Chapter 6

Mom had Mrs. Hancock over for coffee several times in the next two weeks and there was definitely an effect but it wasn’t the one I had hoped for. Sex with Mom stopped almost completely. The few times I was home earlier than Dad either Mrs. Hancock was visiting or Mom wanted to talk about her. I could have taught Mrs. Hancock a thing or two about frustration.

“Glenda really does need an outlet,” Mom was saying as I sat next to her on the couch, playing with her leg and trying to interest her in going upstairs for the thirty minutes we had before Dad got home.

“Yeah, an outlet,” I muttered, scratching the top of Mom’s leg just above the knee, ‘accidentally’ scraping the hem of her dress up to mid-thigh.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I replied in a noncommittal tone.

I slipped my finger between Mom’s thighs but she casually pulled my hand out and tossed it aside.

“She needs to have an affair. There’s lots of men around here that would jump at the chance but they’re married.”

I was shocked at the casual way Mom spoke about a married woman having an affair and wondered if she had ever had an affair, or even more than one.

“She needs someone single, but discreet,” Mom went on.

“Yeah, she needs to get fucked.” I put my hand back between Mom’s thighs and was surprised when she didn’t push it away.

“That’s a vulgar way of putting it, but yes, I guess she does need to get fucked.”

I got my hand far enough up Mom’s dress that I was able to scratch my fingertips across the front of her panties. I was elated because a finger across the front of her panties almost always removed Mom’s resistance and this time was no different. She leaned back into the couch and I followed her, parting her relaxed legs continuing the conversation to cover up the fact that my fingers were now openly stroking her pussy.

“Too bad her son is too young,” I said, hoping the suggestion would trigger a need to go upstairs.

“Yes, the easy solutions are often unavailable,” Mom giggled.

“And they’re usually the best ones,” I whispered in her ear, cupping her entire pussy in the palm of my hand and pressing my longest finger along the length of her groove.

“That’s true, baby,” Mom whispered, her pelvis reacting to my touch. “Oh God, do you think she suspicious?”

The remark was strange and made no sense. Why would Mrs. Hancock be suspicious? I took it as a ploy to throw me off and kept Mom pressed against the couch when she tried to sit up.

“That might be why she looks at you the way she does wondering if that’s why I’ve been so much happier lately.”

“She’ll have a long wait until her son can help her,” I growled, sliding my hand up and pushing my fingers down inside Mom’s panties. My longest finger slid easily through her moist lips and into her slick tunnel. Mom gasped and turned toward me, her arms circling around my neck. As her hips followed, I slipped a second finger into her cunt. By the time our kiss ended, I had all my fingers inside her, the way she liked it when she was downstairs.

“I guess,” she panted, “unless...”

“Unless what?” I gasped as Mom reached into my pants and encircled my shaft with her soft fingers. She stroked it and used the soft pad of her thumb to rub the top of the helmet.

“Nothing,” Mom said. She licked my ear and whispered hoarsely, the way she knew I liked to hear her speak, “Do you want to fuck me before your father gets home?” then added in a throatier voice, “before my husband comes home?”

I don’t know why Mom referred to Dad as her husband. She had never done that before except for that one time in The Room with Dad and his friends outside. Pretending I was about to have another man’s wife, which was technically true, was a surprising turn on for me. I guess it was just another example of how well Mom knew me. Her mind made sex with her hot and at that moment I knew I would never tire of her like my father had.

Mom didn’t wait for an answer. She twisted sideways onto her back and pulled her knees way back as she spread her legs the way she knew I liked to have her.

“Like this, or do you want me from behind,” she laughed, undoing my belt and pulling my cock toward her waiting pussy.

I was in her before she could get my zipper down all the way, holding her ankles to keep her legs up and spread wide. I hammered her eagerly and didn’t wait for her to catch up. It was as if we were in The Room except it was daylight. Mom goaded me, yanking the side of my shirt and twisting her hips, squeezing my shaft mercilessly with her love muscle and growling in my ear.

“Fuck me, come on, fuck me before my husband comes home!”

Mom bent her knees and I leaned over her, still holding her ankles. I didn’t last long. Within minutes I unloaded my spunk between her legs, which was a good thing because Dad came home not two minutes later. I wanted more but would have to wait. Thank the Lord it was Dad’s poker night in two days. To keep Mom keyed up, I mentioned Mrs. Hancock several times over the next two days and flirted with her a lot. Talking about Mrs. Hancock definitely seemed to make Mom horny.

