large blue couch, a wooden coffee table that’s painted black, and two green leather recliners at each side of the couch. The TV is on with the volume muted. It is some movie with Gwyneth Paltrow, I think.

I stand in the middle of the carpet, staring at the TV for a moment, then looking around the room. I am not sure what my next move is. I can’t read her body language clearly, and it never occurred to me that she’d be alarmed when I showed up, worried that something terrible had happened. Maybe that threw off the mood a bit.

Still, I am here now, and there is no turning back. This is happening, one way or the other. The prize goes to the one that’s bold, I tell myself as I turn around and smile at her.

Beth Carson is standing at the entryway, a solitary lightbulb behind her throwing shadows that highlight her sharp features, dark hair, and wonderfully curved figure. I want her to drop that robe, to start unbuttoning her silk pajama top, to undo the string on her thin, delicate pants. I want to see those heavy, full breasts under that yellow light, I want to smell her wet, juicy cunt in the air.

“Can I get you something, Richie?” she says. The words come out slowly, like perhaps she understands why I am here but is nonetheless still trying to process it.

Certainly there must be a lot going through her mind, I think as I stare at her in the dim yellow light. It’s one thing for her to want to fuck a guy twenty years younger than her, and it’s another thing when the guy is your daughter’s lover. If this happens, it could hurt a lot of people. It could destroy Mindy’s relationship with her mother, perhaps even her sister. It would certainly kill our relationship. Who knows what other ripple effects would occur? What if our friends and neighbors found out? My parents? This is a small town, and it could be a shitstorm of rumor and judgment if this happens and people find out. Is it worth it? Is it worth risking so much just to get a chance to kiss those lips, suck on those tits, fuck that slit?

Well, isn’t that what makes it so wonderfully arousing? I tell myself. That we’re risking so much for filthy, physical pleasure?

Fuck yes, I decide as I take one more look at the outline of her tits, the shape of her hips, the contours of her lips. Fuck yes, it’s worth it!

7

“I
’ll have what you’re having,” I say to her in response to her question. “Brandy sounds good.”

She smiles and walks past me to the bar at the far end of the room. When she gets there, she looks at me over her shoulder, her smile turning me on almost as much as watching her ass move beneath her robe as she sauntered across the room.

“Aren’t you underage?” she says to me even as she pours out a healthy drink of the golden-brown brandy. She turns and stands there at the bar, holding the glass out.

“Trust me,” I say as I walk briskly towards her. “I am very much of age.”

She laughs now, spontaneously, and I think my comment has done away with some lingering tension in the room. She hasn’t asked me anything about why I’m here when college is in session, why I’m standing here in her living room on a Friday night, when my girlfriend, her daughter, is hundreds of miles away, oblivious to what’s about to happen in her childhood home.

No, Beth Carson hasn’t asked me a thing. She isn’t stupid. And neither is she blind—certainly the outline of my cock is clearly visible against the front of my jeans. I am not fully hard, but I am certainly aroused, and my shorts are already getting soaked with precum. I am so hot for this woman that I scare myself for a second, and I take a quick sip of the pungent brandy and put the glass down on the coffee table.

“So, how’s college?” she asks me, gesturing at the couch as she takes a seat at the far end of it.

I sit down on the other corner of the couch and cross one leg over the other. I take another sip of the brandy, feeling the alcohol burn its way through me. This is happening, I tell myself. This is fucking happening.

“Great,” I say, looking at her and then looking away. “I mean, it’s all right. I like my classes this semester.”

She nods as she takes a sip from her glass. It is almost done, and she finishes the drink and gets up to make herself another. In the meantime I continue to talk, spewing inane details about my classes and professors, my prowess on the lacrosse team, my heroics in intra-mural basketball.

She listens carefully, nodding and smiling as I spout all this shit, but I can tell she’s also thinking about something else, the elephant in the room, the unspoken knowledge that I am here for one reason and one reason only.

To fuck Ms. Beth Carson, my girlfriend’s MILF.

To fuck her to hell and back.

