Mom Needs More Ch. 02

"God, I'm so glad you came back for more," Ms. Olson groaned, then went back to sucking my cock.

Julie Olson was the head of the college's career counseling office, and as soon as I walked in she closed the door, locked it, and closed the shades. Less than two minutes later I was leaning against her desk with my pants and boxers off and my cock sticking out, stiff and proud. She was on her knees, her high-heels kicked off, expertly running her tongue around the head of my cock. She wasn't naked, though she did look sexy as hell in her tight skirt and a silk blue blouse that showed off her ample tits. She'd unbuttoned her shirt, showing how nicely her lacy blue bra pushed her tits up, but that was all. Just cocksucking. Just her shirt unbuttoned. Just me blowing my load all over her chest. That was the agreement, and that's how we'd always done it.

We'd been doing this about twice a week for the past six months. (I always loved her voice on my answering machine, telling me that she was all set for a "counseling session" the next day.) At first it truly was a career-counseling arrangement, but eventually she began getting more open with me about her personal life, including her impending divorce. One week she asked my opinion about a particular shade of lipstick she had on ("I like it. It's...very alluring."); the next week she wanted to hear my thoughts about the tight sleeveless turtleneck she had on ("Are you going on a date? He'll be lucky to be with you."); a month later she was devouring my flattering comments, and I'd become more open in my comments. The size of her tits had become a routine subject of conversation; she'd ask for my advice as she flipped through catalogs, and the question always came up as to how her tits would appear in a particular top. There were three categories: "classy," "acceptable," and "slutty." I once told her that one very low-cut V-neck shirt she was considering was "Very slutty. But please don't let that stop you." She laughed.

A week after her divorce was final, when she invited me onto her office couch to flip through the Victoria's Secret catalog with her ("Let's just say there's a man I want to impress."), I loved feeling her blonde hair on my shoulder as she moved closer, her hand running up my thigh, feeling my cock bulge in my jeans.

From there, she eagerly sucked me off twice a week. But so many damn rules.

This being the last week of classes, and possibly the last time I'd see Julie, I'd actually wound up in her office twice that day. It was now early evening, the counselor's office was closed, which freed her to be a little louder and a little more eager to talk dirty than usual.

Her mouth letting go of my cock with a loud pop, she cupped her tits and looked at me, saliva and precum coating the area on and around her lips. The gleam of it on her fuck-me red lipstick was gorgeous. "Mmmmmm, what's made you such a horny fucking boy tonight, huh?" she asked, pulling slightly on her nipples. She reached up and tugged on my cock, pulling the foreskin over the head. "Do you always need to have your big fucking balls drained twice a day?"

"I just...."—I stopped to groan a moment, enjoying the buzz that Julie's slow tugging sent through my body—"couldn't stop thinking of you sucking me today."

If I was being honest, I couldn't stop thinking of my mom, who I wished was the woman sucking me. It was only two days since I watched her play with her pussy by the pool and then discovered she enjoyed incest fantasies. As much as I tried to play it cool around the house, I couldn't stop paying attention to her: the way her ass moved in her jeans as she headed out the door; the view of her tits down her shirt; the way her hand had a way of fidgeting with her necklace when she talked, drawing my eyes to her cleavage. When she went into her bedroom I wondered if she was indulging a fantasy, pulling out her vibrator and running it over her pussy with one hand while she read about a horny mom and her dirty son. My curiosity got even deeper this morning, when she woke me up in my bedroom. She was wearing a red T-shirt that, tucked into her jeans, pressed tightly against her tits. It was the first thing I noticed when she walked in and she smirked a little when she saw that.

"Off to shop, sugar," she said. "Momma has to look good, right?"

"You always look good, mom," I said, sitting up in bed, shirtless.

"Oh, you're adorable. Give me a kiss." She kissed me softly on the lips, something she rarely did. This kiss was only just barely motherly. Her lips were open, and there was a slow sensuousness to her lips, their softness and wetness, as if she really wanted to stay there. My hand moved to her hip, and the slightest bit of pressure on it suggested that she was welcome to join me in bed—kissing me while I pulled her top off, sucked on her tits through her bra, worked her jeans off, spent the rest of the morning fucking her silly.

But it stopped, of course. The whole thing couldn't have lasted five seconds. Breaking our kiss, she looked at me curiously for a moment then moved her way to the door. I showered and dressed quickly, then headed to campus to Julie's office, trying to keep my hard-on down all the way.

