Mom Gets Marked

Mom must have sensed my annoyance because she tried to clarify. "He wasn't disappointed. He said he likes mothers. He just didn't expect that I would have a two year-old because I don't have a 'mom bod.'"

He said he likes mothers? Who the fuck says something like that? I know this guy presents as a "Blue Collar Boss," but that shit is way too blue collar. And he's a gut-busting slob who doesn't like mom bods? He sounds like a pig. Of course my mother thinks he's a catch. Her taste in men is fucking sus to say the least.

"What a charmer," I said drily.

"He really is," my mother said, oblivious to my sarcasm. "We were in the middle of planning our second date when your text came in. He asked me who was texting me, so I had to explain to him that I have a twenty-one year-old daughter and a two year-old son. And, yeah, he was a bit surprised. He was even more surprised when I told him that he has also been texting with my daughter!"

August laughed out loud at that, but I winced. "Mom!" I whined. "Why did you have to tell him that? He would have never known! That was the entire point!"

"I couldn't help it," she protested. "He asked me a question about my dating profile and I had to tell him I've never seen it. I didn't want to lie to him!"

"Oh my God, Mom, you're such a Boomer," I told her. "So why do you need my help?"

My mother looked momentarily sheepish, but quickly regained her poise and forged ahead. "Mark said that he doesn't mind sharing me, as long as he gets equal time. Since I had to cut our date short to nurse Tyler, he wants me to make it up to him. He said he would text you the details," she added with a giggle. "Can you make the arrangements with him, honey? Please? For me?

I kind of like this guy!"

I can't remember the last time I heard my mother beg like that. I wanted her to tell Mark to go fuck himself. Better yet, I wanted to tell him personally. He sounds like an insufferable narcissist. He doesn't mind "sharing" a mother with her child, but he demands "equal time?" I see more red flags than a NASCAR race, which is something this fat fucking hillbilly probably enjoys, but clearly my mother saw something positive in the man and I didn't want to discourage her from dating, especially after I went to all this trouble to get her out there again. "Sure, mom, I can text him. I'll set up another date for you two. You make a cute couple!"

I laid the sarcasm on thick, but my mother still didn't pick up on it. "That's so nice of you to say!" she beamed delightedly. "Do you really think so?"

I wanted to answer that with an even more withering blast of sarcasm. "Yeah, Mom, I really think a hairy, overweight old ape-man and a gorgeous blonde bombshell make a cute couple."But I bit my tongue. Then I caught sight of mom's dress from the side and I swear she isn't wearing a bra. There is no way! I didn't say anything about that either. I just bit my tongue harder.

August and I gathered our bags and got ready to go back to our dorm. Mom wouldn't let us leave without sending some food with us, so she rummaged around in the freezer until she came up with a tray of brookies. "They're half brownie, half cookie and all delicious!" she said as she presented them to August on our way out to the car.

"If you made them, Ms. Mayer, then I'm sure they're delicious!" she replied coquettishly.

Wait... "Ms. Mayer" made me... was August saying I'm delicious? I mean, she would know. She had her tongue down my throat a few hours ago. ABF should be this girl's motto: always be flirting. As we drove away, I wondered if August intended to do more than just flirt. I played some music to distract myself from the anxious thoughts racing through my head. I wanted to hook up with August so fucking bad, but all of a sudden I felt shy and small, like I wanted her to take the lead and make the first move. My stomach was doing somersaults from the anticipation.

It was late by the time we swiped into the dorm, but we weren't tired. It was so good to be back. I felt more at home here than in my actual home, which was weird. I just feel so free at school. As much as I love babysitting Tyler and being my mother's online dating Sherpa, it is a relief to be back in my dorm room, away from adult responsibilities. This place is lit. August made sure of it. We've got a bead curtain in front of the door, LED lights around the edge of the entire ceiling, a video projector, and a better speaker system than most clubs. Not to mention my bed, the coziest place on earth. If a pillow fight ever breaks out, I'll have ammunition for days!

The only thing our room doesn't have is a private bathroom. As lowly sophomores, we have to share a bathroom with the other girls on our floor. I had to walk down the hallway in order to wash off my make up and start my nighttime skin care routine. When I returned to the room, it was dark except for a neon purple glow from the LED lights, and August was setting up her dab rig.