8

M
y drink is almost done and I feel a head-rush that is part desire, part drunkenness. I realize I have not eaten anything since noon, and the alcohol is hitting me hard. We have been talking for almost thirty minutes, and by now I am shamelessly looking at her with want, need, and desire in my eyes.

I look at her large brown eyes, long eyelashes. There are hints of bags beneath those eyes, but they only serve to add some character to her undeniably beautiful face. Her lips are smooth and unpainted, with perhaps a light, transparent gloss applied to them. She wears no makeup, and her skin, while not perfect, looks smooth in the soft yellow light of the living room.

I let my gaze travel down her neck. Her robe has opened up a bit, and the black silk top has two buttons undone. I can see the hint of cleavage from where I sit—the crease between her heavy boobs prominent and inviting. I want to put my cock right on that crease. I want to titty-fuck her with my dick as she sits there on the couch and looks up at me. I want to watch my young, rock-hard dick move up from her tits and towards her lips as she opens up and lets me gently fuck her in the mouth. Oh, fuck, I might cum in my pants right now, untouched. I need to move this forward right now.

As if she can read my mind, she turns to me and looks me directly in the eye, as if to say that I’m going to have to bring it up, take the risk, make the first move. I take a deep breath and suck down the dregs of my brandy drink, wincing as the alcohol cuts through my consciousness.

“Richie,” she says now, before I can say or do anything. “I understand the attraction. The sense of doing something forbidden, taboo, wrong. I understand it. But—”

“—but what?” I say now, feeling some anger rise up in me. I don’t want to play games anymore. There should be no guesswork involved, no beating around the bush. I’m here to fuck, and if she wasn’t into it, she should have told me earlier. I’m not leaving this house without fucking this woman, without pinching her breasts until she screams, without slapping her round, soft ass until it’s red all over, without seeing her pussy spread wide before me as she lies there helpless and begging, completely in my control.

I feel myself stiffen, and my pants feel very tight right now. I stand up and make my way a couple of paces along the couch, and I put my knee on the couch cushion next to her and lean forward.

My face is so close to hers that I can feel her breath on my cheek, and as I get close to kissing her, I reach into her robe with my right hand.

She grabs my hand and turns her face away, but I can smell her desire just like I can taste my own carnal needs. She knows where this is going, I tell myself. She can stop it, if she wants. She can say “No!” and throw me out.

But she won’t say no. She wants this as much as I do. If it’s forbidden and dangerous for me, it’s even more so for her. I know she is wet inside those silk pajamas. I know her clit is already stiff and full. She wants this as much as I do, and I’m not going to stop now.

She is still holding my hand back, but I refuse to ease up on the pressure. I continue to firmly push my hand closer to that cleavage, closer to those magnificent boobs. She’ll have to push harder if she wants me to stop.

But she doesn’t push harder, and with a rush of exhaled air she turns her face back to me and lets me kiss her hard. At the same time she pulls my hand down into her robe, and I gasp as I realize that this is finally happening. It’s begun, and there’s no turning back for either of us.

9

M
y fingers find their way down her top just as my hungry tongue enters her mouth. I squeeze down hard on her nipple, pinching it with all my strength, and I feel her mouth tighten as she breathes hard, sending a torrent of saliva into my mouth. I keep kissing her now, my mouth wide open, and her head is pushed against the back of the couch. I am still above her, my left knee on the couch, my right hand cupping her large left boob, my fingers insatiably pinching her nipple as I feel myself get harder than I ever imagined possible.

“No,” she whispers now as I pull my head away from her face so I can open up her robe fully. “We can’t do this, Richie.”

“Yes,” I say, my voice thick with desire, my words slurring with passion. “We are doing this, Beth.”

“We can’t do this to Mindy,” she whispers again as I look down at her on the couch.

Her robe is pulled back now, and with one swift move I rip the buttons off her black silk top and gasp when her tits spring out like torrents. They are bigger than I imagined. A bit saggy, but smooth and . . . and there . . . cresting each tit is a perfect, large, dark red nipple, both already hard, the little follicles around each nipple pricked up like goosepimples.

