Block Mom

He still thought she was hot. That wasn't the point. But ever since he lost his virginity at sixteen, there had been dozens of hot women. She was a MILF, but he'd fucked scores of them, and nowadays he generally liked his pussy about his age. He was even thinking about going back early to see if any of the sorority sisters he gangbanged with his teammates were around. They were always good for a quick, nasty screw.

Eh, get this done for his fuck brothers, and then he'd reevaluate things.

Milo told them Emilia's schedule, and Jaxton showed up just after one in the afternoon, freshly showered and looking good in white slacks and a tan canvas shirt. He'd started dressing better at college when his coach told him he looked like a bum.

He knocked and let himself in. Mrs. Candless was in the living room, and immediately Jaxton rethought his earlier assessment that Emilia was just another MILF.

Her leg jutted straight out to one side as she bent the other direction, stuck right in the middle of a half-moon yoga pose. Her form was excellent but that sure as shit wasn't what he was staring at. Her ass, in a pair of tight exercise shorts, was outlined in every detail. If she was wearing panties, the shorts were doing a damned miraculous job of hiding them.

She pushed her hand off the floor and twirled, still staying on one foot. Her frown turned into a smile. "Jaxton, you scared me."

"Sorry," he grunted. He closed the door behind him, and nodded at her. "Half-moon looked good."

"You know yoga?" she asked, surprised. One foot dropped back as she did a basic lunge, spreading one hand in front of her, the other behind. She must have been at this a while. Sweat beaded on her brow and dampened her sports bra.

He stared for a moment at her bared midriff, then back up at her. "Uh. Yeah. Football. Coach makes us do it for balance."

"Have a seat or grab a drink. I'm almost done here. Unless you want to join in."

That made Jaxton smile. "I'll bring shorts the next time."

He sat and watched her stretch. Well, more specifically, he stared at her curvy ass in those shorts. Maybe he'd slept with more beautiful women but he was hard-pressed to think of any in that moment that turned him on more. Watching that ass stretch drove his cock to full hardness, and for a moment, he thought about doing what he had planned right there in the house. But his idea had been so damned appealing, it was hard to let it go that easily.

Instead, he waited until Mrs. Candless finished up. She snatched up her yoga mat and rolled it up, looking over at him with a gleam in her eyes. "So what are you up to today?"

"You want to go see a movie?"

Emilia blinked, and looked confused. "I thought... a movie?"

She thought they were going to jump right to the fooling around, like with Milo. Oh, did she have a surprise coming. "Let me rephrase. Mrs. Candless, get dressed, because I'm dragging you out on a date."

That broke through her confusion and got a smile out of her. She headed for the bedroom and stuffed away the yoga mat in a pantry. As she headed into the bedroom, Jaxton realized it'd be a couple days before he saw her properly nude -- and that was fucking criminal, considering Milo already had and Simon most definitely would soon. He stood up, yawning, and followed her down the hallway.

Mrs. Candless had shut her door, but there were no locks on any of the rooms, so he just opened it. She jumped when she saw him staring at her, her fingers at the waistband of her shorts. He said nothing, just watched, and Emilia blushed hard as she turned slowly, putting her ass in his direction before slipping the shorts down over nothing but skin.

"God. Damn," Jaxton muttered.

She had the ass of a woman ten years younger. Some cellulite and a little sag, sure, but goddamn fit for someone nearing forty. Her pussy lips hung big and juicy, just begging for someone to lick them. He very nearly did.

"You are so fucking ready for it, aren't you? Some young cock?"

Mrs. Candless stood back upright, but didn't speak. She hoisted her sports bra up over her tits. He couldn't see much from this side, save the slopes of them on the side.

"Turn for me."

She did, dropping the bra to the floor. Her big nipples ended in an upward peak, looking desperately like they needed to be sucked. Her dark hair was still in a ponytail. He stepped forward, hands rising not to her breasts, but to her hair. He freed it, and pulled it down across her shoulders so it spilled down beside her breasts. Her lips parted with him so close, her chest rising and falling, her cheeks burning bright. He slipped out his phone, and she instinctively covered herself.

"Don't," Jaxton warned her.

"But-"

"You are our slut now. What you want, what you're embarrassed by, I don't give a fuck about. I want something to jack off to when I'm thinking about home. You're it."