We live in "substance free" housing, but recreational marijuana is legal and, besides, how would campus police or the resident assistant ever find out about it anyhow? We're not dumbasses like the guys on the floor above us who got caught smoking flower. If you want to avoid detection, all you have to do is hit a vape cartridge, eat an edible, apply a tincture, drink a seltzer, or dab rosin, resin, wax, sugar, seaglass, butter, brick hash, crumble, kief, or whatever the fuck else these dispensaries are slinging. Anything besides flower, the stench of which simply cannot be hidden. Even I know that and I'm still a rookie in the cannabis game. The only reason I know anything about it is because my roommate is a seasoned vet.

August keeps a quartz banger, a dab tool, a stopper and two terp pearls soaking in isopropyl alcohol. She has a small tub that she fills with bottled water so that she could thoroughly rinse each piece before setting up the water pipe. She has to use bottled water because the alternative is to take the whole fucking rig down the hall to clean it in the bathroom. She didn't ask me if I wanted to dab with her; she just told me to pick one of the little rosin jars, then started rattling off my options. "Papaya Widow, Colorado Chem, Trilla, Guava Sorbet, Guava Lava, Dripz

or Sugar Shack," she offered.

The fucking options this girl has! "What's Trilla?" I asked.

"It's Gorilla Glue #4 crossed with Platinum Candy Mintz." August was like a human Wikipedia for weed. She knew her shit. The girl could recite strain lineages further back than most people can trace their own family history. "It's mostly indica so it would be a good choice before we go to bed."

Before we go to bed, huh? I think August knew what I wanted to hear.

"Perfect," I said. "It's Trilla time."

August opened a small jar and scooped a generous dollop of the hash rosin, which had a consistency like Play Doh and smelled vaguely like grape Kool Aid. Then she fired up the butane torch lighter and held the tip of the blue flame at the bottom of the banger. She set a timer on her phone for thirty seconds. When the alarm rang, she turned off the torch ligher and set another timer for thirty seconds for the banger to cool. On her signal, I leaned in and began inhaling through the mouthpiece. The water bubbled furiously. August picked up the loaded dab tool and wiped the rosin gently against the inside of the banger, where the heat immediately vaporized it. She capped the banger with a glass stopper, trapping the vapor until I drew it all into my lungs. The hit was cool enough for me to hold it in a second, before I dramatically exhaled, like a dragon breathing fire. In an instant, I was high as fuck and I knew that I was about to leave the planet.

Everything slowed down and I felt a warm tingly glow envelope my body as the THC hit me in waves. I lay down on my bed in a state of bliss, staring up at the purple lights like they were a pathway to the stars. "I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me," I hummed to myself.

When August joined me on the bed and began kissing my neck, it all felt so natural and easy, like I had manifested my ideal lover. She kissed her way with confidence along my jawline and underneath into the soft, erogenous crook of my neck. It was like she knew exactly what my body craved. Her nose nuzzled into my jugular vein, rubbing small little circles against my sensitive skin, making me feel weightless and floaty as she claimed my neck. The feel of her warm breath almost tickled, but not quite, as if her kisses were too beautiful and buttery to give anything but pleasure. I wanted her to cover me in those kisses, sprinkling them all over my body like summer rain. I could feel myself growing hot in my clothes, like I would burn up if I didn't get out

of them soon.

August continued burrowing into my neck, using her nose, lips, tongue and teeth to tease all my most sensitive spots. A small moan escaped from my throat. I know she heard it because she redoubled her efforts, kissing my neck harder, using her teeth more. I felt goosebumps.

August began running her fingers through my hair while she devoured my neck. I reached out and took hold of her head in my hands, cradling it as she kissed and nipped at my warm skin. Her hair is short enough that I can really feel the shape of her head -- ironic, I thought, because I can't feel my own head. The concentrated potency of that hash rosin had me feeling like my body was melting into the bed, while my mind wandered out among the dazzling purple lights.

