#1 MILF - Teenage Nut November

Central's #1 MILF - Teenage Blackmail Contract

To stop efforts at blackmail by an obsessed nineteen-year-old, Mrs. Nicolle Burton agreed to an ill-advised, poorly worded contract to do whatever he wanted for two hours once per month for one year.

Part 3 - November

November's text message from Matt came as she was blowing off work binge-watching the subtitled Money Heist series on Netflix and thinking about what a hassle it would be at ShopRite buying groceries for Thanksgiving. The holiday was over a week away, but it was already on her mind, along with a million other things.

Nic groaned when she saw a notification and the name "Nobbit" on her phone. She'd put him in her contacts to disguise him and give herself a little chuckle when she had to read a message from the annoying little weasel. He would be bugging her for another ten interminable months because of the stupid agreement she had been dumb enough to suggest, so she was trying to find small ways to make the best of it.

She tapped the screen and was horrified to see a picture of the teenager's uninspiring dick fill it. Jesus, what was it with guys and dick pics?

She responded with a pinching finger emoji to let him know what she thought of his size and a barfing face to add some emphasis. She put down her phone with a shake of her head and resumed watching Money Heist.

In just a few seconds, she felt the couch cushions vibrating and heard her phone buzzing again. With an audible sigh, she tapped his name and read his text. It said, "Whatever. You'll still be sucking it tomorrow. See you at my house at 12. Bring me some breakfast."

Nic shook her head in annoyance. Breakfast? At noon? Who the fuck did he think he was?

She'd already have gotten the kids off to school - or, more accurately, made her husband do it, worked out, and had three meetings by then. And he would just be getting up? Such a lazy boy!

Nicci found herself more annoyed that the kid wasn't going to college, didn't have a job, and played video games all day than that she'd agreed to do whatever he wanted once a month to get him off her back. Not for the first time, she wondered what was wrong with her.

Would her whole lunch break tomorrow have to be spent in that loser's room...again? Damn it! She was hoping to go to HomeGoods, and instead, she'd be sucking that worthless punk's dick...again. She tossed her phone onto the couch, screamed once into one of her many decorative pillows, unpaused her show, took a drag on her e-cig, and returned to Netflix.

__________________________________________________

One of Nic's favorite parts of the fall was its cooler weather. She loved summer, but by the time August rolled around, she was tired of the heat and looked forward to all the fun elements of the next season. She did this year-round, so every season had its joys and frustrations that left her in a perpetual state of wishing for the next change to happen.

In the summer, she dressed for the weather and wore very little clothing. Bikinis, short shorts, tanks, halters, flip flops, and similarly revealing clothing were what she wore every day. It was easy and just more comfortable to wear less when it was hot. In the fall, she liked to be cozy. That meant sweats and more sweats. It was a dramatic shift and meant much less eye candy for any lucky men throughout the area whose paths Nicci might have crossed.

As lunchtime approached, the number one MILF studied herself in the full-length mirror of her well-appointed bedroom and tried to determine her approach to this month's contractual obligation.

She removed her lounge clothes and smiled proudly at her nude reflection in the mirror. All her hard work was obvious. She jogged in place and smirked proudly as her boobs bounced naturally and heavily. Everything else looked firm and strong but still very pretty from her daily workouts. She had always been careful to strike the right balance in her body. Soft, feminine, toned, and fit was good. Cut and gristly, like a bodybuilder, was gross and unattractive.

Holding her large bouncing breasts in her hands like a manual sports bra, she jogged in place a few more strides to ensure she hadn't missed anything in the mirror that her heaving D-cup boobs might have distracted her from noticing. Nicci stopped fake jogging, shifted her weight to one side, and made duck lips at herself.

Her long blonde hair and beautiful face had been lifelong genetic gifts, as were the generous curves on a petite frame. She'd been strikingly sexy for a long time, and while she was rigidly on guard for a decline, there seemed to be no hint of a drop-off anytime soon. She was the total package, a lot more than a pretty face and breathtaking body, and she was proud of that. Success at work, marriage, motherhood, friendships, and life had been hers so far, and her goofiness was the trait she liked best about herself.