“Oh, fuck,” I say, almost shouting the words as I force myself to hold back for a moment so I can admire those tits that I’ve dreamt about for so many months now, those fucking boobs that got me to cum so many times on my own, those forty-year-old nipples that I fantasized about even as I fucked Beth’s nineteen-year-old daughter in the ass on the fourth of July.

“Please,” she says again as I position myself right in front her.

I sit down on the coffee table, and now I am down at the level of her breasts, and I grab them both, squeezing simultaneously, pinching and pulling, watching the nipples get harder, her boobs get red as I press them with all my strength.

She is writhing now, her eyes closed, her mouth half open, those strawberry lips moving as she mumbles something under her breath. I lean forward and kiss her neck furiously, still pressing her boobs.

But now my cock is straining in my pants to the point where it is almost painful. I unbuckle my belt clumsily and unbutton my jeans as fast as I can. I push my boxers down with my jeans, and my cock springs out of its restraints, its tip already glistening with moisture, its shaft already soaked in my fluids. I have never been so wet, and I moan once and then push my cock up between Beth’s tits, furiously fucking those magnificent globes.

“Take them off,” she whispers now, opening her eyes and looking down at my hard cock that is rubbing against her chest and boobs, leaving trails of stickiness all over her skin. “Take off your pants.”

I shout in frustration at having to stop, and I back away and sit down on the coffee table again so I can take off my pants. I do it and fling the jeans and boxer shorts to the far end of the room. Now I am wearing nothing but my black T-shirt and socks, and when I turn back to her I see that she has taken off her robe and discarded her ripped pajama top. She is still wearing those pajama bottoms, and I take in the sight of her bare shoulders, her exposed armpits, those fucking tits. I look down at her belly, which is slightly spilling over the waistband of the pajamas as she sits back down on the couch. I reach for the flesh and squeeze it even as I feel her right hand go for my cock.

She grabs my cock firmly, like she knows what’s she doing, like she’s grabbed a lot of cocks in her life, made a lot of men cum in her time.

“Hi, Richie,” she whispers now, slowly and sweetly, looking up at me and smiling as I stand in front of her, my cock in her hands, my eyelids moving rapidly as she begins to gently jerk me off.

“Oh, FUCK,” I say, my voice shaking as pleasure surges through me.

I grab her head now and move my cock towards her mouth. I need to put my cock into something wet, warm, and receptive—I don’t care what. She opens her mouth slightly and begins to kiss my cock, gently at first, then harder and more quickly. I cannot take it anymore, and I hold her head firmly and push my hard, pulsating dick into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat with my force.

She gags for a moment, but does not attempt to push me out, and I cry out once more and begin to fuck her hard in the mouth.

She goes with it, moaning to keep me going, her tongue rolling over the tip and shaft of my cock. She reaches out and cups my balls with her right hand, and I moan again, look up at the ceiling, and then down at this fucking heavenly woman.

The sight of her boobs heaving as I fuck her in the mouth is something I will never forget, and as she moves her head faster and faster and rubs my balls with expert attention, I feel myself building up to a massive orgasm.

I grab her hair and push myself in as far as I can, feeling the tip of my cock enter her throat. She grabs my ass and pulls herself closer to me, and now she is fucking me with her mouth, moving her head back and forth like a goddamn professional. I reach down and grab her left tit and pull at it, squeeze the nipple, then let go and slap the tit hard as I come like a fucking geyser into her mouth.

I continue to pump even as I come, my orgasm showing no sign of ending. I can barely see, and my hips jerk back and forth like I am in a convulsion. Beth swallows once, twice, and then lets go of my balls and begins to rub my thighs.

“Oh, fuck, Beth,” I say. “Oh, holy fuck, Beth.”

Now she slows down her head motion and turns her eyes upward. I see a sparkle in her large brown eyes, and I watch as she pulls her head back and takes my cock out of her mouth. My cock is red, soaked, and still semi-hard.

“Oh, fuck,” I say again.

“Oh fuck is right,” Beth whispers as she continues to rub my thigh with one hand, gently jerking me off with the other. “Because we’re only just getting started.”