When August finally stopped kissing my neck, I was squirming with arousal. She lifted her head out of my neck, lowered her face into mine until we were nose to nose, looking deep into one another's eyes, and then she kissed me. August's lips met mine and we began slowly making out, our tongues languidly dancing in rhythm. The sounds of sloppy kissing filled the room like a soothing lullaby. We kissed without shame or inhibition, like lovers reunited after a long absence. I closed my eyes and saw stars shooting across the darkness. But I could do more than just see stars; I felt them, too, radiating out of my fingers and toes. I felt a massive energy surge through me. I shook with arousal. August gently removed her grip on my hair so that we could hold hands and soon we were rolling around on the bed, our fingers and our clothed bodies deeply intertwined. Her tiny shorts left every inch of those long, smooth, slender legs bare. My body was so hot that her exposed skin felt cold through the rough denim of my jeans.

August's breasts are smaller than mine, but just as lovely. Perfecty shaped, preternaturally firm, I felt them press down against my ample bosom, quivering and hot beneath my shirt. Her nipples were painfully hard as she settled into position on top of me, kissing me hard and urgently. Our hands gripped each other tightly and became still, so that the only movement was between our mouths as we kissed with wild abandon. We stayed that way, with August on top, for long enough to lose ourselves in the glorious exchange of tongues.

I was gasping for air and mewling with need when August finally unlocked her lips from mine. The next thing I felt, though, made everything stop and spin all at once. August was unbuttoning my jeans. Her long, elegant fingers, so recently clutching mine, were busy getting my pants loose enough to slide off. The idea of what was happening, as much as the act itself, was what drove me crazy with lust. My sexy roommate was undressing me. I lifted my butt just a little to help her pull my jeans down. I felt like I was on a roller coaster and left my stomach behind on the last sudden dip. With a few tugs, my jeans were off and puddled on the floor of our dorm room. That Trilla dab had me fucking soaring. As high as I was, it felt amazing to rub my freshly-shaven legs on the bed sheets. I pointed my toes and kicked my legs with delight, luxuriating in the sensation of the cool sheets against my warm skin.

August watched me for a moment, disported by the sight of me writhing in my underwear, before she came back in to for the kill. Her lips smashed into mine aggressively and she hard-kissed me into the bed. As she rolled on top of me, her tongue swabbed my tongue, and for the next several minutes, the room was filled with the sounds of our sloppy wet kissing, although I could hardly hear anything over the sound of blood rushing to my head. She kissed me roughly, making sure her lips were sealed to mine even as she tossed me around like a ragdoll,

When August finally sat up, breaking our kiss, it was to lift her shirt over her head. Then, reaching both hands behind her back, she unfastened her bra and flung it aside. The room was dark but for the glow of purple LEDs, but it was enough for me to make out the perfect silhouette of August's tits as she reached down to get my shirt off.

With the size of my breasts, it isn't easy to pull my shirt over them, so I helped her. When we were both topless, we embraced skin to skin, and she kissed me again, more tenderly this time. There was no urgency. Her kiss was slow and deliberate. And that is what made it so fucking hot. The idea that this girl was trying -- really trying -- to turn me on, was itself turning me on. I felt her long legs wrap around mine as we made out on the bed for what seemed like an hour.

August's hands roamed all over my body, like she was paving every inch of my skin. She got as far as the insides of my thighs, which she tended to with particular care, but she never tried to touch my pussy. She didn't need to -- her hands were so confident, so familiar with my body, that she could stimulate me all over. The pleasure I felt was like none I had ever felt before. It felt like my body was sinking down so deep as to be somehow beneath the mattress. I felt like I was falling through the bed and into the unknown, pulled by an immensely powerful pleasure that pulsed in my belly and the base of my spine. Her hands made me feel aroused, but they also made me feel safe and cared for, which only heightened the arousal. I felt submissive and feminine as those hands caressed my abdomen and lingered on my breasts. Her nails traced small circles around my skin, teasing me by avoiding my sensitive nipples over and over, before she sank her fingers into my warm, soft flesh, greedily gathering up as much of my big tits as she could into her firm grip. I am a such a slut for a girl's hands on my tits. Her touch had me melting. My nipples grazed against her palms as she molded my breasts to her hands like an expert potter throwing clay at the wheel. With time and patience, she worked my tits like an artist. The pleasure grew so intense that I thought I would combust from the heat.

