by Lexi Hots
The conversation has this same tone for the next hour or so while Bret cooks. She asks me questions, I stutter half-answers at her and then she cuts me off and changes the topic. By the time we are finally called in to dinner I feel like I’ve been through a sexy interrogation that I may have half assented to.
As Bret yells that dinner is ready I breath a sigh of relief, knock back the dregs of my drink and head for the kitchen.
Chapter Two
I am sat at the small square kitchen table. Bret is on the side to my left and and his step-mom on the side to my right. All our plates piled high with Bret’s deeply mediocre, just about edible cooking.
I am feeling a little more confident now that Bret’s protective shadow falls across the interaction with his mum and I.So I pipe up with ‘So Mrs–’
‘Please,’ she cuts me off. A-bloody-gain. ‘Call me Angelica. Angel for short. Or A. I never did get used to people calling me “Mrs”.’
She seems to put a great deal of emphasis on that last word and like with almost every single one of her utterances, it seems laced with additional meaning that I am not quite getting. This time however it seems resentment, rather than flirtation, is what’s driving the shift in her tone.
Bret frowns a little, looking concerned. I guess this kind of talk suggests trouble at home in his favourite of the two parental residences. To make him feel better I try to boost the tone by saying, ‘Well, Angelica. Tell me some embarrassing stories about Bret when he was younger.’
That lightens the mood like a charm, and soon the table is laughing and eating and knocking back drinks like there is nothing hanging over us all. And at the time how could we have. It wasn’t until the first course was finished that it all began to unravel.
It’s after I land a particularly sharp zinger about Bret’s failures to meet the masculine ideal that I am suddenly aware of a hand on my knee. Specifically a small female hand. A hand that is now working its way up my thigh, then wraps itself around the meat of my leg with the little finger brushing the swell of my testicles.
I freeze. What here!?! With Bret right there? What is she trying to do? Just being friendly? The questions run through my head like a train that’s not stopping for the station.
Then she gives me a squeeze and I slam my legs together trapping her hand from working it’s way any closer to my meat and two veg. I look at Angelica and she hasn’t broken stride at all, even with her hand gripped in the vice between my thighs and with her step-son right there in front of her. She is just relaxedly leaning on the arm of her chair with her elbow pivoted round into my groin in such a way that she seems totally innocent above the table, but could manipulate me to manual orgasm without so much as rattling her water glass. Assuming I ever let her hand get out from what feels like the safe – but untenable in the long term – location between my thighs. Her other hand circling the rim of her glass full of V&C quite astonishingly casually.
Hoping that my thighs have sent the message I let her hand go a bit and I only realise how disappointed I would have been if she had stopped when she doesn’t. Instead I feel relief and excitement in every sense. I shift my seat forward under the table and her hand bumps against my semi-erect dick. For a moment her composure breaks and she gasps, covering her surprise with a sip of her drink. I guess she wasn’t expecting my size, which though I say so myself is substantial in length and girth.
Her fingers begin tracing the outline of my bulge through my jeans, and my semi doesn’t stay just a semi for long. Soon I am straining against the denim of my trousers as her fingers tease and play with me through the cloth. She is driving me crazy.
I look over her trying to stay casual but I can see the straps of her bra digging into the soft flesh of her shoulder, the smooth lines of her neck with the dimple and clavicles at their base and then the plunge of her neck line and the tightly pressed cleavage that shows just a little more than it should when she throws her head back to laugh at one of my jokes. She really is gorgeous, as she relaxes more and more, her hair seems more and more mussed in the kind of bedroom hair way that some women have.
I want to reach over and grab her, bend her over the table and take her but with my best friend there I restrain myself and instead I try to ask Bret to pass me the salt without giving away the tightly wound sexual tension that is winding ever tighter.
Angelica’s hand slides up a little leaving my junk untended for a moment and desire burns so hot I nearly choke on my next mouthful of Bret’s bland and slightly burned cooking. Then with astonishing deftness, and just one hand her fingers manipulate my belt buckle and in an instant it is undone. She sets to on the buttons of my jeans next.