A part of her looked forward to no longer worrying about how she looked. In most ways, she looked prettier and sexier than when she was twenty-five, and she put most women to shame. A lifetime of being the hottest girl in the room had often been a hassle, but it was a status she wasn't prepared to lose.

She noticed with a hint of dissatisfaction that she was due for a shave. Her pubic hair had grown slightly, and her usual thin landing strip was not well-defined. She hated not being perfect. 'Oh, well,' she thought, 'Not making a special effort for this creep when I don't even worry about it for my husband.' She shrugged and blew herself a flirty kiss with a wink.

She padded barefoot and naked down the hallway to her office and typed an away message on her work chat, worrying at the last instant that her camera might be on and relieved when she saw it wasn't.

Nicolle threw on her loosest sweatpants and a huge hoodie that belonged to her husband. At the bottom of the stairs, she slipped on a pair of running shoes and snagged a plastic grocery bag from the cupboard. She tossed a banana, breakfast bar, juice box, and some goldfish into it before grabbing a baseball cap and hopping into her car for the short drive up the street.

___________________________________________________________

She parked a few houses away from Matt's, took a deep breath, and put on a pair of sunglasses. With those shades on and the hoodie pulled up over the baseball cap, she was as unrecognizable as she could make herself, and she had decided that would be her plan if she had to go to this kid's house and try to be undiscovered in her own neighborhood.

Looking at her reflection in the rear-view mirror, she shook her head, wondering how she'd ended up scurrying around like this every month to keep the idiot kid quiet. In her mind, she replayed a conversation she'd had with him when he'd first started trying to blackmail her, before she'd decided on this ridiculous contract as a way to stop his relentless pestering.

Asleep in his room, having gone to bed anticipating the MILF's arrival like a kid at Christmas, Matt was dreaming coincidentally of the same conversation.

"I've learned three things over the years," Nicci had told him with a smug sneer. "One - everybody always gossips about girls that look like me, so nobody ever really knows what to believe. Believe me. My husband has heard all the rumors. People have said worse. So, what good would it do you to tell anybody anything I've done? Nobody's going to believe a dork like you."

She smiled at him condescendingly before continuing.

"Two - if anybody has ever been lucky enough to have gotten any, they will never jeopardize that. You are always going to want more, little boy. And you'll always think you're this close to getting some." She pinched her pretty fingers together for effect when she said it. "Nobody who has gotten as lucky as you wants to cut that possibility off. Nobody wants to be the guy who killed the golden goose."

"What's the golden goose?" Matt had asked.

Nicci rolled her eyes at him. Did his mom never read him nursery rhymes? "The point is I don't believe you'd ever tell anyone or show them any pictures because, you know, and I know you'd never get near me again."

She puffed her e-cigarette and blew a massive vapor cloud into his face. They were standing in her driveway outside her car for this conversation, and at 5'3", the MILF, who looked twenty-seven, was nearly the same height as the horny nineteen-year-old to whom she was talking.

"Three - in today's world, if there are no pictures, then it didn't happen."

Matt perked up immediately at her last comment.

"Well," he said, "the good news for me is I have a whole mountain of pictures! And videos!"

"What about the NDA you signed? All the contestants signed one," she huffed. "The NDAs covered everything we did for the contest!"

"Mrs. Burton, the NDAs only applied to the contestants. I wasn't a contestant."

Not wanting to miss an opportunity to insult him, Nicci interrupted the boy.

"Obviously, you weren't a contestant, you little weenis!"

He had flushed like always at her frequent digs at his package but finished his thought while staring at her nipples, pushing vividly against her tight BMW Motorsports t-shirt.

"All I'm saying is you and your crazy girlfriends never asked me to sign one of the NDAs!"

She stared at him with cut eyes and cocked her pretty head in the sunlight.

"Well, I guess the good news for me is I still have principal number two, don't I? Something tells me the deep dark distant hope that you might get some more of this MILF's ass in the future is more important to you than anything else in your pathetic little life. If I say no to your stupid blackmail, and you decide to shoot yourself in the foot and tell my husband or somebody, you know for sure you're never getting any ever again, right?"

Matt had looked at her with a mighty effort to maintain his best poker face. This was the best point she'd ever made. She was right. He just didn't want her to know it.