And here I was, nearly about to shoot on Julie's tits again. She was still pulling on my cock, and then her expression changed—a more devious look came onto her face.

"You weren't thinking of getting sucked by me today, were you?" she asked.

I just looked at her. She began to stand up, still holding onto my cock.

"You weren't thinking of sucking," she whispered in my ear. Her tits pressed against my chest and my cock was now pushing against the fabric of her skirt—I moved forward slightly, eagerly seeking her warm pussy. "You wanted fucking."

Kissing me hard, she pulled up her skirt and guided my cock to her crotch. My cock felt wonderful up against the silky fabric of her panties—warm and smooth and inviting. I wanted badly to be inside her. I grabbed her ass hard as I kissed her, cupping each cheek of her firm round ass and grinding hard against her, desperate to be let inside her pussy.

"Ohhhhh," she cried. "You like my ass? Hm?"

Almost instinctively, I slapped it in response, then grabbed her ass harder. Julie squeaked out a giddy cry.

"Oh, again!"

I obliged, but this time a little more aggressively, letting her know that however much she was turning me on, I didn't want to be teased. I desperately wanted to be in her pussy.

"Oh, easy, sweetie," she whispered in my ear, grinding her pussy against my cock, which was leaking what felt like a steady stream of precum. "Don't you worry. Mommy's gonna make you feel really good...."

That word was like a drug rush in my brain—I'd leaped to another level. "Gonna make me feel good, mommy?" I said, kissing her neck.

"Uh-huh," she replied, turning us around so that she was sitting up on her desk. She looked gloriously disheveled: her blonde hair was ravaged, her lipstick smeared, her bloused unbuttoned completely, her large tits still trapped in her bra but enticingly pushed up and together. And her skirt was now pulled all the way up to her trim waist, revealing a pair of see-through silky black panties, which her fingers now pulled aside, inviting my cock in. Her eyes locked in on me, full of lust.

I didn't need any more encouragement. I stepped forward and rubbed the head of my cock against her swollen pussy, searching for her clit and loving the warm wet feeling that radiated off of her.

"Oh, God, that's right," she whispered. "Make mommy feel good. Aren't you going to be a good boy and fuck your horny mommy?"

I slid in slowly, then filled her. With a quick, stiff cry at having her pussy stuffed with my cock, she wrapped her legs around my hips. I began pumping in and out of her as my hands rose up her back to unhook her bra. She let go of my shoulders to shrug off her blouse and pull away her bra, freeing her tits. They bounced beautifully while I fucked her.

"Oh, that's a good boy....such a good boy," she panted. Now that she'd voiced her own mommy fantasy and I eagerly responded, she wasn't letting go of it. "Let mommy fuck that nice thick cock."

We kept a rhythm going for a while on the desk, but eventually we silently agreed to move to the leather couch, which allowed to ride me more comfortably, and made it easier for me to suck on her large, swollen nipples. "Bite them, honey....Oh, bite them! Mommy's been wanting her big boy for so long....Ohhhhh!"

Julie began bucking harder and harder on my cock, chanting, almost like a mantra, "Cum for mommy, cum for mommy." Eventually, the warmth of her pussy, the sight of her boucing tits, and the intensity of her mommy fantasy got to be too much. As she groaned and grinded and came furiously on my cock, I shot inside her. Ropes and ropes of cum blew out of me with the sort of intensity I rarely felt fucking. Cum oozed out of her pussy and down her thighs, onto the cushion of the couch.

When we'd stopped panting after our orgasms, we just looked at each other and smiled, spent. We kissed softly for a bit, like lovers.

After we'd dressed and cleaned up, she asked me when I was starting the job she'd helped get for me. "Thank you for helping me with all that," I said. It felt insanely formal, considering I'd been fucking her on her desk just minutes before. But it was hard to figure out the right thing to say.

And that was pretty much that. We said goodbyes and thank yous, as if we didn't want to acknowledged what had passed between us in the past hour, or even in the past six months. But then she said, "You know, I'll be traveling this summer, but I'll be back in late August." Pulling out a notepad, she scribbled something down at her desk. She ripped the note from its pad, folded it, and walked up to me.

Sticking the note in my shirt pocket, she smiled, gave me another kiss, and said, "I'm not calling this goodbye." But I left.

Outside, walking to mom's second car, I pulled the note out of my pocket and unfolded it. Julie had written down her phone number. Above it was the word "Mom," in quotes.