My God, I think. This woman doesn’t miss a beat.
And she doesn’t, under her dexterous fingers each of the buttons of my jeans give way popping free with a satisfying release of pressure – my jeans were really hugging my balls which I can almost feel swelling (I can certainly feel my heart beat throbbing in them.
Her hand slips in through the buttoned opening and takes my shaft in her surprisingly strong grip, working it free first of my underwear and then my jeans.
There I am, making polite conversation with my best friend and his step-mum, while under the table my todger is out and swinging in the wind with Angelica’s hand firmly gripping the base.
Then her hand is gone and my dick is waving in the air. Exposed and untended while she stands up and helps clear the plates with Bret who looks at me with irritation and says, ‘Don’t get up.’ He has real passive-aggressive venom in his voice. There is roommate history about cleaning up.
‘No, you sit down, hot stuff. Me and Brettling got this. I’m sure dessert will be worth waiting for. I hope you have plenty of cream in I like a mouthful of the white stuff.’
With this blatant quip she throws me another wink. The balls on this woman!
Bret begins to fuss about with doing the dishes and setting something boiling on the hob for the dessert. ‘I’ll just nip to the little girls room,’ says Angelica and while Bret’s back is turned she silently drops on all fours and with ninja like stealth side-steps in a low duck underneath the dining table. There is a ripple of the cloth and then the table cloth – far too big for the table it covers droops back to the floor, is still and she is completely hidden. She might as well have gone to ‘the little girl’s room’.
I feel her hands push my hands aside as they struggle to put my cock away and do up my buttons. Her hand runs up in gentle strokes peeling back my foreskin and teasing the head of my cock with her nails. Her touch is so gentle it does nothing to dim the fire she’s set, in fact if anything it makes it worse, fueling and fanning it all at once. It’s all I can do to keep twiddling my thumbs on the table cloth in a casual manner, and to stifle the moan of desire and frustration that seems to be sitting in my throat just waiting to leap out into the room at the slightest loss on concentration from me.
Just when I think I am going to have to do it myself if she won’t jerk me off, I feel not a strong hard stroke but the warm wetness of her breath.
She doesn’t take me in her mouth at first, instead with wet lips and tongue she kisses the length of my shaft her hands follow, fingertips dimpling my skin as she runs up and down the length of me in more and more insistent strokes. Soon I can feel the damp of her saliva on my balls as it trickles down and I am ready to fuck just about anything or anyone to get my release.
‘Please,’ I groan.
‘What’s that?’ Bret says, turning around.
‘Nothing,’ I say through gritted teeth.
‘Where’s mum?’ he asks. ‘She’s been gone a while.’
I get the words out in single syllable sentences: ‘No. I. Deer. Mate.’
With Bret still making direct eye contact with me, I feel his step-mum’s mouth envelope the head of my cock and suck hard. The vacuum power of her suction presses my perineum against the slick wetness of her tongue. It feels incredible, and that’s before she starts bobbing
her head and sliding her tongue in and out.
‘Oh, god,’ I let out. ‘Food smells great.’ He just about buys my cover and goes back to stirring the pan on the stove. The overhead fan and bubbling pot cover the wet sounds that now reach my ear as Angelica sucks my cock right back into her throat, sliding up and down, harder and harder, deeper and deeper sending wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure shooting from my dick to my brain.
Each time she slides her tongue up and down me it seems to drive my dick deeper and deeper into her throat, when she swallows I can feel the grip on my cock. Her lips are kissing my hip bone with every up-down stroke of her head.
It is too much, I can feel the explosion swelling inside me. She’s not quite got the rhythm right though, and seeing the dessert on the hob getting ever closer to being cooked I take things into my own hands, literally. They come off the surface of the table and slide beneath the table reaching for her exquisite face.
‘Almost there,’ Bret says, stirring away at his pot.