"Plus," she said as she reached into her car to retrieve her four-thousand-dollar Chanel handbag and lock the door, "I make a shit ton of money all by myself. If my husband decided to leave me based on what some snot-nosed neighborhood kid told him, I'd be just fine!"

Matt dreamed about this conversation often because it had somehow turned out so much better for him than it had seemed like it was going to at the time. He'd never understood why, but he didn't care. What he cared about was that he hadn't quit, and his persistent pestering had paid off. Somehow, he'd ended up with his dream woman offering him a contract to get him off her back. Ever since he'd spent most of his time trying to figure out how to squeeze the most out of their agreement.

As Nicci blinked at her incognito look in the mirror that November day, she knew why she'd caved even if Matt did not. She'd always been a tough-talking Jersey girl. But the one thing that mattered more to her than anything else was her stable family. She couldn't shit talk her way out of that mattering to her. She couldn't bitch away all the videos the kid had taken of her.

And the one thing she could do better than almost anything, more effortlessly than almost anything, and with less emotional baggage than nearly anything, was sex. Sex of all kinds. Eventually, she had decided that if that was what it took to end the teen drama, that was what she'd do. She wasn't stupid. But once she'd signed the contract, like an airhead, she was determined to follow it through to the end.

___________________________________

She got out of her car with a sigh, walked around the corner, up the walkway to Matt's house, and rang the doorbell. When a woman her own age flung the door open, she was mortified to find herself face-to-face with Matt's mother. 'Oh my God, she's in my Facebook group," Nic thought. "She's in the Fun Flock! She totally knows me!' The MILF was paralyzed with a sudden rush of anxiety.

Matt's mom cocked her head quizzically and looked at her with an appraising look. She put her hand to her face in thought.

"Wait," she said. "Don't tell me. Let me guess."

Nic frantically tried to come up with an explanation as to why she was there at her door. She opened her mouth to speak, and the other woman cut her off.

"DoorDash? My dad this time? Or my son?"

Nicci coughed and nodded, trying not to speak.

"I'll take it," she said, holding her hand out for the bag.

"Umm," the number one MILF decided to use an Australian accent she practiced at home to be silly. "My instructions are to deliver directly to, umm," she quickly made a show of looking at her phone, "Matt!"

Matt's mother noticed the pretty hands, impeccable manicure, and large diamond ring on Nic's hand as the disguised sex bomb checked her phone.

"My, that's quite a rock," she observed as she tried to assemble this strange puzzle in her head. The sunglasses, baseball cap, and massive hoodie hid all of Nic's features except her luscious lips and pretty hands. The woman couldn't place her. "You're from Australia?"

"Yes, mum!" Nic shrugged as she tried to deepen her voice.

"What's an Australian girl with a rock like that doing delivering Doordash in Jersey?"

"I, uh, it's...," Nicci stumbled.

"Sorry, honey," Matt's mom held up a hand to stop her from speaking. "I'm sure it's none of my business what you do for money. Well, he's upstairs in his room. I'll go with you."

Nicci swallowed hard, her heart beating fast, and followed the much larger and much older-looking woman up to Matt's room. The woman pounded on his door. "Matt! DoorDash!" She pounded some more before turning to Nic. "He's such a bum. No job. No school. He won't even let me in his room. Probably isn't even awake yet!"

"Ma! What?" came the voice behind the door.

"More DoorDash for you, that's what! The girl says they need to give it directly to you. Open the door! And don't forget your interview later! Oops, I've gotta run," she said with a nod to Nic as she tapped her watch, "lunch with the girls. Good luck with this one." She thumbed toward Matt's door and rolled her eyes in maternal frustration before hustling down the stairs on her way to exactly the type of thing Nicolle would have preferred to be doing.

Nic stood outside the door with the big 'Keep Out' sign on it and breathed a deep sigh of relief that Matt's shrewish mother was suddenly gone. But it seemed to take forever before Matt opened his door.

Finally, the groggy teen cracked his door open and peeked out.

"What the fuck!" Nic whisper-yelled at him. She forced the door open and shoved him hard in the chest. Matt stumbled backward, and the MILF shut his door behind her, safely enclosing them both in his messy room.