The day of Dad’s poker night, Mom was especially responsive to my flirting. She wore a nice skirt and blouse that showed off her figure well. It wasn’t the brown dress but with all the other signals Mom was throwing my way, I was sure a visit to The Room was on the menu. Or maybe, just maybe, she would let me hammer her on the couch again. The linoleum was getting hard on the knees, for both of us, even with a pad on it. Mom had been hot on the couch and if Dad hadn’t been coming home I bet she would have let me bend her over the cushions and fuck her from behind right away while my cock was still covered in my cum.

Mom nudged me with her knee in the kitchen and pressed against my side when there was no need to be so close, letting the meaty side of her breast sag against my ribs. She even patted me on the bum twice when Dad wasn’t looking though he was in the same room! The kicker was when she pulled me aside and told me to go upstairs and put on ‘those sexy shorts, you know, the ones with the socks that Mrs. Hancock liked so much.” I was in seventh heaven.

Dad was going out the door and I, perhaps too eager, was already approaching Mom.

“Your friend is here,” Dad announced, then left, leaving the door open.

About to wrap my arms around Mom, I pulled up just as Mrs. Hancock appeared at the door.

“Am I too early?” she asked.

“No, you’re just in time,” Mom gushed, pulling her inside and shutting the front door. “I’m so glad you could come.”

Mom held out her hand.

“Let me take your coat.”

Mrs. Hancock was hesitant and glanced nervously at me before reluctantly unbuttoning her coat. She turned, making it easier for Mom to pull it off her arms.

“You look absolutely lovely in that dress,” Mom said.

Mrs. Hancock blushed. “It’s the one from the picture that you liked so much.” She glanced at me and then looked back at Mom nervously. “Bill likes me to wear it at his company things. It’s tacky, isn’t it?”

“On the contrary, it’s very elegant,” Mom assured her.

“I wore a coat to hide it from Bill,” Mrs. Hancock said, then explained further, “I had to leave before the babysitter arrived.”

“You look very classy. Doesn’t she, Ryan?”

Mom nudged Mrs. Hancock forward and she blushed again as I took in the dress. To say the dress looked great on her was an understatement. The black cocktail dress made her smaller breasts look inviting and the back was cut very low, exposing a long neck that was normally covered when her hair wasn’t up like it was now. It ended just as the swell that swooped out to form her buttocks began. The dress completely transformed Mrs. Hancock’s normally mousy presentation, at least by looks anyway.

“It’s nice,” I offered, thinking she looked hot as hell but still miffed by her arrival. I should be on my way downstairs to The Room or already at it on the couch with Mom. What the fuck was she doing here?

“We’re so glad you could come,” Mom slipped her arm around her friend’s waist, a little possessively, I thought, “and get away from your husband for a night. Aren’t we, Ryan.”

The reference to ‘husband’ seemed unnecessary and its use prompted memories of how often Mom had been using it lately.

“Yes, we certainly are,” I replied stiffly.

Mom held her friend in place, facing me, until Mrs. Hancock blushed and looked down. I regarded her calmly, still pissed that she was here. Her eyes had inadvertently locked on the front of my shorts and that triggered an involuntary response within me. I checked out the small tits that provided substance to the front of the dress. It was cut low and wide so I could easily see the sides of the small affairs. Yeah, she was quite fuckable. Maybe Mom was right and she really did need it. Man, I would never get so caught up in a career that I’d ignore something like this.

Mrs. Hancock seemed embarrassed to be standing in front of me so scantily clad and under such intense scrutiny, and yet strangely happy to be there. Mom followed Mrs. Hancock’s gaze down to my shorts, looked up at me, and smiled.

“Well, why don’t we have some coffee? Ryan, will you do serve us?”

I made coffee and put together a plate full of snacks while alternating between listening to Mrs. Hancock’s conversation with Mom and complaining bitterly to myself about her presence. I was a little surprised that she was openly discussing intimate details about her private life with her husband when I was in the next room but I guess it was a continuation of the conversation she had been having with Mom for the past two weeks. Evidently, Mr. Hancock was even less a loverboy than I had thought. Christ, he hardly ever made love to his wife!

I brought the coffee and snacks in and served them up, moving slowly and making sure the bulge in my shorts was prominently displayed. I had to admit it that the sight of Mrs. Hancock’s lithe body in that dress and the thought that she hardly ever got fucked had made me more swollen. Mom tossed a single glance my way and seemed pleased. That intrigued me. Why was she so happy to see me getting hard over her friend?

Ah, I got it. Mom was using Mrs. Hancock to get both herself and me worked up. Then, with plenty of time before Dad got home, she would send Mrs. Hancock on her way, talking about doing it with another man’s wife, and we would have at it with gay abandon, maybe right here on the couch where Mrs. Hancock was sitting beside Mom about her husband’s shortcomings, and by extension, Dad’s. Okay, I was up for that!