"You're all terrible," Emilia breathed, but her hand dropped, and she looked away as he began to snap pictures.

"Yeah. We are," Jaxton said, his grin toothy. "Turn around."

She did, looking back over her shoulder at his command. He took dozens of pictures, making her bend over, spreading her ass cheeks so he could get a close up of her puckered bud and her pussy lips. He pushed her back towards the bed and had her lay there, spreading herself wide for him while he took more photos. Emilia asked him to please delete the ones where her face was visible, but he just laughed. Eventually, bored and horny, he told her they were done, and went to her closet to look through what she had for clothes.

It took him a long while to find what he wanted her to wear. He shoved aside her jeans, her tee shirts, the work blouses and skirts. That left about a fifth of her closet space, not much, and he frowned at the sparse few sexy outfits she had in there. He grabbed her a short sundress spotted in sunflowers, and a matching pair of bikini briefs and a bra.

As she dressed, he lounged against a wall, watching. "You need sexier clothes. You're our slut now. You look the part."

"But Jim-"

"The hell does Jim have to do with anything?" Jaxton snapped. "What did I just say? Whose slut are you?"

"Yours," she whispered. "Yours. Milo's. Simon's."

"Good. So what are you going to do?"

"Wear sexier things."

He stepped forward and patted her butt. "That's it."

They headed out together, taking his car. He sang along to the radio, ignoring Emilia as she sat in the corner, a hand at her chin, staring blankly out the windows.

* * *

Like Milo, Jaxton paid for everything. The tickets to the action comedy. The popcorn, The drinks. Emilia had a hard time focusing in on any of it. She'd been fighting back tears ever since he photographed her nude. Not that she hadn't liked it -- she loved it. Never had she done such a thing, not even for Jim. Oh, she'd sent him plenty of boob pics throughout the years, and a few times even her pussy. But her face had never been in the shots. If someone saw those pictures, they'd know what a filthy slut she really was for her block boys.

And the fact that Emilia loved that thought sent her spiraling deeper and deeper in to that confused mire of lust and confusion.

The movie they picked was an older one, probably due to leave the theaters any day now. There was a reason for that, though she didn't understand it right away. Jaxton picked a spot at the back, guiding her down the rows of seats. Maybe eight other people sat in the theater, scattered in groups of ones and twos. The pre-preview trivia and advertisements rolled away merrily on the screen, reminding the viewer to guzzle soft drinks by the gallons and stuff their faces full of candy and popcorn.

The pair still hadn't said much to each other. Emilia kept glancing at Jaxton. Reconciling Milo with the boy he'd been to the man he'd become had been difficult. He'd always been the sweetest of the bunch, even over her own Landon. Seeing his near-cruelty shocked her to her very core.

But with Jaxton, she'd always suspected there was a mean streak in him -- or at least a hyper-aggressive one. Any given position he played in football, he approached it like he was always out to kill. As a defensive lineman in his freshman year of high school, he'd once nearly broken the spine of an opposing quarterback when he hit him with a spear so hard it shocked the field into silence.

But he was also still the boy who tutored Emilia's son through algebra. Who liked to bake cookies with her. Who she'd once held when he had his heart broken as a fourteen or fifteen year old, him sobbing like a baby. Who had been the one among his friends to look at her with the most disguised lust, who she thought of as a good kid, who she would have never guessed would make her strip so he could take intimate pictures of her most forbidden flesh.

There were tears there in the dark of the theater, then. But there was also the other half of Emilia. The questioning lust.

Jaxton had her naked back at the house. Why hadn't he done anything to her? He'd obviously been turned on. Why had he not jacked off, or made her jerk him off like with Milo, or fucked her tits, or done... well, anything? That Emilia would have let him, there was no question. She was well and truly beyond the point of saying no to anything any of the three demanded.

Why was he letting her squirm? Didn't he know how wet she was for him? How ready?

Emilia reached over in the darkness and gripped his knee. He looked at her, smirking, and shoved another handful of popcorn into his mouth before his attention returned to the screen. "Milo bet you'd break first," he said after he swallowed. "You just cost me twenty bucks."

"It was an accident," Emilia breathed.

"Bullshit."

She didn't say anything to that, mostly because she knew he was right. She took the popcorn from him and dropped it into the seat to her left. Jaxton reached across her for it, his arm pressed against her tits in the summer dress. She grabbed his hand, and glaring at him, guided it to the fabric between her thighs.