"Your mom? Your fucking mom?" Nicci screamed at the slim nineteen-year-old. She was beside herself. "Your fucking mom knows me, you fucking idiot! She's in the Fun Flock! I'm the fucking leader of the fucking Fun Flock!"

"Whoa, whoa," the sleepy teenager said as he stood in his boxers and held out his hands.

Nicolle threw the bag of random breakfast stuff she'd thrown together at him, sat down on his bed, crossed her arms and legs, and shook her head back and forth in anger.

Matt opened the bag and pulled out the breakfast bar and milk. He munched on the crunchy bar and popped the straw into the milk box. He took a loud, gurgling sip. "Sorry," he said after swallowing.

The two stared silently at each other while he stood and casually ate his breakfast, and the woman twice his age sat and fumed.

"Sorry, doesn't cut it!" she blustered at him. "The whole reason I'm here doing this stupid deal," Nicci waved her arms at him and at herself and then at all the posters all over his bedroom walls featuring her committing various sex acts, "is to keep all this bullshit quiet."

"You need to be WAY more careful, young man!" She admonished him like she was his mother, then realized how awkward it sounded. "I mean, assuming you don't want to be cut off! And we know you don't want that! What I want is to have you out of my life in ten months for good! And that means no one can know about...our...deal...except my girlfriends. Only the ones we both know. Only the ones who were at the contest. And my lawyer." She shook her head to clear all the confused thoughts and tried to finish, "But, whatever, that means NOT your fucking MOM! Not your mom, and not anyone else!"

He looked shocked by the force of her words. But he knew she was right about all of it, and he knew the passion behind what she was saying was precisely why she'd offered him the contract. Ten more months of her was the one thing he wanted more than anything.

"Sorry," he said again with slightly more sincerity. Matt didn't know what to say to calm her down. He had hardly any experience with women, let alone grown women like Mrs. Burton. But he knew he didn't want any of this messed up. He had so many plans in his head, he could barely decide what to do with her each month.

They both stared at each other uncomfortably.

Finally, he held the banana from his breakfast toward her and chuckled, "This looks like something better for you to eat."

She cut her eyes at him with her arms and legs still crossed and said, "WHAT. EVER."

He'd succeeded in breaking the ice, however. And he was desperate to change the topic.

"What's with these clothes?" he asked her with entitled amusement. "These aren't exactly your style, are they? You're so well covered." He giggled some more but was already excited just because she was there. It didn't matter what she wore or how much she bitched at him, she filled him with intense desire.

"I wear sweats when it's cold, okay? Every day isn't a bikini, despite your fantasies." She waved her arms around his room again. "And the last thing I want is for anyone to see me coming over here, so I put some extra shit on."

She pulled the hood off her head and sat there in her baseball cap and sunglasses, looking at the posters of herself giving blowjobs or getting fucked by the whole motley crew of dudes that had participated in that stupid contest Matt had concocted with her so-called friends. She shook her head at all those huge cocks and reminded herself that getting rid of all these images and videos was why she was here.

"Good times, huh?" Matt grinned as he watched her look around. "I especially get a kick out of this one." He pointed to a poster next to him where Marty the midget was standing at his full height behind her, fucking her while she was on all fours, and she grinned a million-dollar smile back at him while he did it.

Nic shook her head. She couldn't help but laugh at the crazy image. What had she been thinking? Obviously, not much!

"God, look at that dumb grin on my face, too," she lamented. "If I ever need a reminder of how I ended up...here...all I need to do is look at your wall of shame." She knew deep down that she had no one to blame but herself. What a fool she had been. It was all so unnecessary when she had such an extraordinary life with everything going for her. Yet there was Marty the midget fucking the shit out of her by the pool while her friends cheered her on. "Jesus," she sighed.

Had she agreed to this stupid deal with Matt because she felt guilty? Because she subconsciously believed she deserved some punishment? It certainly wasn't a self-esteem thing; she was pretty sure she was loaded there. Why had she found all those dicks - starting with Dork - so irresistible in the first place? Then she remembered how stupid big that dumb kid's killer schlong was, and she felt an instinctual rush of excitement jolt her clit.

She decided going down the psychological rabbit hole of self-analysis was a journey for another time, like maybe never, and tried to clear her head.