‘Yep,’ I agree, and grabbing Angelica’s hair I begin to thrust pulling her face down hard on my dick for one long stroke after another, holding her down at the point of deepest penetration as her throat closes about my cock. When she swallows, the teasing grip of her gag reflex is too much for me and the building explosion detonates. I cum, pull her head back up and then push it back down roughly. Again. Once, twice, three times. I lose count.
With each thrust I squirt another load into her mouth. The stream seems to never end as I paint the back of her throat with my seed.
When it does end, and my mind returns to my body from the orbit it was blown into, I just want to kiss her and hold her. I mean, maybe, once she’s used some mouth wash and brushed her teeth. My god I’ve never cum so hard, nor felt anything as good as her mouth. The woman deserves some kind of prize, a Nobel Prize for dick sucking, or an Oscar. They should give those out.
I catch my mind on its rambling path and try to draw it back to the here and now.
She also deserves some kind of prize for how slick she is at sneaking around. While I am half gasping and still catching my breath she shimmies out from under the table and slips into her seat, giving me a slightly surprised – and dare I say it impressed – look, all wide eyed and raised eyebrowed. Apart from that she looks as demure as she did before, no sign at all of her having just take two ball-loads of cum in her mouth.
She’s just in time with her ‘return’ from the bathroom. Bret turns around and starts serving up rice pudding from the pan just as she is settling into her seat.
Angelica smiles at him and thanks through a very wet sounding cough. She wipes her mouth but misses a spot.
Christ, she’s missed a bit.
I frantically start wiping my chin in the place where a thin trail of what can only be cum is hanging. Bret hasn’t noticed yet, but she’s looking right at him and ignoring me and my signal completely. I give her a kick in the shins under the table to get her attention and she whips her head round a look of pain on her face.
I wipe my chin again giving her a meaningful look and she gets it, quickly sweeping up the stray globule of cum and flicking it expertly into my rice pudding. Phew.
I breath a sigh of relief and then, contemplating my bowl – Ew.
I decide then and there that I am much to full to have any pudding.
Chapter Three
In the end rather than wasting the food, I just carefully eat around the glistening topping Angelica has provided my rice pudding with. Though I still leave a good third of the dessert untouched. As I pick at the sweet, I also wrestle my now wilted Johnson back into my trousers where it belongs, and subtly do my buttons and belt up.
I am already wondering how I can repay her for the extraordinary service she rendered me as we tidy the remnants of the meal up and work out what to do for the rest of the evening.
I am feeling comfortably tired and so agree when Angelica suggests we all put a movie on and watch it. Naturally she suggests Basic Instinct, Bret counters with The Avengers, again. So I split the difference and suggest Basic Instinct 2 which wins with two votes to one. No prizes for who voted which way.
We’re barely past the first phallic shots of the Gherkin in the movie when Bret is snoring away on the other sofa and Angelica leans over on our couch and nuzzles at my neck, gently biting me and kissing me.
I turn to kiss her and suddenly she’s everything in the world, just her mouth and tongue. I am aware of being a little over eager as I invade her mouth with my tongue then: Ow. She’s biting my lip hard and pulling and my over eagerness suddenly seems restrained.
Her hand takes mine and slips it inside her loose dress, the lace of her bra ripples against my fingers and I can feel the softness of her breasts underneath. I am rock hard again already, and no longer sleepy.
I yank her dress off her shoulder, and she gasps.
‘Shhhh, you’ll wake Bret,’ I whisper.
‘You better shut me up then,’ she says back. I slip my hand inside her bra and pinch her nipple hard, she gasps but this time tries to keep the volume down.
Her hands are all over me pulling me across the sofa. I roll over so I am on top of her and pull her bra strap of her shoulder to reveal the rosy pink nipple I pinched, now hard and pointing up at me. I lower my head and take it in my mouth, tasting the slight salt of her skin, smelling her perfume and sucking the nipple into my mouth before gently swirling my tongue over it again.
She lets out a loud moan and I bring my teeth down until I hear the subdued gasp of pain again.
