Stephanie Sizemore stood just outside her son’s room, her hands trembling and held tightly against her chest. My heavens, that boy is packing half his weight between his legs. Damian’s mom had obviously seen him naked on more than one occasion but not recently. He’d apparently had a growth spurt, of which she was unaware. Her breathing was raspy and she was proud of herself for getting out of there without lingering and staring at his impressive equipment. I had no idea, she thought, smiling to herself. It’s a good thing he’s shy or I’d have half the girls in the neighbourhood over here.
As she readied herself to walk away, she remembered why it was important for Damian to get up and going. “Hey, Damian!” she called from the hallway. “Don’t forget…you have to mow Mrs. Wentworth’s lawn before their graduation pool party, which starts at noon.” She waited patiently for a reply and pictured her son frantically trying to put himself together and get dressed. “Hey, you…”
“Yeah, Mom. I heard you. I’ll be out in a sec.”
“Good. I’ll have your breakfast ready so you can eat before you head out.” Saying the words ‘head out’ made her grin – the image of his bulbous glans still very fresh in her mind. Taking a step, she almost went down, not realizing how the incident had so affected her. “My, my,” she said. “Get a grip, Steph.” The middle-aged woman closed her eyes to compose herself before calling out one last time, “Oh, and Damian, are you going to the party? I know Maggie would want you to attend.”
“I’ll think about it, but I’ve got a lot to do today.” What Damian said was true. Over the past two years he’d built up quite a profitable yard-care service that catered to the well-to-do along Titwhistle Lane. It was a job that kept him busy, well-tanned, and fit. He loved being outdoors, with lots of time to himself and not having to answer to anyone, except perhaps the men and women who hired him. He had his favorites; Mrs. Bustle, who was rumored to have been a Playboy bunny in her day, Old Lady Pearl, a widow who tipped very well, Mrs. Maggie Wentworth, of course, the hottest MILF on the block, and Mrs. Bottomley, a fitness instructor in her fifties that looked 35. Yes, the lane was packed with beautiful ladies, enough to fill a young man’s mind with steamy images and fanciful dreams.
Damian finally stepped from his room to find the hallway empty. The sound of his mother banging around in the kitchen eased his mind as he headed to the bathroom for a much needed pee. Dressed for a day’s work, the handsome young man wore his favorite Marvel tank top and a pair of denim shorts that were frayed around the bottom. He was careful to toss the birthday boxers in the hamper, choosing to wear tightly fitting briefs to keep his junk from showing while he worked. Once finished in the bathroom, he hustled to the kitchen where his mother was going about her business as if nothing had happened. A bowl of cereal sat on the table surrounded by toast, juice and a banana.
“Wow…thanks, Mom. You didn’t need to go to so much trouble.”
“I know, but I feel bad about putting you in such an awkward position this morning. I wasn’t spying. I just wanted to make sure you had time to get your work done before the party. I hope you’re not embarrassed.”
Damian smiled, his face turning a light shade of pink. “Well, how can I not be. It’s not every day your mom catches you with a…a…”
“A morning woody?” his mother chimed in.
The words caught the boy by surprise, but they also made him laugh. “Exactly,” he replied. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to look you in the face again.”
“Oh, come on, İstanbul Escort Dear. It’s not the first erection I’ve seen.”
“Yeah, I know, but it’s the first time you’ve seen mine, and…it kinda creeps me out.”
His mother smiled and took two quick steps to close the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. “Damian, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You should be proud of your physique and…and…your thing…you know, your penis. You’ll, one day, make some young woman very happy.”
With his mother’s arms around him and the smell of her perfume wafting over him, Damian sensed a renewed blood flow to his groin, especially after she referred to his penis. The reaction was somewhat surprising but then again he hadn’t actually ejaculated that morning and his pump was still primed. “Um…Mom,” he stuttered.
“What’s that, Dear?” she replied, releasing him.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked shyly.
Unsure how he might phrase his question, but determined to find out, Damian sucked up the courage and asked, “My…my penis, it’s grown some lately and I’m kind of worried something is wrong with me. Is it freakish or something?”
“Good heavens, Damian. Are you joking?”
“No, it’s something that bothers me…a lot.”