"You don't get anything today," he said.

"What?"

"Not a fingering, not me eating you out, nothing." He glanced at her again. Such a hard face. So sweet when he wanted to look that way, but there was little of that boy left. Maybe nothing at all. "Today you learn about what we're going to take from you."

"What does that mean?" she murmured.

The pre-preview ads cut away to the first movie trailer. Jaxton reached down and casually unzipped himself. She looked down, and in the dim theater lighting, she sucked in a breath. He was big too. Not as long as Milo, but thicker. Fatter.

"Fifteen minutes of previews, maybe. And the movie, the run time is one hour fifty-three minutes," he said. "Start to finish. Factor in maybe six minutes for the credits, and I don't want to hang around for those. That means you got maybe two hours. You're going to get on your knees or bend over and blow me. If you haven't made me come four times by then, the games are done. No Simon. Not a chance of the three of us coming back to fuck you." Jaxton dug in his pocket and held up his keys. "I'll even give you these. You can walk out of here right now, go home, and never touch me. You won't see us the rest of the summer."

Emilia snatched the keys from him. A sense of savage joy speared her heart when she saw a genuine look of shock on his face. He thought she really was going to walk out. Emilia nearly did. Her butt left the seat, still so humiliated about the pictures, and raw from Milo's savage turn of character, and... all of this. It was so goddamn overwhelming. She wanted to go home and throw a blanket over her head and never come out. She wanted to rush to Jim and tell him the truth. She wanted...

She wanted.

Jaxton's shock turned to a slow, easy grin. Emilia hesitated, then slowly leaned over to kiss him, her cheeks still glistening with her earlier tears. He wiped them away, and stopped just long enough to cup her cheek in one of his massive hands.

"You can go," he told her, and despite it all, she knew he meant it. Here was the last kernel of the boy she knew, caring about her. But Emilia's mind was made up, and she gave him back the keys.

There would be so little room if she got on her knees between his. She tried anyways, looking around to make sure they weren't being watched before rising up and standing in front of him. Feeling saucy, she raised the back of her dress right in Jaxton's face. He surprised her by wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her back to him, burying his face against her bud and giving her one single, solitary lick through the fabric of her panties. She thought she felt him shiver. Then she turned, and knelt on the vaguely sticky hard flooring, scrunching up with him as tight as she could, grinning up at him as she reached for that big fat prick.

The prick of another one of her son's friends.

Her heels pushed against the seat behind her, Jaxton had to spread his knees wide to accommodate her, but he didn't look down or otherwise acknowledge the hot mom. With one last look around, she gripped his cock in both hands, brought her head forward, and licked his tip.

Slut, Milo whispered in her mind. Our dirty slut.

Emilia shuddered with pleasure at the thought. Every inch of her thrilled to this. At licking Jaxton's dick. At the size, yes, but also at the neatness of him, the carefully trimmed hair, the fresh scent of him, the care he obviously gave himself like Milo. When was the last time Jim had trimmed? When had he ever been so enticing as this young man's prick?

She traced her tongue up and down the first inch of Jaxton, teasing him, getting him good and hard. Then she explored all the way down to his root, pushing him up towards his belly with one hand while she licked and kissed his length. His balls were fucking huge too. She hesitated at them, but decided if she was in this, she was in it, and ran her tongue along the skin. Jaxton jerked at that, and she grinned to herself. One easy target for her tongue had been found. She sucked that ball into her mouth, whipping her tongue around it, making him rock back and forth in his seat.

Emilia stopped the torture quickly and jetted to his tip, sucking the first half inch into her mouth, bobbing back and forth on that short bit. Just the helm of him was enough to make her have to open wide, and she loved it. Jaxton obviously did too. His tip was already leaking, and the first preview hadn't even finished yet. He munched away on the popcorn, his eyes never leaving the screen, his hand never touching her. Well, that was just fuel to Emilia's fire. He'd pay her attention before this was through. Oh hell yes he would.

Her sucking and licking intensified. She knew from experience with Jim and a few other guys that if you wanted a man to come and come fast, it wasn't deep throating that was going to do the trick, but working their first inch or two. And she worked Jaxton with every trick she had, swirling her head side to side, licking his base, rubbing his tip against the roof of her mouth. She plunged down once, hard, a tease of what was to come, and took him all the way to the tonsils, making him jump again.

