Cock-Blocked by Mom

Darcy stood on a small rise of land, just above the park, surveying the activities below her. Picnic tables were everywhere, and people bustled like ants between them, spreading tablecloths, plates, silverware and platters of tinfoil covered food. The bright summer sun made her blonde hair shine like a halo above her head, and the white mini dress she wore gave her an almost angelic appearance.

She was meant to be down there helping, but rarely did Darcy do tasks that anyone, especially her mother, assigned to her.

Instead, she studied the ants, looking for one specific insect. Scanning the growing pile of them, hurrying back and forth. He'd mentioned in class, the last day before summer break, that he'd be attending the Blistering Summer Picnic with his family, and she'd made a note to not absent herself this year from the event.

Normally she couldn't be bothered with attending, there were far too many other stimulating activities she could find. But this year was different; she and Mr. D had this weird, flirty thing going on in Psych class and it mattered little to Darcy that her mom and Mr. D's wife were book club friends. Once that part of her brain lit up, count on all hell breaking loose, with Darcy at the center, creating the hell.

Darcy's path was different than her siblings; community college (hence her class with Mr. D), with a job answering the phone at the town's only new car dealer. The owner, another of her male conquests.

"Aha." Spying his car pull into the parking lot. "There you are, Mr. D." She pinpointed him, wearing a light blue t-shirt and jeans, alighting from the car, wife and kiddies following behind like lemmings.

A quick adjustment of the dress and she was off, down the hill and on her way to join the worker ants.

It took very little time for her to hone in on where he stood, talking with a group of other dads. Any one of whom would be happy to take Darcy behind the pavilion and rail her silly, given the appreciative glances thrown her way as she walked past.

She saw his sherry-colored eyes join those watching her pass by and directed her patented 'come-hither' look in his direction. Knowing he'd join her, based on his text last night.

The one where he'd finally admitted that fucking her was the only thing he could think of lately. The thought that consumed his every waking moment. Darcy nodded as she read his words; the same thoughts consumed her as well.

Of course, she didn't have a wife and kids, so there was that small difference, but hardly her concern, was it? What Darcy wanted, Darcy got, through means fair or foul.

Growing up, playing in this park since early childhood gave Darcy the advantage of knowing exactly where to plan a rendezvous. Off behind the main pavilion and bathrooms was a thick copse of woods, the ground a soft bed of moss - not that she'd had occasion to lie there before, beneath a man. Well, maybe once or twice.

Perhaps a white dress was not her best choice, but Darcy didn't figure she'd hang around once she and Mr. D had done the deed. He'd feel all guilty and rush back to the wife and kids, and then she'd be bored. Plus, she had to work in an hour, or something like that.

Wrapped up in her own thoughts, Darcy almost missed running straight into her mother. Unfortunately, her mother was planted right smack in the middle of the aisle and a collision was unavoidable.

"Well, look who decided to join us this year." Her tone snapped Darcy immediately out of her contemplation of exactly HOW she was going to do Mr. D - would it be missionary? God, she hoped not. That was total old school and old person, and she wasn't either. Maybe reverse cowboy? Going deep and riding the fuck out of him until he blew inside her? There probably wouldn't be enough time to go down on him first, so hopefully the strip tease she'd planned would be enough to get him going.

"Oh shite." She actually swore out loud and knew immediately her mom would threaten to wash her mouth out with soap just like a little kid.

Instantly, she knew her plan to fuck the hell out of Mr. D was dead in the water. She'd have to figure out another time and place, damnit.