Stephanie ran her hand through her son’s hair. “Damian, please don’t take this wrong, but you have a magnificent co…, I mean member. You just happen to be well endowed and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. It looked to me like it was working just fine and it’s the perfect size,” Mrs. Sizemore replied, flashing back to the images she now had burned into her memory.
“Are you angry about this morning?” Damian asked.
“No,” she answered quickly. I’m not worried about what happened and you shouldn’t be either. In a few years we’ll look back about this and have a good laugh.”
“Yeah, right,” he quipped sarcastically. “Anyway, I’m sorry and thanks for being so understanding.”
“No problem. Go on and eat your breakfast so you can get that yard-work done. Have you decided on the party?” she asked, changing the subject and stepping away to clean up the kitchen counter.
“I don’t know. I’d kinda feel out of place.” As he replied he considered the party carefully. There would be some really cute girls who had just graduated, but an equal number of guys that would be vying for their attention. Damian didn’t like crowds but would hate to pass up the opportunity to see some of the hottest girls from school in their swimsuits.
“Well, I for one, think you should go. Maggie will be disappointed if you don’t attend.”
“Yeah, I know. Will there be other mom’s there too?” he asked, coyly.
“I would imagine so. I’m going to drop by and I believe a number of the ladies from the block are planning on being there as well.”
Damian weighed the event even more carefully now, conjuring up a host of sexual charged images in his mind. “Are you going to swim?”
“I might. I’ll at least want to catch some rays to start working on my summer tan. I was thinking of wearing that yellow two piece.”
“Really?” Damian asked. “Isn’t that too revealing to wear to a neighborhood social? I mean, it really shows off your…your…”
“My what?” she interrupted, thinking she already knew the answer.
“You know…your figure.”
“My figure? You mean my boobs. Isn’t that what you’re trying to say?”
Blushing a new shade of red, Damian choked his reply, “Well, yes. They really stand out when you wear Bayan Escort that.”
“And that worries you?”
“Shouldn’t it? My friends won’t give me a minute’s peace if they see you in that suit.” Damian could tell the conversation was headed down a trail he didn’t want to traverse.
“Your friends, huh? What have they said?” she replied, suddenly aware the room was getting very warm or she was flushed.
“You know…just boy stuff.”
“Like what? I hope they were being kind,” she said, winking at her son.
“Oh yeah, they wouldn’t dare say anything mean. They just think you’re pretty hot for a mom.”
Mrs. Sizemore smiled and continued about her improvised chores. “For a mom? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Mom, do we have to have this conversation? It’s pretty awkward for me.”
“I’m just curious. Really…what have they said?” Steph moved to the opposite side of the table where she could gaze directly into Damian’s eyes. For a few seconds Damian tried to ignore her stare, feigning an unusual interest in his breakfast.
“This juice is great,” he began, before his mother pushed for an answer.
“Come on, what have your friends been saying?”
“You really want to know?”
Stephanie shifted her weight from one heal to the next, put her hands on her hips and slightly thrust her bust forward. “I’m curious. Do they find me attractive?”
Damian began slowly and then picked up speed, hoping the faster he talked the easier it would be. “They think you’re hot, like I said, and…and they can’t take their eyes off your breasts and butt when they’re here. It’s downright embarrassing. They don’t even like to come over here anymore unless you’re home.” Damian paused for a few seconds and then asked, “Haven’t you noticed?”
“You mean the bulges?” she asked, teasingly.
“What?” her son exclaimed. “No, not the bulges. I mean just the interest they show in you when they’re here.”
“Oh yeah, that. Of course. I can tell they like being here.” She secretly knew they liked being in their home, as she’d noted on more than one occasion the obvious sexual impact she was having on the boys. It was pretty hard for them to hide their discomfort once their cocks were stiff and screaming for release beneath their jeans. She knew this but remained mum.
Damian continued his explanation, being careful to stay within an acceptable dialogue. “They say a lot of stuff but mostly that you’re a ‘real’ MILF.”
“A MILF?” Stephanie asked, pretending she didn’t already know. “What’s that? I don’t get it.”
“Oh, come on, surely you’ve heard that.”