I sat down for a few minutes but was quick to top up their cups, preening my crotch for Mom’s benefit, but noting that Mrs. Hancock was getting less shy about looking. I offered to make another pot when it emptied after topping them up for the third time but Mom said no.

“Would you like to see The Room now?”

The Room? I was shocked.

“Ryan did such a wonderful job of building it.”

Why was she showing her The Room? She had to get rid of her so we’d have time to use The Room ourselves!

“Mrs. Hancock dipped her head. “I guess so.”

Mom stretched out and took her hand. “You really must believe. I can’t tell you what a difference it makes. There’s something truly magical about it. It’s helped so many of my friends.”

What the hell was Mom talking about? She looked at me.

“Hasn’t it, Ryan?”

“Um, yeah. Lots.”

“And it’s just an empty room?” Mrs. Hancock asked.

“Yes, except for a mat on the floor. You sit on the mat in the dark with nothing to do, no kids or chores or husband to distract you, and just empty your mind.”

Mom got up and pulled Mrs. Hancock up with her.

“I feel a little silly.”

“Don’t,” Mom said. “ Don’t think about anything, just let your mind float and let what comes, come.”

Mom walked Mrs. Hancock into the kitchen.

“I’m going to take Glenda down to your meditating room, Ryan. You don’t mind, do you?”

Meditating room?

“No. By all means, be my guest.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

On the way downstairs, Mom cautioned Mrs. Hancock to stay in The Room until she came back to fetch her.

Within two minutes, Mom was back.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

Mom put her finger to her lips and pulled me out of the kitchen into the living room. Remembering her warning for Mrs. Hancock not to come until Mom came to get her, and appreciating the sexiness of her own apparel that contained a more generous pair of unencumbered breasts, I closed upon her and started undoing the top button of her blouse. Maybe Mom was kinkier than I thought. Maybe she had purposely brought her friend over so we could fuck upstairs while she meditated downstairs.

“Oh, so you want some rent for using The Room, do you?”

“The thought crossed my mind,” I replied.

“Oh, did it?” Mom teased, arching her back instead of pushing my hands away.

“Yes, it certainly did,” I husked, already excited and playing with her breasts. Already? I had been sporting a huge boner for two hours.

“If you want to use this,” Mom rubbed the front of my shorts, pressing her palm in firmly against the underside of my glans, “you have to do one more thing for me.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” I tried to cover her mouth despite having just asked her a question.

Mom evaded my lips.

“Go downstairs.”

“Go down...” I started to repeat. “What?”

“You heard me. I want you to go downstairs and give her what she needs.”

I was blown away. She wanted me to do someone else?

“Mom!”

“It’s obvious you think she’s hot,” Mom rubbed the bulge in my shorts.

“That’s because I was thinking of you.”

“That’s nice but it’s because of her too, isn’t it?”

I hesitated.

“Tell the truth,” Mom insisted, rubbing.

“I guess so, but I would rather...”

“I know, and I love you for it but I want you to do this for me.”

“Mom, if it’s because I was, um, a little, uh, demanding before, I...”

“It’s not that. I like that sometimes too and if I didn’t I’d let you know.”

I looked down and shuffled my feet. “You really want me make love to your friend?”

“No, I want you to fuck my friend’s brains out. I want you to give her the hottest sex of her life so she can’t help but come back for more.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You don’t have to, just do it for me.”

Mom stepped close and put her palm against my erection again as her other arm curled around my neck. She stretched up to nibble my neck and then slid her lips onto my ear. She knew I absolutely loved that.

“Come on, baby,” she cooed, wet tongue swirling thickly in my ear. “I’ll make it up to you,” she said, squeezing my cock, and I knew she meant raucous sex.

“When?”

“Whenever.”

“Where?”

Mom knew I was asking if it had to be in The Room.

“Wherever.”

I groaned and ground my cock against Mom’s hand.

“Anywhere?”

“I promise.”

Abruptly, Mom pulled away. “But first...” She drew away and gave my swollen cock a parting pat.

“Okay.” I turned to go up to my room but Mom grabbed me.

“Where are you going?”

“To my room.”

“You don’t need to get changed.” Mom looked me over. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

“I’m going to get some rubbers,” I explained. “She’s married, remember?”

The words were out before I realized the implication of my words, that I didn’t need them with Mom because she was older.

“I mean, uh, she’s probably...”

“You don’t need them,” Mom pulled me back and shoved me toward the basement door.

I lumbered ahead of her.

“I might not remember to pull out,” I protested.

“You don’t have to.”

