Mom, Dee, Nicole & Me Pt. 02

My son's going to fuck Nicole like that, the voice said.

And then he's going to fuck me.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my orgasm finally washed over me and my knees buckled. When the world finally swam into view, I just had time to see Roy pulling off the little slut, before she looked up.

I barely had enough time to run down the stairs and out of the gym and into the car, before I peeled off into the night, back home.

Thankfully, my son didn't hear me come in, just in time to collapse onto the bed.

***

Dee:

Even in the middle of my cunt-shattering orgasm, I knew who the woman in the doorway was. For a moment, I wondered if I should tell Mr. B that the mother of his son had caught us in the act, then decided against it, as I rolled out of the bed and began to daub at the cum on my belly and shirt with a wad of tissues.

We'd have to talk, her and I. Just not now; not yet.

Mr. B pulled up his clothes and began to roll a cigarette, offering me one.

"No thanks. I should go," I said, the shame set in, but slowly.

"I can drive you," he offered but didn't mean it. I just shook my head and headed downstairs, picking my sweatpants and thong, now neatly folded on the bench. I had to laugh. Even when peeping, Ms. Sara was a mom, first and foremost.

Stepping out into the chilly June air, I went back home and showered, then lingered in bed until dawn came. When it was finally light enough to go outside, I ran. When I was good and sick of running, I went to his house and climbed in through the tree, into the window.

"Yo, what are you-" he said, as I grabbed his cock and jerked him off. I felt my cunt spasm as he came in my hand, his body melting into mine. He tried to kiss me, but I pulled away.

"Don't make it weird, dude," I lied, then ran back and out, lingering at the corner until Ms. Sara's car drove off, with him by his side, off to see Nicole.

I need to tell you something, I typed it out on my phone, then deleted the message.

I can't do this anymore, I tried again after lunch, but it didn't feel right.

Yo, dude- No.

I think we should- who am I kidding?

My man, your Mom's kind of a freak nope. Nope. Nope.

Can we talk? I typed, let my finger hover over the Send button at midnight, then deleted it. It wasn't the time yet. It would never be the right time. I could never-

Sunday went by, then my phone buzzed, just after dinner time. It was a text message from his mother, just 3 words long:

We should talk.