“No, I don’t believe so. What is it, some kind of acronym or something?” Steph asked, suddenly very aware that her nipples were hardening beneath her sheer top and apron.
“Sort of. It means a Mother I’d Like to F…” he said, slowly.
“F? Friendship? Find?” she questioned, stupidly.
“No, not quite,” Damian replied.
“Oh…Oh…Ooooo, you mean Fuck!” she said, laughing.
“Mom!” the boy whined. “That’s right but it doesn’t seem right coming out of your mouth.”
“Oh, Damian, don’t be such a prude. You’re eighteen now and I’m sure you hear worse at school and certainly your friends don’t seem afraid to use it, at least when they call me a MILF.”
Damian’s eyes dropped from his mother’s face to the tight expanse of fabric covering her breasts. They were impressive and he couldn’t help but agree with his friends. She was hot and the sudden stirring in his pants confirmed it. “Okay, I’ve got to go,” he grunted, standing abruptly to leave the room. As he did, Eskort the conspicuous bulge in his shorts let his mother know that their discussion had aroused the young man.
“Well, you haven’t finished your breakfast but I understand. Be sure you let me know if you’ll be attending the party. I’ll find something other than the yellow suit if it will make you happy. Maybe I’ll just go au’ naturel,” she beckoned, with a hearty laugh.
Hearing the front door slam and the sound of Damian hauling the mower from their garage, Stephanie returned to cleaning the kitchen. She cleared the table, setting the cereal bowl in the sink along with the juice glass and partially eaten toast. She rinsed a washcloth and began wiping the table where the items had been. The large, uneaten banana stared up at her from where she had originally sat it. It was long and phallic…and oddly tempting. What’s wrong with me? she thought. This has been such a crazy morning. As the words flashed through her mind, she reached for the banana bringing the mound of her covered, shaved pussy into direct contact with the table’s edge. “Oooo,” she cooed, “that’s what I need.”
In a flash, the ‘hungry’ woman stripped off her apron and positioned herself at a corner of the table, paying special attention to straddle the angle carefully between her spread legs. Leaning over, she placed her palms flat on the table to steady her frame while she ground her groin against the table’s smooth, rounded edge. “Mmmm,” she moaned, shifting her feet just enough to apply the right angle and pressure. She rolled her hips up and down and side to side, feeling an odd trickle run down both her legs. “What the hell?” she whispered between throaty gasps. “So close…so close…but yet so…”
It was then that she remembered the banana. Stretching for it she continued to gyrate her hips lustily. The fruit filled her hand perfectly, her thumb and fingertip just touching as they encircled the objects girth. Nice and thick, she thought, but not at thick as…no…no…don’t think it, Steph. Her eyes closed, battling the images that now flooded her mind. So big…so thick…
Bearing down, her clit was taking her full weight grinding against the table. “I’m so close…need something…something…” Quickly pulling her shirt above her tits, a tight fitting demi bra displayed her breasts like trophies in a display case. They were beautiful, milky white and full. For a second she laid the banana on the table and pulled her breasts from the bra’s embrace, leaving them smashed together – the nipples thick with lust. She flicked and pulled at the rubbery nubs, engorging them further. Returning her attention to the banana, she briefly sucked the end of it before slipping it under the front clasp of her bra and between her heaving tits. The sensation and mental imagery was enough to send her over the edge into a cascading orgasm. Moaning loudly, Stephanie dropped her chin and licked the tip of the banana, causing her to hump the table top for all she was worth. Spasms overtook her, beginning at her toes and spreading upward through her groin before making her swollen tits and shoulders quake.
Mrs. Sizemore bucked a dozen times before the intensity of her orgasm began to subside and the reality of her situation came into view. “Oh Mama, you’re such a slut, but that was good…so good,” she gushed. Slipping the banana from beneath the bra, she peeled it and slipped as much of it as she could to the back of her throat. She slid it back and forth for a moment with her eyes closed before removing it far enough to bite off the end. As she chewed it, she playfully thought to herself, I guess I am a MILF. Who would have guessed?
Happy, and feeling a wonderful glow, Stephanie went in search of something equally fun and entertaining. Smiling she mused to herself, “Now, where’s that yellow swimsuit?”
To be continued…