Alistaire Too Ch. 03: Poppy's Mom

Of course, Sloane almost immediately caught me staring at her. I was busted so red-handed (red-eyeballed?), I didn't try to look away. I just brazened it out and stared at her with a smile. I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of teasing me.

Besides, Sloane was great to stare at. I mean, sure, she was banging hot, and looked crazy young for her age. I had literally mistaken her for Poppy from behind a week or so ago. But there were little things like her posture, and the way she carried herself that were... different from Poppy, or any of the girls I was involved with for that matter. She just moved through life like she knew what she was doing.

She wasn't all la di da, top of the world or anything. The delicate lines around her eyes showed that she had worries, or had had worries. I didn't know. But whatever, the world just wasn't still new to her.

I watched Poppy struggle in her third set. And I watched her mom from a distance, where she was standing by Miranda til the bitter end... which came mercifully quick. One of their teammates, a plain little Sophomore, had stuck by to watch, but had to go after Miranda went down. The day was getting late. The other two girls had left already. As far as I was concerned, Mrs. Raleigh hadn't built a very cohesive team attitude... You don't leave while your teammates are still competing.

Sloane walked over to me. When she saw me watching her approach, I swear she slowed down her stride. She finally slid up next to me. "What's our score?" she asked without a greeting.

"Poppy still has her break," I said. "She's serving at deuce right now. If she holds, she can serve for the match next time around."

"I'm aware how tennis scoring works," Sloane said dryly.

I grinned at her. "Since this is the third set, if she wins it, she wins the match," I added. Sloane looked at me like I was the ass I was being. "And since the overall score is 2-2, if Poppy wins her match, it looks good for you to notch a win as coach." I went on, with wide-eyed innocence.

She actually poked me in the ribs for that one, but giggled about as much as a grown adult woman can giggle. She was calling me the John McEnroe of high school sports when Melissa stomped over from her defeat.

Sloane immediately ignored me and went to give her a hug. Melissa was a good egg and wanted to stay to support Poppy, but Sloane sent her back to her dorm to wash away the defeat and have dinner.

"You have been here forever, Alistaire," she added. "You can head off if you want. I'm Poppy's mother. I should be enough of a cheering section for her."

"I like to see things through all the way," I said, groaning as Poppy fell back to deuce. "Besides, no Track and only a couple of easy classes has me pretty bored today. This helps..."

"Oh, you are bored, are you?" Sloane asked, suddenly somehow dangerous. "Well, in that case you can help me put everything away up here when Poppy is done. I can always find something for idle hands to do. No one is bored around me."

"No, I suppose not," I replied, glumly. I had not been expecting to pick up chores, for God's sake. I just wanted to ogle hot females in tennis attire. But I'll admit, I had been fantasizing a bit about how Sloane might keep me from being bored for a while now. Watching her as intently as I had been will do that to a guy.

I think she heard it in my voice, because her laugh was more hearty than evil.

Poppy held at last. And then, considerately, she broke to take the match, instead of making us wait for her to serve out the last game.

It really was getting late, and the other team and their coach vanished like smoke in what felt like seconds after the final point.

Poppy toweled herself down, which I found quite riveting to watch, as she walked up to us, a huge grin on her face. She and her mother fist-bumped, then hugged each other hard.

"Nice match," I said enthusiastically. "That hold in the next to last game was epic."

"I can't believe you are still here, Alistaire," Poppy said with a smile. "I appreciate it, though."

"I might have been out of here," I said easily, "except your mother has work for us to do, apparently."

"He told me he was having a boring day, so I drafted him," Sloane said easily.

"Oh dude! Never tell my mom that you are bored!" Poppy laughed. Then she hastily added, to her mother, "Just so you know, I am not bored. At all. I am sticky and hot and need a shower. And I have plans with some friends that I am going to be late for already."

Sloane laughed in turn and actually bumped hips with Poppy. "Go on! You did your part. And there is really very little to do up here, just the scorecards and stuff. Alistaire will be all the help I need. I'm really just punishing him for saying he was bored while he was in the middle of a conversation with me!"

"Hey! I didn't mean..." I started to protest, but they both just laughed at me.