As my beautiful roommate turned her head slowly back and forth, screwing her tongue down into my mouth, her hands owning my tits, my reverie was interrupted by a familiar scent. It was pungent. There was no denying what it was. August hadn't touched my pussy, but already it was wet and secreting a dank, tangy nectar into the crotch of my panties. The room reeked of my arousal. Knowing that August could smell my pussy made me even wetter.

August slowly pulled her tongue out of my mouth, like she was removing the thermometer from a turkey that was done cooking. and half-whispered, "Lift up for me babe." I did as I was told without any hesitation. I thrust my hips upward to accommodate her hands as she pulled my panties down my legs and past my ankles.

The caress of the soft cotton on my feet as my underwear came off, contrasted with the cool

rush of the dorm room air against my steaming hot, exposed pussy, felt heavenly.

Now I was fully naked and I could feel August's hungry eyes consuming my body. "Stay right there," she commanded, her voice surprisingly stern this time. I was so blazingly high that I couldn't have moved if I had wanted to. I didn't even lift my head off the bed to see what August was doing as she stood up and walked over to her dresser. I just squirmed delightedly on the sheets, closed my eyes and let the warm purple lights rain down on my blissed-out body. August hadn't even touched my pussy, but already it was steaming hot, puffy, red, and drooling.

"Close your eyes." Another command.

Again, I did as I was told. It felt good to let August lead me. She seemed always in control of herself, and yet she never took herself too seriously, making me feel safe and sexy as we played these little games. The way she inhabited her femininity, made me soft, small, and compliant to her will.

"Keep them closed," she ordered as I felt a smooth, silicone-like object rubbing along my cheek.

"That's a good girl," August said, her voice soothing and sweet in my head. I could feel my cheeks flush as the cool, hard object continued rubbing against my face.

This waify little bitch was pushing me into new depths of arousal as she rapped the thick, heavy object against the corner of my mouth like a door knocker, smearing it on my lips and cheeks and occasionally dragging the smooth, spongy surface across my nose or tapping it against my closed eyelids.

"You like that, don't you, babe?" It was more of a statement than a question and I eagerly nodded my head in agreement.

Apparently that wasn't good enough because August repeated herself. "You like that, don't you baby girl?"

The way she called me "baby girl" the second time almost killed me. I felt a deep yearning awaken in me, like I had always wanted to be August's lover, her little baby girl, and hearing her say the words made it suddenly all so clear. In that moment, I knew exactly what words she wanted to hear back.

"Yes, Daddy, I like it."

I couldn't see the smile that beamed across August's pretty face, but I could feel it. Even with my eyes closed, I could sense the perverse pleasure that my roommate took in hearing me call her "Daddy." She knows I have daddy issues and if she thought that triggering them would turn me on, she was fucking right. I loved having this smoking hot chick make me call her "Daddy." I was so crazy with lust that I would have called her anything. August was already the sexiest bitch on campus, but the fact that she has such a dirty mind to go with that immaculately cute face makes her ten times hotter.

"That's my baby girl," August cooed, her voice oozing with love and approval. She began stroking my hair with one hand while her other hand continued drumming the object methodically on my face. "Open your mouth for Daddy."

I made my lips into an "O," but I received scolding swats from the object in August's hand anyhow, quite as if I had misbehaved. I opened my mouth wider.

August was pleased. I couldn't see her grin, but I could hear it in her voice. "Good baby girl."

I loved earning August's praise. She had a way of making me feel like the most important person in the world. I wanted to be her good little baby girl so bad and she knew it.

"Do you want to open your eyes?" she asked, punctuating the question by tapping the object on each of my closed eyelids.

"Yes, Daddy," I replied.

I opened my eyes to my minxy roommate staring at me intently, her eyes big and wide. l'll never forget what she was holding: a ruby red, 6 inch dildo. Other than the color, it looked exactly like the real thing, complete wirh veins on the shaft, a bulbous head, and even balls at the base. It was magnificent.

"Do you like her?" August purred, wielding the phallic object with reverence like it was a sacred relic. "Her name is Lilith," she said, the words rolling off her tongue with casual grace, as if introducing her dildo by name was a normal thing to do.

I was too stunned, and too stoned, to speak, but before I knew what was happening, I was surprised by the sound of my own voice. The words came flying out of my mouth, as if summoned by some supernatural force. "I lke Lilith."