Mom pushed me through the door and stood at the top while I descended the stairs, confused. Did Mom know that Mrs. Hancock was already fixed after just one kid, or did she think her friend wanted to get pregnant and her husband didn’t want her to? That was it! Mrs. Hancock wanted another child so she didn’t have to go back to work now that her son was in school. So, why didn’t she just not use protection with her husband? I was still confused but events were pushing me along.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and started toward The Room, becoming less sure of the situation with each step. Just as I reached the door, Mom flicked off the light. I stood in the dark, uncertain and wanting to chicken out, but with each passing second, knowing what lay beyond the door, my cock gradually gained control of my muscles. Mom clinched it with a whisper that floated down from the top of the stairs.

“I promise.”

I flipped off my sandals, then slid the door open and closed it behind me, but not all the way, in case Mom wanted to hear or even sneak into the room. I paused to collect my thoughts, mildly surprised that, given her nervous demeanor, Mrs. Hancock hadn’t called out to ascertain the identity of her visitor, whom I was sure she expected to be Mom. I filled my lungs as quietly as I could to avoid giving myself away and resolved to do what Mom suggested.

Be firm. This is what Mom wants. You have to make it happen and if she freaks out, Mom will handle it.

I approached the middle of The Room bolstered by the assurance of my whereabouts, even in the pitch black, from long practice. I kept my feet wide to avoid trodding on Mrs. Hancock’s feet, which I suspected would be trailing behind her as she knelt on the floor facing the back of the room.

What was going through her mind? She would have heard the door open, so why was she silent? Was she expecting Mom to kneel beside her to join in a mutual meditation or to quietly query her if she had found what she was seeking? Or, had Mom prepped her to expect me?

I bumped into her, startling us both!

My hands reached out to catch her and the clasp of my fingers around the back of her head confirmed the interpretation of the signals from my feet, that there were no legs between them, that Mrs. Hancock was facing toward me rather than away as I had expected. My crotch had bumped her face backward and my hands, attempting to prevent her fall, were holding it against my pants.

The thought of it made my cock throb and I immediately felt in control.

At first, Mrs. Hancock didn’t react but when she tried to straighten up she only succeeded in pushing her face harder against my bulge. She turned her head, perhaps realizing what she was doing, but was more likely just trying to free her mouth and nose so she could breathe. I let her inhale and then tightened my grip on her head and steered her face back into my crotch. Holding her in place, I rubbed the hardness under my shorts across her nose and lips, my fingers splayed through the tight roll of hair at the back of her head.

I rubbed back and forth three or four times, then turned her face to let her breathe. For the first time, my brain was able to assess the situation rather than simply accept the barrage of sensations impinging upon it from my groin. Mrs. Hancock hadn’t screamed or jumped up to run away. She just kneeled there, taking it, letting me rub my bulging shorts across her face.

Unbelievable! This married woman, this mother of a school-age child, sat passively in front of me while I scrubbed my cock across her face.

She had taken two or three breaths while I digested these thoughts. Enough. I was ready for more. I turned her face back and bent my knees, partly squatting and twisting my hips to enable the softness of my balls to also avail themselves of her pretty face.

Ahhh, fuck that felt good. I ground myself against her and groaned to let her know how great she felt. Grasping her head more firmly, I thrust against her face in small fucking motions as if I was actually shoving my cock into her mouth. I remembered how small it was and how I had imagined that my cock would bend trying to get into it, then thought about how Mom had mimicked that by pinching her jaws together, knowing that I had been checking Mrs. Hancock out that night.

Yeah, baby. I’m going to shove it in there. Let’s see if you can take it.

I released Mrs. Hancock’s head and shucked my t-shirt, then resumed mauling her face with my scrotum. I found her hands and pulled them up flat onto my belly. They slid up to my chest of their own accord and then around to rest on my back just above my buttocks in abject acceptance of her fate. I rocked my cock harder, mashing it against her lips.

I paused to push my shorts down and off, then quickly regained control of Mrs. Hancock’s head. She gasped and so did I as we felt the greater warmth of my genitals and her mouth through the thinner barrier provided by my undershorts. I stifled the words in my mouth, wanting to maintain anonymity like I had with Mom.

Yeah, baby. Oh, yeah.

I was making her stay face forward longer now, only allowing her a brief respite to gulp in needed oxygen. She gasped when I relaxed my grip, grabbed some air, and twisted her head back before I could do it for her. My hips ground through an imaginary oval, rough-housing her face with my balls. I was so hard that my cock stretched the material of my shorts so far it seemed like it was going to rip but instead it found and burst through the pee pocket, stabbing her lips and careening off to scrape along her cheek.