"Thanks for coming, Alistaire," Poppy said with a very nice smile. Then she waved at us both and hightailed it before her mom could change her mind. I enjoyed watching her go, even in the baggy, shapeless uniform tennis skirt.

I'm pretty sure Sloane waited while I watched her daughter's ass...

"Anyway," she said after Poppy went out of sight, "All I really could use your help with is collecting the scorekeeping standards and bringing them over to the shed. All I need to do is push the basket of warmup balls over and put it away."

I grabbed the plastic poles with numbers on them that players use to indicate the score on each court, but found myself keeping my eyes still on Sloane as she bent to pick up a few stray balls left over from the match and put them in the practice ball bin. Her ass swayed quite arrestingly in that flowing white dress as she pushed the heavy cart toward the shed.

I collected the last scorekeeper and hustled after her.

Sloane locked the shed and we started walking back to where we had come.

My experiment in powering through her teases had led me to forget that openly appreciating the way Sloane looked might not be the wisest thing in the world...

When we went through the exit to the courts, right by the little parking lot where the other teams bus had long departed, Sloane stopped and turned toward me.

"You are a hard one to figure out, Alistaire," she said abruptly. Then she seemed to cut herself off.

"I'm sorry, what do you mean?" I asked, not wanting to have offended.

"The way you look at me is not... it doesn't fit."

Yikes! "I... I... I'm sorry, Sloane, Miss Manning, I didn't mean to..."

"Oh shut up, Alistaire," Sloane said briskly. "Men look at me. I'm quite used to it. But you don't do it the way I'd expect. It's off-putting... no, it's not at all, really. But it is strange."

"Uhhh..." I said articulately. I was not eager to be dressed down by an adult woman for scoping her out.

"The way you look at me is almost normal, but not for a young man like you," Sloane said, apparently thinking out loud, as if working through her thoughts. "Boys look at me. I know. But anytime I catch them at it, they do what they are supposed to do and shy away, pretending they weren't doing anything. Sometimes, when they are in a group, I'll hear them whispering or giggling when they think I've gone. Grown men will stare at me quite comfortably, some, in places like a bar or something, will be pretty brazen about it..." she trailed off. "Almost as brazen as you."

I was pretty much like a deer in the headlights. At least I was keeping my eyes on her face!

"You don't look at me like boys do, Alistaire," Sloane said sharply. "You look at me like a grown man, but in a lovely, youthful, boy's body."

Lovely?

"It's inappropriate, actually," she said, getting up a head of steam. "It's like you think I'm some kind of MILF."

'Literally', I thought to myself.

Her eyes widened and she inhaled a half-smiling gasp of shock, staring at me.

Oh shit. I'd said that out loud! Fuck, I have got to get those filters on my hormonal thoughts to stay in place except for when I actively want them to go away!

She laughed out loud and turned back beside me, and we resumed walking.

I am a very spoiled boy. Spoiled by success. Spoiled by getting away with just about everything I try, accidentally or on purpose.

And Sloane was most definitely literally a Mom I'd Like to Fuck...

As I walked beside her on the path, I let the back of my hand brush her hip for a fleeting second. I deliberately was not looking at her when I did. She flinched, but didn't say anything. And she didn't open the distance between us!

I let the back of my hand brush her hip again, but let it linger. She not only didn't flinch this time, she leaned into it a little. I was just thinking about flipping my hand over so that the palm would rest on her hip, maybe her ass, when Sloane finally, abruptly stopped.

I looked down at her. "Oh Alistaire..." she sighed. "You are going to be such a big mistake..."

I laughed shallowly. "You too, Sloane. Or you would be. There is just nowhere nearby where we could find enough privacy to make some awesome mistakes." It was a good out for her, and was sadly also true. We were close to the main campus, and while currently alone, there were no nooks or crannies nearby where I could get the awesome chance to feel up Poppy's mom.

"Oh really?" Sloane said archly. She took an audible breath. "I happen to have a four bedroom home, where I live alone, less than a mile from campus. And my car is right there in front of us."

We both leapt toward the big, white, GMC Yukon.

*

Neither of us said a word on the swift drive. I had pretty much forgotten that Poppy (like Jenn for that matter) had been a day student her first two years at school. I wondered if her parent's marital troubles had led to her becoming a boarding student.