The first preview ended. The MILF paused, holding Jaxton halfway into her mouth, looking around, sure someone would say something like, "Oh my God, that slut's on her knees blowing that man." But no, there was some light whispers, the usual wannabe theater critics saying, "Oh, that looks good," or, "Not going to see that." Christ, she hated going to movies. Then again, if she got more opportunities like this, maybe she'd be a fan in the future.

The second trailer hit with a slow wailing cover of a seventies pop song. She moved again, surging down Jaxton's cock, tongue whipping across his base. She wanted his come. She wanted it right the hell now. He shifted in his chair. Was that a grunt? She grinned around him and bobbed harder, up and down her son's friend. God, this was dirty. What was she kneeling on? Pop? Something worse? The thought should have disgusted her and it did, but with it came another surge of pleasure. She glanced left and right. Still no one.

Go for broke.

Jaxton's grunt this time was audible as she licked his tip, his underside. Something boomed on the screen, and the cover picked up pace as the narrator growled about a chosen one. A hand on her head. Soft, surprisingly soft. A double tap. Maybe Emilia had never blown Jaxton before, but that was pretty universal sign language. She tried to pull away, but Jaxton gripped the back of her head, and with a squawk, her head was shoved down on his length.

Come blasted the back of Emilia's throat, her tonsils. She fought the urge to cough, to let some of the come escape her mouth with a gasp. The seal she kept over Jaxton's cock trembled as he just kept going and going. Youth. She'd forgotten about this, the seemingly never-ending virility of them, the sheer amounts young men could and would fill her with.

His grip on her head lessened. She jerked to her feet and collapsed on the chair next to him before grabbing a fistful of napkins from her purse and coughing into them so explosively they got glares from a couple of the audience members. She gasped, "Sorry," and clutched at her diet soda, sucking it down and alleviating some of the burning in the back of her throat.

Into Jaxton's ear, Emilia hissed, "You asshole."

He grinned, and offered her the popcorn. She hesitated, then took a handful to throw in his face. That got a genuine snicker out of him.

They watched the rest of the previews in silence, more for her recovery than his. The onslaught of ads, movie previews, and reminders to shut off their cell phones (and eat the overpriced snacks and chug down that soda, chug it all down, hallelujah) just kept going on and on and on. Emilia reached out for Jaxton's cock more out of boredom than anything else, and was shocked and pleased to discover him hard again.

She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Move your soda to the other side." He did, and she raised the divider between them. Before she could bend over, though, Jaxton grabbed her arm. She looked at him, and he flicked a finger towards the aisle. An usher swept a flashlight up and down the lane, and Emilia settled back, sure the guy was looking for them. Instead, he headed down halfway to the theater, leaning in to speak to a person near the wheelchair access spot. Whatever they talked about was brief, and the usher came back up the aisle and disappeared back out to the lobby. Emilia watched the aisle for a minute or two to make sure the woman in the wheelchair wasn't going to come up their way, and then hurried to bend over and take Jaxton's cock in her mouth again.

Where Emilia didn't use her hands much the first time, now she grabbed his base and jacked his root at the same time as she slobbered all over his tip again. Jaxton rested a hand on the back of her head, and got more into it as the opening studio credits rolled. He was slick and gross with some of the come she hadn't swallowed down the first time, but there was nothing clean about what she was doing. Not by a longshot. This was dirty, one of the dirtiest things she'd done, and her mind reeled from the insanity of it. She was blowing a young man who just a couple years ago would have been illegal. Fucking hell.

A wisecracking narrator began to tell the story of his life, but from that point forward, Emilia gave the movie almost no attention. She tossed her head back, watching Jaxton try so hard to ignore her as she jerked his base with both hands.

"I love how fat your dick is," she breathed in his ear.

"You're not sucking," he murmured back.

"Tell me you don't love it."

He grinned -- slightly, but it was there. Then she bent over and devoured him again. His hand roamed from her head down her spine, and she shivered under his touch. Emilia wanted him right then and there, and if he'd asked for it, she would have swung her leg over Jaxton and fucked her athletic young man until he came in her tight, so-very-wet pussy. But he didn't. He squeezed her ass, stroked her back, plunged her head down on his cock from time to time, and just kept watching the movie.