Bret mumbles something in his sleep. On the screen two psychiatrists are talking about risk addiction.
‘We’re gonnahave to find a better way to keep you quiet,’ I say through a mouthful of breast.
Then an idea hits me and I lift her skirt. Hooking my thumbs into her panties I pull them down and off. They are warm and damp and smell of sex and sweat. Using my index and middle finger to part her lips I gently push the panties into her mouth until the balled up cloth is keeping her jaw from closing. I bite her nipple again testingly and her gasp is suitably quietened by the makeshift gag.
Now I slide my hand up between her legs pinning them apart with my knees and as kiss her breast again I use my free hand to caress her neck my other hand gently traces the wet slit between her lips. I use her own juices to lubricate my teasing stroking of her cunt with only the lightest of touches. She moans and I turn my caress of her neck into a warning grip.
Bret make a weird half-snoring snort noise, but doesn’t wake. Angelica looks over a little worried, a little excited and while she is distracted I bring her attention back to me by sliding my middle finger inside her until the palm of my hand is pressed against her clit.
She start working her hips, grinding against the palm of my hand as I curl my finger to stimulate her g-spot, just how the article in GQ told me too. She seems to be into it, her frotting is getting increasingly manic.
I pull my fingers out, soaking wet and slick with her cum and slide them so that her clit runs in the groove between my fingers, with long slightly circular strokes I work up and down.
Her back is arching and breath is coming out in short sharp gasps from her nose, there’s a little fleck of drool at the corner of her mouth where her saliva has soaked through the panties and her hands are wrapped about my back nails digging in through the cloth. She seems about to cum and so I slide both fingers back inside her, grinding the palm of my hand against her swollen clit and feeling her walls gripping my fingers tighter and tighter in pulsing waves.
Suddenly there is a gush of additional cum that soaks my hand drips onto my wrists, she’s not even moaning any more just one rigid muscle spasm, wall-eyed and her breasts – one bare – thrusting up towards the ceiling as her hips work back and forth against my rapidly working fingers.
Then she lets out a huge gasp and goes completely limp.
She mumbles something that sounds like: ‘Don’t stop. It’s still my tu
rn hot stuff, quick before Brettling wakes up.’ And with that she pushes my head down towards her soaking crotch.
I keep my fingers in her pussy, which now gripping my fingers so tight its like she wants to push them out, and move my hand so I can see the little pink nub of her clit now swollen, erect and so bright red it looks like its going to die of embarrassment or pop.
With the gentlest of touched I begin to lick in small circles with my tongue. Her hands grab my hair and I pull my fingers out to try and wrestle the painful grip free. Then I think, Fair’s, fair. And let her press my face into her cunt firmly. She grinds hard against my face working all the from my chin to my nose, her cum dripping from my chin and filling my mouth and nose as my tongue caressed her taint, drove into the opening of her cunt, swirled over her clit and then back.
Her whole body is behind these violent jerks and for a moment I am worried she’s going to break my nose or dislocate my jaw. I can’t see her anymore to tell if I am doing alright, but she is getting wetter and wetter and her muffled moans and groans seem to suggest I am doing alright at this.
Mind you, by this point it’s almost all her and she seems to be coming again and again.
Eventually, just as I think my tongue might be cramping, she flops back onto the sofa. As she does so, she knocks the coffee table beside it and the empty glass falls loudly on the carpet. In horror she tucks her tit away as I drop back onto the sofa and she straightens her dress.
Bret sits up suddenly and blearily wipes his eyes as I try frantically to dry the lower half of my face. Angelica still seems to be in a bit of daze from what I am proud to say must have been at least four orgasms, and hasn’t taken her panties out of her mouth.
Like a magician pulling hankies from his sleeve I dive across and pull the scrap of cloth from her mouth and jam the damp lacy rag into my pocket where I can feel it hot and moist against my thigh.
‘What did I miss?’ asks Bret.
‘Just a lot of dirty sex,’ says Angelica, smirking at me. I am horrified.