Sloane slid the big SUV into her garage and let the door start to close before she cut it off and stared at me. I stared back. After a moment, grins crossed both our faces. The garage door clicked closed, and Sloane instantly was out of the vehicle. I followed as fast as I could find the door handle.

I slid through the garage door into the kitchen a few steps behind her. She had turned toward me, almost at bay. She looked a little flushed and wild around the eyes. Honestly, she looked horny as hell, which suited me Just. Fine. Our eyes met as I closed the distance between us. There was a complete understanding, I felt.

I should have been hesitant. I wanted to be hesitant. But I went right to her. My Male Instinct was in full flow, and I let it run. If I didn't want to seem like a hapless little boy with this beautiful, grown-ass woman, I was going to need every shred of my new, weirdly powerful confidence I could harness.

I lifted a hand to her jawline, stroked back along it until I was cupping the back of her head, ponytail in the crook of my thumb. I bent down to her, eyes still locked on hers, and kissed her, gently, but full on the lips. Her lids never shut, and the two of us stared into each other's depths as our lips caressed one another, finally parting and allowing our tongues to join the quietly intense party.

I tightened my grip on her ponytail, and she in turn wrapped her arms around my waist. I felt one hand trail downward and cup my ass. I lifted my free hand and caressed a lovely breast. It was warm, and firm, and even through her bra, I could feel her nipple hardening.

I tugged backward on Sloane's ponytail even further, baring her neck. I released our kiss and bent further to suck and nuzzle on her throat. "Oh... wow..." Sloane sighed.

I felt her hands release me and slide around between us. She began to fumble, albeit expertly at the fly on my trousers, but I said, "Uh uh!" I pulled her hands off me, very gently.

"What?" Sloane asked, confused.

"You first," I said, still devouring her neck. I released her breast and her hair and moved my hands under the short hem of her dress. I stroked the tight, brief modesty shorts she wore underneath, then tugged them downward. I felt no underwear beneath them. I slid them free and down her hips, caressing her smooth hard thighs as I went. She shivered.

I ran my hands up the outsides of her legs and grasped her bare ass with both hands. I turned her and popped her up to perch on the edge of the kitchen counter. She yelped a little, "Whee!"

"You first," I repeated softly.

I lifted one lithe leg, yanking off the shoe and sock. Then I stretched it out straight, holding on to her ankle. I kissed that ankle, then slowly, as slowly as I could restrain myself to do, I started kissing and nibbling my way up the inside of her leg. I forced myself to take my time.

I'll tell you, decades of practice make a difference in shaving, apparently. There was not a single stubble on this woman's glass-smooth leg, and believe me I'd have found it, given all my exploring. I bent more and more as I moved closer to my destination. As I drew near, Sloane pulled the hem of her tennis dress up.

She did not shave her pussy. It was lightly trimmed between her legs, but otherwise a glorious tangle of unruly black hair that was visibly damp. "Well," she said as she revealed herself. "It's been a while, and I was not expecting to have visitors, or I'd have cleaned up a bit more." She was almost apologetic.

I just couldn't restrain myself and dove the rest of the way between her thighs. The moisture of her hair smelled and tasted delicious as I buried my face in her. She instantly moaned in response to my arrival. I draped the extended leg that I had kissed the length of over my shoulder and back, and then moved my hand between her legs to trace the length of her slit. Sloane hissed as I used two fingertips to part the tangled hair. My tongue dove into her, probing hard and eager. Sloane only moaned more deeply.

My upper lip found her clit and my tongue followed, making her shiver in response. I took the fingers that had parted her hair and slid them inside her as I let my tongue lavish care on that little bud.

Suddenly, Sloane's hands were both buried in the hair atop my head and she held me in place as her hips bucked slightly against my face.

I wanted to make her come, and fast. I wanted her to know that I could do that for her. I rolled my tongue on her clit and probed upward inside her with my fingers, seeking where she kept that special node of nerve endings. I knew I found it when Sloane started crooning happily. I stroked away, as gently as I could, and suckled on her clit.

"Holy shit!" Sloane cried loudly. Her whole body quaked as convulsions took her. She only remained upright because of her desperate grip on my head. I would, in retrospect, have appreciated a gentler grip on my hair, but in the moment it was awesome. I held my attention on her clit while the convulsions lasted. I'd have kept going, but there was so much more I wanted to do to this woman, should she give me the chance. I raised my head slowly and took in the crazed, glazed look on her face, sweat suddenly beading on her forehead.

"What the fuck was that?" Sloane gasped with a huge smile. "How the hell did you learn to eat pussy like that?"

That seemed like a loaded question. Still... I am an utterly cocky bastard these days, so... "Practice, practice, practice," I said with a leer.

Sloane, still panting, looked at me askance. "I'm pretty sure that I don't want to know." We both chuckled. "I almost want to beg for another practice session," she said, suddenly swinging her legs up and onto the kitchen counter, pointing away from me, "but you interrupted my own little demonstration that I really, really want to get back to." With that, she rolled over onto her stomach on the countertop. She reached out over the edge and grabbed the waistband of my pants. She pulled me forward and yanked my fly open. I pulled my shirt up out of the way. With swift movements, Sloane tugged loose my underwear and shoved my pants downward.

My cock sprang free and waved in front of her.

"Very nice," Sloane observed happily. "It's appropriate, considering how 'cocky' you are."

It had happened. For the first time, someone saw my tumescent dick and had not freaked out in surprise, fear, or glee (usually all three).

I was actually disappointed. For about half a second. Then Sloane reached out, grabbed the base of my shaft in a gently expert fashion and slid forward, hanging off the counter's edge to suck my head straight into her mouth! Holy shit, indeed.

She braced herself on the counter with her free hand, and began to stroke me just a hair more urgently than idle. Then she sucked hard on my knob at the same time as she was slipping her mouth off of me, ending in an audible pop. She slid her hand up to grasp my newly soaked head and then slid back down, lubricating my shaft with the saliva she had collected.

Then she repeated the whole thing three more times until my entire cock was dripping in saliva and my helmet was practically purple like a bruise in agonized arousal.

"Ready to start?" Sloane smiled up at me wickedly.

"Start!?!" I could not help but gasp.

She just smiled and firmly guided my head back between her lips. She suckled on me gently, just letting my cock rest in her mouth. It was amazing, but didn't seem like the epic whatever she had been intimating. Her hand slipped from my shaft and went around to grasp my ass.

And she pulled me forward, driving my cock deeper into her mouth. I moaned as I slid deeper. I hit the back of her throat and she hacked a little. I pulled back quickly in alarm. Her hand clamped down hard on my ass, however, stopping my retreat. After a moment, she pulled me back toward her again. I felt myself hit the back her throat and slide beyond. Way beyond. I shivered at the sensation of distending her throat. She gently released the pressure on my ass, and I gasped in pleasure as I pulled myself back. Then she stopped me again, and pushed me back in.

In a few passes, I was fucking her mouth, even her throat. I stared in amazement as I thrust in and out of her face. Her concentration was fierce as she fought to maintain her breath, and her eyes watered with the effort. But she kept encouraging me with her fingertips.

I was at a boil almost instantly. This was way crazier, more advanced cock sucking than I had ever imagined. "You are making me come already!" I gasped. Her pressure on my ass immediately slacked. She lifted her head and I backed off, letting my entire length slide free of her mouth. She grasped my shaft and pumped furiously, kissing and licking at the tip. I moaned as I came to a boil and she pulled back, letting my cum spray all over her face. She smiled, eyes closed as I jetted over and over on her happy features. I almost fell down. Spent, I staggered back half a step, a last drop of cum dripping out of my cock.

"Still got it," Sloane said happily to herself, sitting up on the countertop and grabbing a bunch of paper towels. She wiped and cleaned her face of both cum and tears and in moments looked as fresh and amazing as before we started.

I stepped forward, grabbed either side of her head and kissed her gleefully. We each tasted our own fluids on the other's mouth, and only kissed each other harder. Sloane tugged up on my shirt and pulled it over my head. I kicked my shoes and pants off together in a tangle, standing naked before her. I reached out and took Sloane's hand, helping her to stand up again. I caressed my hands down her front, over her breasts, down her tummy, and to her hips. I bunched up the fabric of her dress and pulled upward. She raised her hands eagerly and I slid the garment free. Her bra was white and sheer, giving me a very nice view of her rosy aureoles and crazily erect nipples through the fabric.